In the general public's impression, those called professors are usually cultured and slender scholars, or those with white-streaked hair, wearing glasses, and exuding an air of bookishness.
However, these traits would hardly be discernible on a mountain of a man standing over two meters tall.
This mountain of a man now flashed a warm smile at Ai Qing, his face shining brightly with grease, blinding like the sun. His hands kept moving, skillfully manipulating instruments that seemed excessively delicate for his thick fingers.
"Coffee or tea?"
"Coffee," said Ai Qing, "without sugar."
Soon, a steaming cup of coffee was served in a fine cup, placed on the saucer before Ai Qing.
The Professor swiveled in his enormous, comically large chair, opened the refrigerator beside him, and began taking out all kinds of exquisite cakes, puddings, chocolates, macarons, fruits from Yingzhou, a mille-feuille pastry from Rome...
"It's just about time for dinner. Let's eat together."
He chuckled as he tied a napkin around his neck and picked up a knife and fork, "I'm on a diet recently, so I'm not eating meat in the evenings."
As Ai Qing looked at the table laden with calories, a rare look of temptation flickered across her face, but she soon shook her head in regret, "You're going to die of high cholesterol if you keep this up."
"If it's a cerebral thrombosis, I've had that several times already."
The Professor chuckled, lifting a finger to tap the surgical scar on his forehead. "Thanks to the Astronomical Society, the medical technology of the Existence Institute always allows me to continue this little hobby of mine."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere. Regardless, I'm just a newcomer who's only recently been made permanent." Ai Qing lifted her coffee, took a sip, and nodded in satisfaction.
Though she was reluctant to admit it, the Professor's coffee was indeed the best in all of Xinhai. Despite having plenty of rare coffee grounds at home, her own brewing skills couldn't compare to this man's.
"Promoted at this critical juncture? You must be having a hard time—"
A slight frown creased the Professor's brow. "Will the war in the Dragon Triangle affect Xinhai?"
"There'll be some impact, I suppose."
Ai Qing tapped on the table and sighed.
This was a perfect example of the saying, "When the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer."
As the colossus at the forefront of the world, the power of the Astronomical Society was indisputably grand. It was, in essence, the shadowy counterpart of the United Nations.
Ninety years ago, to deal with threats from beyond the Border and at the instigation of the Guide Association, the International Astronomical Association was established. It was jointly formed by the five permanent members of the United Nations Security Council: Dongxia, Rome, the Russian Federation, the America Community, and the First Dynasty of Egypt.
And now, the Astronomical Society's ruling body, the Jurisdiction Bureau—which had replaced Utopia—was composed of prominent politicians and major conglomerates.
That's why the First World War came to be known as the war that ended all wars.
True, since then, there had been no more global wars. But that didn't mean war itself had vanished; it had merely shifted to places beyond ordinary sight. How many proxy wars had been fought over the years as nations vied for influence within the Jurisdiction Bureau?
Otherwise, how else would Baghdad have been reduced to ruins?
Dozens of Borders had been sunk by warring Natural Enemies, plummeting into the depths of Hell, and the repercussions had yet to subside.
Although nations and corporations maintained the Astronomical Society due to the pressure from beyond the Border, internal strife was ever-present.
Just like this time with the Border war in the Dragon Triangle.
Over the years, it had become an unspoken agreement that the nation and organizations in which a Border Domain was located held the primary development rights for that Border. However, Borders were so named not only because they lay at the edge of the Current Circumstances, but also because, like actual frontiers, they were areas of diluted sovereignty.
Especially under unusual circumstances, they could move.
In recent years, the internal battle within Yingzhou for the Xiematai Empire's relic—the Border known as the 'Dragon Triangle'—had been incessant. The conflict was between the ducal houses of the Tianjin System and the warrior families of the Kunitsujin System. This wasn't their first bloody conflict, and Border sovereignty changed hands more frequently than the country changed prime ministers. The fighting raged back and forth until they actually managed to break the Boundary Wedge that anchored it.
They actually broke the Boundary Wedge!
Seriously, were they *trying* to break it?
Anyway, according to the Astronomical Society's calculations, the Dragon Triangle had begun to drift. It first headed toward the Australian archipelago for a stretch, then suddenly turned northwest.
That's right, heading towards Dongxia.
Dongxia could hardly contain its excitement. The Border Development Group, Tai Qing Heavy Industries, was already rubbing its hands in anticipation, waiting for this prize to fall right into its lap.
Then Yingzhou started to protest. But by then, the Dragon Triangle had already drifted into the Open Ocean. Yingzhou was displeased? Tough. The people's joy was the only true joy.
Moreover, with such a large object drifting over, if you kept it hidden and didn't allow others to intervene, what if there were dangerous items inside?
Dongxia clamored, "Let us take a look!"
Whether it was developing normally or not was uncertain, but the situation was definitely bound to grow more tense.
And what troubled Ai Qing now was that if Dongxia did intend to take action regarding the Dragon Triangle, Xinhai City would soon become one of the most convenient ports for departure.
That meant more and more Sublimators seeking to make money, hunt for treasure, grab a quick fortune, and stir up trouble would flock here.
What worried Ai Qing was not just the inevitable rise in Sublimator crime, but also the mutual attraction between Borders.
What if the Xiematai Border within the Dragon Triangle drifted into Dongxia's coast and collided with another Border?
That would be like a comet hitting Earth!
Of course, she wasn't the only one concerned, but when the time came, her name would definitely be on the list of those who took the blame. Becoming a formal Inspector of the Astronomical Society at this moment was hardly good timing.
