Walking in the corridor, a strange feeling enveloped Bologue, a sensation he had experienced several tis before. In his mory, every ti this feeling arose, it was accompanied by the release of Secret Energy.
Ether, the abundant Ether was enveloping him, like an unknown blessing, a Protection upon himself.
"Geoffrey, can you see those things?"
Bologue patted Geoffrey in front of him, his gaze carrying a hint of caution, looking towards the corner of the corridor.
After temporary permission was granted to him, Bologue discovered that the "Cultivation Room" he was familiar with had undergone so changes.
The once clean stone bricks were now covered in dust with so cracks, and in the corners, there were illusions of shadows—a series of figures existing between reality and illusion, constantly appearing and disappearing.
"Don’t worry, this is an abnormal phenonon observed with level three permissions... it’s a normal occurrence." Geoffrey explained in a roundabout way.
Bologue roughly understood his aning, realizing that the "Cultivation Room" distorts perception of those within, and with different permissions, one could observe varying aspects of the "Cultivation Room".
Like the door Bologue just saw, he distinctly rembered that he had never seen that door before, and now it suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
As an employee of the Field Operations Departnt, Bologue had level two permissions, and with the temporary granting of level three permissions, a world of bizarre sights unfolded before him.
"Are these the things you usually see?" Bologue asked.
"No, I usually operate with level two permissions, and only utilize level three permissions when necessary. After all, as you can feel, the atmosphere of the work environnt is quite important." Geoffrey replied cheerfully.
The surrounding walls seed alive, slowly writhing, the hard texture gone, resembling a grayish-white stomach lining.
Bologue nodded in agreent, gaining a new understanding of the mysteries of the "Cultivation Room".
Finally, Geoffrey led Bologue to an elevator; the elevator doors slowly opened, revealing a sowhat cramped interior.
"Let’s go."
Geoffrey nudged Bologue, who composed himself and stepped into this elevator he had never seen before.
Then they began to descend.
This elevator seed to be a direct elevator, with no control buttons and no floor display, just a peculiar symbol floating above.
It was three faces contorted in pain, closely pressed together, enduring eternal tornt.
Their eyes seared blind by molten iron, their mouths sewn shut with needles, their eardrums pierced by a Dagger.
"We are heading to the ’Safety Containnt Departnt’." Geoffrey explained at the appropriate ti.
Bologue nodded, not asking further questions; unlike the other departnts he knew, the mont he stepped into the elevator, he felt a murderous atmosphere, as if so will was moving about, maliciously watching each person.
"Since this departnt is level three, I can’t explain much to you, you just need to know that everything terrible is locked up in here." Geoffrey’s words resonated with Bologue, who looked up at those tornt-ridden faces, realizing he too might have been considered "terrible" by the Order Bureau at one ti.
Black Prison?
Bologue was uncertain.
The elevator shook slightly and descended for an unknown duration before finally reaching the bottom, whereupon the doors opened, revealing a dimly lit world beyond.
Bologue stepped out, finding himself in an even more expansive space.
Like a vast underground factory, the dim lighting barely allowed Bologue to discern the surrounding outlines, where gray-clad individuals walked back and forth, their faces obscured by shadows.
The surroundings were eerily silent, without any sound except for faint breathing that affird these gray-clad figures were not phantoms.
"Let’s go."
Geoffrey’s voice was clear as he led the way.
Along the way, the gray-clad figures seed to ignore the two of them, not casting a single look, each performing their duties like precise machines, continuously operating.
No words were needed for communication; whenever a gate blocked their path, it would open on its own after a short wait, and compared to the Central Courtyard of the Order Bureau, this place was filled with stagnant gloom.
After wandering through the deep labyrinth for an indeterminate ti, Bologue finally reached his destination.
A massive gate blocked the passage, and on its cold tallic surface, the na "Safety Containnt Departnt" was engraved.
The engraving was so vivid, it was as if three pitiable souls were truly integrated into the steel, roaring as if they would burst out of the gate.
