Under the warm introduction of Steiner, the group was introduced to a number of officials from the International Permit Agency, several high-ranking Admirals, and most importantly—the main guest of the evening.
The Supreme Commander of the reinforcements—Admiral Mike—stood confidently with his hands on his hips.
He wore a pair of thick toad-like sunglasses, a massive corn cob pipe dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a crisp military uniform that barely contained his strong presence.
At 65, he was still sharp, decisive, and full of energy—a man in the prime of his commanding years.
Standing beside him were all heavyweights of the banquet, including none other than Queen Oito.
Once Steiner finished introducing Germain and the others one by one, Admiral Mike finally took the pipe out of his mouth.
With a hearty laugh, he struck up a conversation with Chairman Netero, and offered a few encouraging words to Germain and his companions.
Then, turning slightly, he gestured to Queen Oito beside him and said with a smile, "We're trying to comfort the Queen here. She's been understandably worried. I told her—as long as our fleet is here, her rightful status is fully protected."
"I don't doubt that one bit," Queen Oito replied, lips curling into a soft smile.
She had taken the rare effort to dress up tonight, doing her best to uphold the dignity of a Queen of the Kakin Empire.
Among the Kakin royalty that had reached the new continent—king, queen, and princes—only she had survived.
That was a fact no one could deny.
Yet far from being marginalized, this fact had instead earned her more respect.
Admiral Mike treated her with the utmost courtesy, not just because of her strength and grace, but also because of her symbolic importance.
Though the Kakin Empire was in chaos back home, it hadn't completely fallen apart.
Winning over someone like Queen Oito could be key—she might very well become a crucial piece in the game of controlling the empire.
The banquet slowly began, accompanied by soft, flowing music.
Germain glanced around the grand hall—and at that moment, his eyes fell on Melody.
She was seated with the orchestra, playing a long silver flute, completely absorbed in the music.
She noticed Germain too.
Their eyes met for a brief second.
She gave him a gentle nod of acknowledgment.
It seemed her flute music was elegant and beautiful, earning unanimous praise from many nobles and wealthy elites.
Because of this, she was invited to perform at the evening banquet.
Listening to the melody of her flute made them feel as though they were still above the masses.
They believed the lower and middle classes couldn't possibly understand the true meaning behind such a beautiful sound.
Some even complained about Melody playing her flute on the nightly broadcasts for the entire Coastal Fortress to hear, considering it a waste—like playing music for cows.
Melody's attitude toward these self-proclaimed nobles was simple: no initiative, no rejection, no responsibility.
She just kept doing what she always did—soothing people's hearts.
It could be said that for the past few months, the reason the Coastal Fortress hadn't fallen into a second wave of chaos was largely due to Melody's flute.
Admiral Mike had no intention of discussing serious matters at the event.
Germain and the others didn't want to stay by his side exchanging flattery and pleasantries, so they politely excused themselves and left that circle.
They formed a smaller group on their own within the banquet.
Though they were dressed formally, they couldn't quite blend in with the current atmosphere.
Unlike the nobles who were still socializing and exchanging empty words, they ignored the strange looks and instead grabbed small plates, gathering around the long table piled with exquisite dishes to sample the food.
Chairman Netero was the first to take the lead.
"We can't let it go to waste. They emptied the storage and even brought their own supplies just to throw this banquet."
Hearing this, Morel and Shizuku no longer hesitated.
They began piling their favorite foods onto their plates.
Bisky was a bit more reserved but still enjoyed the meal with great appetite.
Germain picked up a slice of seafood that had been laid out atop a bed of ice.
He dipped it into the sauce beside it, then placed it onto his plate.
After a moment of thought, he walked over to stand beside Chairman Netero and asked,
"Chairman, what do you plan to do next?"
"What do you mean, 'What should we do'?"
Chairman Netero asked knowingly, clearly playing coy.
Only after chewing and swallowing a piece of lobster meat did he speak slowly,
"Of course, we do nothing at all."
Germain picked up a slice of meat with his chopsticks — the table was full of utensils from different countries and cultures, from forks and knives to traditional chopsticks.
He put the meat in his mouth.
The sharp sting of wasabi rushed up his nose almost immediately.
Still, he held it in.
Only after a long pause, when the burning sensation finally faded, did he blink and understand what the Chairman meant.
Netero, of course, wasn't planning to simply sit back passively.
The fact that he had released two "Hopes" made it obvious — he had no intention of completely surrendering his authority.
But under the current circumstances, doing nothing was the best course of action.
The more one does, the more one risks doing wrong.
All he needed to do was fulfill his duty as Chairman of the Hunter Association — support the V6, and protect the rights of professional Hunters.
If Admiral Mike wanted a lavish banquet, then let it be held.
If he wanted grand ambitions, then support them.
If he wanted more, then offer proposals.
Chairman Netero never had any desire to become the "King" of the new continent.
He lacked that kind of ambition, and more importantly, he had known from the very beginning that such a thing was impossible.
All he sought now was greater influence — a stronger voice in the decision-making process.
And so, they ate and drank, unconcerned with the mood of the surrounding social circles.
*******
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