On the contrary, if she wanted to play it safe, she'd need to arrange a transfer within six months.
The Border's drift wasn't fast, but at its current momentum, it was feared that major turmoil would erupt around Xinhai within a year at most.
"Found a way out yet?" the Professor asked casually. "With your connections, surely arranging something like that isn't beyond you?"
Ai Qing glanced at him and said nothing.
"Just curious, purely curious."
The Professor chuckled good-naturedly. After a whirlwind assault on the desserts, he had consumed more than half of the spread. The coffee, so sugary it was almost a paste, also went down.
He was only about half-full from his "dinner."
He wiped his mouth and pulled out a thick file from under the table, placing it in front of Ai Qing.
"This is the investigation you requested—all current records and information on the Savior Association," the Professor said. "As per your instructions, I've only performed a basic consolidation, removing some useless, redundant material. However, I haven't included any subjective analysis. I trust this much documentation won't be too daunting for you."
Ai Qing was quite confident in her ability to process documents. If speculation was needed, she didn't require someone else to make wild guesses and inject their subjective opinions for her.
The primary reason she had been selected as an Inspector from among tens of thousands of candidates wasn't just her near-perfect exam scores, but also her 'intuition'—a talent considered rare even within the Astronomical Society.
Yes, that's right. Intuition.
If she were to blindly guess heads or tails, her odds would be roughly fifty-fifty. In a dice game requiring predicting the outcome, she would likely fare far worse than professional mathematicians.
But it was only when faced with complex and chaotic situations that her intuition truly revealed its extraordinary value.
If one were to speak in terms of probability, her chances of being correct were around sixty-five percent.
This accuracy, more than fifteen percent above that of ordinary people, made her stand out from the complex tests, and she was rated as a top-tier A+ talent.
Such a talent was a perfect match for a predictive-type Stigma. Even without Soul Sublimation, it was enough to inspire great expectations.
The Astronomical Society wasn't concerned about the thirty-five percent failure rate; in fact, they had more than enough resources to cover any costs. If Ai Qing hadn't refused the offer from the Countermeasures Department and opted for a regional post instead, the Astronomical Society would likely have already begun her targeted development, wouldn't they?
That was why she was derided by her fellow trainees as a classic example of someone who didn't know how to appreciate an opportunity.
As an information broker, the Professor was thoroughly familiar with his collaborator's background—at least, everything documented on paper. But he was far more curious about the aspects that had never been committed to writing.
Ai Qing remained deeply secretive about these matters, never revealing the slightest hint to anyone.
In the silence, she focused on flipping through the thick pages. The Professor didn't speak again to disturb her, merely swiveling his chair to browse the obscure professional books on his own table.
If Ai Qing were to summarize her initial impressions from reading, it was that the Savior Association's affairs were far murkier than she had anticipated.
Although they seemed like a group of swindlers, the questionable points were too numerous to count. Whether it was the strange provenance of the Border Relic or those Sublimators who had secretly interacted with them…
Wang Hai, according to his accomplices' confessions, was merely a temporary leader. Before him, when the Savior Association went by other names, there were even traces of previous leaders.
They were indeed maintaining a low profile and developing quietly in places like Old Pond Town. However, their public facade, which included numerous companies like Love Charity, had extensive dealings with other regions.
Their reach extended beyond Xinhai, with traces leading to other places, connecting with all walks of life. If the Red Gloves, an outside force, hadn't made a decisive move and inadvertently utilized this fraudulent church, who knows how long it would have taken to notice these insidious elements festering among the lower classes in rural areas and remote cities.
Now, it looked more like a front and an alias for some massive organization.
But whose hand was pulling the strings?
There were too many suspicious possibilities.
The Black Sky Cult from India? The Paradise of Bliss from the Border? The Science God Spirit Association from the United State of America? Or one of the countless shadowy factions from Yingzhou?
It was a pity that Wang Hai and the Nightjar, the only two who knew the details, were already dead. Otherwise, Ai Qing wouldn't be forced to start her investigation from scratch, like searching for a needle in a haystack.
She wasn't worried about what the Red Gloves, killed by Huai Shi, and Green Day, the Border's largest terrorist organization, were plotting.
The power of the Border was, after all, confined to the Border. To make any significant moves in the Current Circumstances, they couldn't bypass the Astronomical Society, which held sway over the entire human world.
What truly worried her was what those lunatics from the Savior Association—the ones who preyed on the elderly for their Source Substance—were really trying to achieve. Had they already succeeded? Were they still in the process? What exactly was their plan?
And who else was involved with them in this?
She found it hard to believe that a worthless conman like Wang Hai, who only knew how to swindle money, could have used Love Charity to infiltrate Xinhai's upper-middle class on his own.
A glance at the files showed he was only ever capable of scamming pension funds.
So, who was pulling the strings from behind the scenes?
Before long, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.
After she finished the call, she completely lost the mood to continue thinking.
"Let's conclude the preliminary report here," she said, gathering the files from the table. "I'll transfer the remaining payment to you. However, the investigation into the Savior Association must continue. Please notify me of any new developments."
"Don't worry, I will."
The Professor sipped his tea, observing her expression. "Has there been another incident involving Erosion Material or Sublimator crimes?"
"No, worse than that."
Ai Qing, her expression unreadable, tapped the armrest of her wheelchair. Recalling the description of Huai Shi from the phone call, she felt an overwhelming urge to sigh.
"—Far, far worse than that."