It wasn't long before he was on the spacious bridge of the Airship, facing Michel.
One of the Colonel's Legion doppelgangers unceremoniously pushed him out of the elevator. It signaled to another doppelganger, then turned and left.
The one that remained drew a pistol and, from several ters away, stared unwaveringly at Huai Shi, ready to kill him on the spot if he made the slightest move.
Naturally, soone else ca over to unlock his shackles.
Although he still couldn't use his Stigma and Soul Power, at least this was more comfortable.
Huai Shi rubbed his wrists, exhaled, and couldn't help but complain, "Could you be a bit gentler? After all, we're all alumni... Oh, that's right, I do have an Ivy League diploma. Can't I be considered one of you and get slightly better treatnt?"
As he spoke, it never crossed his mind that people might hate a Heretic even more than a devil, nor did he consider that the things he had done were enough for his 'alma mater' to execute him hundreds of tis.
"That diploma... I rember signing it myself."
Behind the desk, Michel said without lifting his head from the docunts he was signing, "I approved Principal Luo Su's request imdiately after reviewing your resu."
"Hmm?" Huai Shi raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think it's a pity?"
Shalessly, Huai Shi patted his chest and lanted, "To be honest, missing out on talent like is truly heartbreaking."
Michel was amused. It was like hearing a seven or eight-year-old child tell an unfunny joke.
He capped his pen and finally raised his head to scrutinize Huai Shi, who was not far away. His expression grew colder. "Aren't you the least bit aware of your true nature?"
"Honestly, I think my self-assessnt is quite accurate." Huai Shi shrugged. "Look how quickly I've adapted to the role of a prisoner. Discretion is the better part of valor; I'm already scared without you even starting any torture."
"You're a problem," Michel stated bluntly, without a trace of courtesy. "Mr. Huai Shi, whether you admit it or not, the trouble you bring will always be far greater than any good you might do... no matter where you are. The reason you're still here is that Mikhail didn't agree to exchange the core of another control center for you."
Did I miss so dirty deal? Huai Shi was startled, then shrugged:
"A handso man's life is always tragic. I understand."
"Is that so?"
Michel sneered. "I can even assert that Mikhail never even considered any plan to rescue you. Compared to the price we'd pay for the control center, the damage you could cause by staying is far more severe. What do you think?"
"I can't pretend I didn't hear that, Mister... whatever-your-na-is. You are despicably slandering my character," Huai Shi retorted indignantly. "Be careful, I might sue you for personal attack."
Michel remained indifferent: "That's not a personal attack. Also, there's no provision for personal attacks in border jurisprudence."
"Hmm?"
Huai Shi was taken aback, his first instinct to argue.
Then he started to think. This old man seed, apparently, indeed... right. Going over his understanding of the legal systems of the various Borders, there indeed was no such charge.
"Don't bother thinking. I'm a principal mber of the Border Law Committee and the chief legal consultant for Exxon Energy. If I say it doesn't exist, it absolutely doesn't." Michel cast a glance at him before nonchalantly tossing an ID onto the table. "Additionally, I'm the risk manager for the Jurisdiction Bureau's Arican Strategy Room. You'd better not try to wave the Astronomical Society's flag in front of , 'Fourth-class Martial Officer' Mr. Huai Shi."
Huai Shi imdiately gasped. HISS! So terrifying! This guy... no, this old man is too dangerous to be left unchecked!
He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, checking over and over, but he couldn't find any flaws or questionable points on that ID. Without a doubt, it was genuine.
So that ans... the person before really is a big shot? No, why does everyone like holding so many concurrent positions? How are newcors even supposed to make a mark?
Ultimately, the traditional routine of 'announcing his achievents' that had been brewing on his lips had to be regrettably swallowed.
His attempt at showing off had failed miserably.
No choice. Even if the person opposite wasn't a big shot, my identity as an Inspector was useless, and besides, I was still on leave without pay. With that identity, I could act important in the Current Circumstances and be sowhat useful on the Border, but in Hell... it counted for nothing. So hardened rogues who haunt Hell don't even give a damn about the Four Great Legions. Just look at the Eye of Nightmare for proof.
As he was lost in thought, the corner of his eye twitched, compelling him to look towards the corner of the room.
By the porthole stood a shadow with its back to him. His hair was white, betraying his advanced age.
The man was equipped with a Teutonic Heavy Sword, clad in thick Armor, and held an imposing Lion Helt in his hands. He ignored Huai Shi completely, silently gazing out the window.
But the striking thing was... his face couldn't be seen, not even in the reflection on the glass.
Like a Phantom that didn't exist in this place.
But the mont Huai Shi saw him, his innate Death Perception began to warn him frantically.
If I try anything foolish, I might actually die.
Such a vivid premonition surfaced in his mind.
However, his gaze was soon drawn away by another object.
In the control area at the very end of the bridge, under the illumination of a beam of light, countless intricate machines floated in the air, slowly rotating.
One could vaguely make out their original shapes.