After a brief wait, as if soone finally noticed them, a gray-clad figure approached.
"Bologue Lazarus, the next recipient of the implant, before the ritual begins, I would like to take him to see that thing."
Geoffrey explained.
The gray-clad man listened and waved his hand, and the sound of wailing and sobbing ca from the gate.
In a daze, those three hideous faces seed to co alive. They wailed with all their might, yet could not change their fate. Then the gate slowly began to rise, while the gray-clad man, at so unknown mont, vanished into the gloom.
Bologue held his breath slightly, not because of what lay beyond the gate, but because of the eerie "Safety Containnt Departnt." Even with his Undying Body, a surge of unease overwheld him as soon as he stepped inside.
Then he asked softly.
"Implanted? What do you an?"
"You’ll know soon enough." Geoffrey grinned wickedly, leading Bologue past the gate.
Beyond the gate was an enormous cubic space, also filled with many gray-clad figures wandering around, their activities unclear. In the center of the cubic space stood a large cylindrical glass container.
The cylindrical glass container was filled with a transparent liquid. From the top and bottom, a glow emanated through the liquid, casting a ghostly blue hue, and within this glow, Bologue saw the thing.
It was a corpse, a male corpse, like a specin soaked in the container, but unlike the specins Bologue was familiar with.
That corpse... no...
Bologue was unsure if he should even call it a corpse. It soaked in the solution, seemingly preserved in crystal, its skin possessing a lifelike flush. With its eyes closed, it appeared rely asleep.
This was not the end; the man was naked, and as Bologue approached, the corpse-like man seed to sense sothing, his body shimring with waves of Canyin light, and intricate patterns erged on his skin.
Alchemy Matrix.
This was not Bologue’s first ti seeing an Alchemy Matrix. Be it the glow that accompanied the use of the Shock Hamr or during battles with other Condensers, he had seen the light erupting with the patterns.
But this was different.
If the Alchemy Matrices Bologue had seen before were re simple drawings, then the one erupting before him was like a grand mural painted by a master.
Cheeks, neck, chest, back, arms, legs...
Intricate patterns undulated along the surface of the body, like the veins of a leaf, with rolling Canyin liquid flowing through them. The light was so pure that it seed solidified, transford into tangible golden liquid, gushing and surging through the patterns.
"Look closely, it’s usually locked deep within the ’Safety Containnt Departnt.’ Even with authorization, it’s hard to see. It was moved here temporarily for you."
Geoffrey gazed at the man in the glass container. The brilliant light seized their attention, while the gray-clad figures remained indifferent, focused only on their tasks.
The man seed to have entered so peculiar state, appearing dead, with no breath or heartbeat, yet seemingly alive, his body brimming with vitality and strength.
Bologue had an illusion that the man would awaken any mont, and when he did, everyone present would perish.
"Is it dead, or..."
Bologue inquired.
"Not sure, but I feel like it’s dead. Yet it’s so powerful, even in death, it seems alive."
Regarding the man in the container, Geoffrey felt nothing but awe.
"You said this is for ... implanted..."
Bologue’s gaze was fully occupied by the Canyin glow, recalling the information from Geoffrey’s words.
The fragnted information pieced together, unveiling an incredulous answer before him.
Bologue felt imnse trepidation, yet was filled with anticipation, like a gambler eager to try his luck, clutching onto the last chip, hoping to win a kingdom from the table.
Struggling to tear his gaze from the man, his breath quickened, and his blue eyes were bloodshot.
"Who is he?"
Faced with Bologue’s question, Geoffrey swallowed, his expression solemn.
"He is the most valuable prize we obtained seven years ago from the hands of the King’s Secret Sword during the secret war."
Golden liquid surged and coiled.
"His na is Xilin Kagader.
The previous Sword Holder of the King’s Secret Sword, a Seeker of Glory illuminated by radiance and holiness."
"Of course, for those who survived the secret war, he also has another more familiar na."
Geoffrey gazed at the man’s corpse before him, now the deceased Demon, the Death God of seven years ago.
"Overlord."
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