Leaving the council hall, Lock silently followed the Interior Minister out of the castle.
He didn't ask who he was meeting, nor did he show any curiosity. His calm, watchful demeanor caught the minister off guard. But remembering the man waiting at their destination, the minister suppressed his surprise.
As expected of someone the king values, the minister thought.
Neither spoke during the walk. The silence stretched until they reached a nondescript building, tucked away from prying eyes.
"This is it. Go in," the minister said.
Lock gave a slight nod, casually scanning both sides of the street before stepping forward. As soon as he entered, the minister turned on his heel and left hurriedly, almost running.
He may have caught the king's attention, but he'll face plenty of trials before being trusted. Whether he can climb higher depends on this step, the minister thought, quickening his pace.
Inside, Lock was greeted by a flight of stairs descending into the earth.
He clicked his tongue softly. "Underground again? How original. Do they ever worry about cave-ins?"
A bold thought crossed his mind, but this wasn't the time. That would have to wait.
He started down. Three minutes later, a bright light shone ahead, and the corridor opened into a wide underground chamber.
The sudden brilliance made Lock squint.
Then—a sharp whistle through the air.
He moved instinctively. The arrow struck the steps where he'd stood, quivering from the force.
"It won't be that simple."
Lock had been prepared. He slipped aside smoothly as another volley followed—arrows slicing through the air from ahead. He zigzagged down the corridor, dodging with fluid speed. Entering the chamber, he used the crystal light pillars for cover and finally drew a steady breath.
Across the chamber, dozens of Central Military Police soldiers had formed ranks, armed with bows and blades.
Lock arched a brow. "A welcoming party?"
The soldiers lowered their bows and rushed him.
"This wasn't in the plan," he muttered. He and Kenny Ackerman had discussed this beforehand—no ambush had been mentioned. But Lock didn't retreat. If they'd been fully equipped with ODM gear and anti-personnel weapons, he'd have withdrawn immediately. But as it was, their combat strength relied almost entirely on equipment, and here they were little more than blunt instruments.
That was the flaw of most Interior troops: after training, they grew soft. Their individual combat skills deteriorated instead of improving.
Bang!
Lock surged forward, weaving through attacks. His fist connected squarely with one man's face, dropping him instantly. He shifted positions constantly, refusing to be surrounded, forcing the fight into one-on-one or one-on-two skirmishes.
With his speed, strength, endurance, and toughness, the fight was utterly one-sided.
Within ten minutes, Lock stood alone amidst the fallen soldiers.
"Thirty-two…" he counted, breathing evenly. "Not enough. You'd need at least a hundred to bring me down."
Around him, groaning soldiers lay sprawled. Those who weren't badly injured chose to stay down and play dead, unwilling to test their luck further.
A slow clap echoed through the chamber.
From behind a crystal pillar, a well-dressed man emerged. Kenny, fully armed, followed at his side, giving Lock a subtle wink.
Lock didn't react outwardly, though inwardly he sighed. So that's how it is.
The man studied Lock with keen interest.
"As expected of someone recommended by Kenny. Lock, you're impressive. I appreciate talent like yours," he said warmly.
"Who are you?" Lock asked lightly.
He already knew—Rod Reiss—the true ruler behind the throne.
Rod turned to Kenny. "You didn't tell him?"
"Of course not. Without your order, why would I spill something that important?" Kenny replied with his usual lazy grin. His tone carried no respect, but Rod didn't seem to mind. Kenny had always been like that. As long as he was useful and loyal enough to remove threats, Rod indulged his behavior.
"Good."
Rod nodded, then looked Lock in the eye. "I am Rod Reiss—the true king you serve."
Lock's lips curved faintly. "The anonymous king, huh? How interesting."
Like Kenny before him, he showed no reverence—only measured curiosity.
Rod had expected a different reaction. His smile faltered. He glanced at Kenny awkwardly.
"Typical of the people you recommend," he muttered. "But it's fine. Ability matters more than attitude."
Then his expression hardened.
"I'll ask only once, Lock. Will you serve me?"
Around them, hundreds of Anti-Personnel Control Squad soldiers suddenly emerged, fully armed, encircling Lock. Even the soldiers who had been groaning on the floor scrambled back into formation, rifles raised.
Lock tilted his head slightly. "I've always been working for you… My king."
He deliberately emphasized the last words.
Rod's eyes narrowed. "You're a clever man. You know exactly what I mean."
Lock's smirk deepened. "So domineering."
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