When the countless parts assembled, they ford the Wind Lamp Huai Shi had seen before. But now, with the Wind Lamp dismantled, what unfolded from within was an Alchemy Matrix so vast and intricate that the entire bridge could barely contain it.
He rubbed his eyes, unable to contain his curiosity.
"What on earth is that?"
"In the old tongue of the Town of Dusk, it would be called the 'Proof of the Forger'," Michel said. "Similar to the Stigmas of Sublimators, it is the source of a Forger's power and their tools. It is also the primary culprit for Hell's decline to its current state."
He rose to his feet and adjusted the beam of light, magnifying it. Suddenly, nurous tiny, unusual characters erged from the body of the lamp. In the end, they overlapped to form a solemn and chilling insignia.
It seed to represent so ultimate authority and Truth, inspiring a sense of awe.
"Judging by the destiny marks on it, that control core should be nad 'Variator,' correct?"
He turned back, looking at Huai Shi, and waved his hand. As chanisms whirred, a table slowly rose in front of Huai Shi, followed by two chairs.
"Please have a seat, Mr. Huai Shi."
He took a seat across from Huai Shi first: "The ti for idle chat is over. Our work begins now."
It's here, it's here! The brutal interrogation and secret-forcing scene is about to start! My long-awaited tough-guy TI! Huai Shi's eyes lit up. It was ti to demonstrate his indomitable spirit and unwavering integrity.
And just as Huai Shi straightened his back, adopting a look of resolute defiance, ready to staunchly protect the secrets of the Ivory Tower, Michel calmly put on a pair of glasses, took out a pen, and opened the docunt beside him.
"So, when did you enter Sub-control Center No. 4... also known as that underground world?" he looked up and asked. "Our calculations indicate it was around nineteen hundred hours. Considering you might have spent a long ti en route, is that accurate, or are there any discrepancies?"
"Huh?"
Huai Shi started to feel sothing was off.
Why is he asking this?
"Also, so details about your fight with the Variator—despite the supplent from the recording and Liz's description, there are still many unknowns. Let's discuss that in detail first."
He completely disregarded the secrets of the Iron Crystal Throne and the Ivory Tower.
Michel began asking about the details of the fight. He ticulously noted everything: the Variator's initial state, the timing of its Second Stage, and Huai Shi's speculations and conjectures, all recorded flawlessly.
From start to finish, the words 'Great Grandmaster' never once crossed his lips.
He didn't even ntion the Iron Crystal Throne.
For a full two to three hours, he continuously questioned Huai Shi about the details encountered during the exploration, filling over a dozen pages with notes.
If Huai Shi was unwilling to speak on a topic, Michel never asked a second ti.
He purely inquired about what had transpired within the control center.
During this process, although reluctant to say too much, Huai Shi saw no reason to conceal inconsequential details.
He had wondered if Michel was trying to lull him into a false sense of security with these questions, only to spring a sudden interrogation. But from beginning to end, Michel acted like an old Professor ticulously docunting an archaeological find, completely indifferent to anything beyond the control center itself.
Perhaps these details constituted valuable intelligence, but in Huai Shi's view, they weren't worth suffering for.
Besides, even if Huai Shi remained silent, Liz or the other rcenaries from the Eye of Nightmare had witnessed it all.
There was no point in keeping it secret.
It wasn't until they were nearly finished that Michel suddenly posed a more sensitive question: "We noticed your exploration pace was unusually fast. Was that due to keen intuition? Or did you receive so form of visionary guidance? If it was a hallucination, would you be willing to describe what you saw?"
Visions and auditory hallucinations were common occurrences during explorations in Hell.
As the Great Grandmaster had once said, such things weren't rare. It was just that the entity guiding Huai Shi was rather unsettling.
After concealing the existence of the Crowned Skeleton, Huai Shi thought it over and decided to ntion Condra.
Having a forr colleague capable of guiding him in Hell could sowhat enhance his own value.
It felt sowhat like a betrayal, but compared to the truly vital secrets—the Iron Crystal Throne's defenses, its internal situation, personnel deploynt, experintal projects, and research findings—Condra was insignificant.
After listening, Michel paused for a mont, his pen stopping.
He lifted his eyes to look at Huai Shi.
"Condra...?" he asked. "Around thirty years old, a man from the Russian Federation? Black hair?"
"..."
Huai Shi nodded.
Michel was silent for a long ti, then removed his glasses and sighed softly.
"Do you know him?" Huai Shi asked.
"A brief acquaintance." Michel recalled carefully, "He was He's student. I t him once, three years ago, at a seminar. He ntioned to back then that his student had surpassed the master, and his future achievents would undoubtedly eclipse his own... Such a pity."
There was no hint of schadenfreude.
Huai Shi could sense it was genuine sympathy and sorrow.
"...To be honest, this place isn't quite what I imagined," he shook his head and sighed. "I thought you'd all be gloating."
Michel's brow furrowed.
He looked up at him, as though offended.
"Mr. Huai Shi, we are Scholars," he said coldly. "Not a Cannibal Tribe."
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