With a few soft pops, several spherical objects were suddenly thrown down from the roof of a nearby building, landing between the two sides and instantly bursting into large, thick clouds of gray smoke!
"Cough, cough! What is this stuff?"
"It's a smoke bomb! Look out!"
The Silvermane Guards fell into chaos.
The smoke seemed to have a strong hypnotic effect. The closest guards, including Bronya, who was trying to maintain Order, felt dizzy the moment they inhaled it and collapsed one after another.
Just then, a shifty figure darted out of the alley like an eel, muttering, "Oh dear, it seems old Sampo has arrived just in time~ Esteemed guests, the ground is cold, let's move somewhere else to chat... huh?"
Sampo, this "enthusiastic" merchant of the Underworld, or perhaps the mysterious Uncle Cold Legs.
He had expected all three people to be lying on the ground, allowing him to make a dashing entrance, then simply drag them away.
But he never expected that once the smoke cleared, while many lay on the ground, one gray figure remained standing there as if nothing had happened, gripping a baseball bat, their golden eyes gazing at him calmly.
The smile on Sampo's face instantly froze.
(No way? This hypnotic smoke is an enhanced version that can even take down Rift creatures! What kind of physique does this girl have?!)
Before he could adjust his expression or say anything to ease the awkward situation, he saw "Stelle" across from him narrow her eyes, and her figure moved instantly!
Fast! So fast that only a gray afterimage remained!
Sampo only felt his vision blur as a vicious gust of wind rushed straight towards his face!
He didn't even have time to shout "Wait—"
"Bang!"
A crisp, muffled sound.
The bat in Jack's hand landed squarely on Sampo's forehead. The force was controlled just right—enough to make him see stars and feel dizzy, but not enough to truly injure him severely.
"Oof!" Sampo cried out in pain, spun around from the blow, and landed hard on his rear. Clutching his forehead, which instantly swelled into a large bump, he was practically tearing up.
(This isn't right... why isn't she playing by the rules?!)
As soon as he looked up, he saw Jack raise the bat again, seemingly intending to deliver the "finishing blow."
"Wait, wait, wait! Beautiful lady! Hero! My dear grandmother! Please spare me!"
Sampo abandoned all pretense of dignity, clasping his hands over his head and explaining rapidly, "I'm one of you! I'm here to help! The Underworld! I know the way! I'll take you to hide from the Silvermane Guards!"
Jack's movement stopped.
Her golden eyes focused on Sampo, seemingly processing the information in his words quickly.
(Underworld... hiding... viable plan.)
She understood the situation almost instantly and determined that this strangely behaving blue-haired man was the quickest "navigator" available.
Thus, under Sampo's terrified gaze, Jack quickly put away her bat.
Without hesitation, she turned, fluidly grabbing one person with each hand, hoisting the unconscious March 7th and Danheng under her armpits like sacks of grain. Her movements were so precise and efficient, they seemed rehearsed countless times.
Then, she started running toward the alley entrance where Sampo had just darted out.
"W-wait!"
Sampo, clutching the bump on his forehead, struggled to his feet, staring dumbfounded at Jack's seamless operation. "Hold on! You don't even know the way, and you're just running off?!"
Hearing this, Jack paused, seemingly giving the matter actual thought.
Then, as if she suddenly remembered something, she abruptly turned and ran back.
Seeing this, Sampo's heart lifted. He thought the other party had finally realized she needed him as a guide, and he was momentarily touched:
(It seems this girl is reasonable after all...)
However, Jack didn't even glance at him. Instead, she ran straight to the unconscious Bronya, repeated the process, and efficiently hoisted her onto her shoulder—now she had March 7th under her left armpit, Danheng under her right, and Bronya draped over her shoulder.
Sampo: "???"
His mouth hung open in an O-shape, and he was completely petrified on the spot.
(Wait... her... is this the right script?)
Jack adjusted her posture again, confirmed that all three "pieces of luggage" were securely fastened, glanced at the still-stunned Sampo, seemed to decide everything was fine, and turned to run again.
"Wait! What about me! Don't run so fast!"
Sampo was completely panicked now. Forgetting the bump on his head, he scrambled to chase after her, shouting in a low voice as he ran, "Hey! Good sister! You're running in the wrong direction! The Underworld entrance is the other way! And can you even run carrying so much 'baggage'? Does old Sampo need to help you carry some?"
Jack, ahead of him, did not slow down at all; in fact, she sped up, leaving Sampo with the sight of her back, still carrying three people yet moving with flying speed.
Sampo's mouth twitched. What kind of heaven-defying contraption was this?
[Hertas Office]
The System was meticulously executing its instructions, data streaming like a waterfall in its eyes, silently analyzing the core of the massive construct known as the simulated universe.
Black Herta sat boredly to the side, tapping the edge of the control panel with her fingertips sporadically.
Waiting was tedious, especially on someone else's turf, even if that turf was temporarily "unattended."
She glanced at the focused System and suddenly stood up.
"System, I'm leaving this to you. I'm going to take a walk in the System Space. If anyone comes, you know what to do."
"Directive confirmed. Please rest assured, Madam." The system puppet didn't lift its head, its electronic voice steady and flat.
Black Herta's figure flickered, and she was transported from the office back to the boundless, pure white System Space.
Coming here was not a whim.
The deadlock in her "persuasion" of Anaxa made her realize she needed a deeper understanding of these Golden Descendants, who were confined by the power of Rupert III.
So far, she had only met a handful of them: Cyrene, entangled in chains; Phainon, shattered by ice; Mydei, impaled by a greatsword; Keluida, floating upon a sea of blood; and that... suddenly style-changed, clothes-ripping pugilist Anaxa.
Many other figures were submerged in the depths of this consciousness prison, waiting to be discovered.
She raised her hand and traced a dim light screen in the air, tapping her finger to browse the recorded names.
Her gaze swept past the known few and finally settled on a new name—Castorice.
"Let's take a look at you," she murmured.
A doorway, its edges streaming with dark purple data, silently opened before her.
Beyond the door was not the expected sight of brutality or misery, but rather a place of ultimate tranquility... a sea of purple flowers.
Black Herta raised an eyebrow slightly and stepped inside.
The ground felt soft and real beneath her feet, and a cool, remote fragrance lingered around her nose.
Boundless purple blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, stretching out to the edge of the horizon.
The sky was a deep night curtain, hung with two bright moons. Their clear light fell, draping the flower sea in a layer of dreamy silver gauze.
(The Underworld? It is... quite beautiful.)
Even Black Herta had to admit that the appearance of this place of confinement was unexpectedly peaceful and serene.
But where was the person?
Where was Castorice?
She looked around; there was nothing but flowers.
She released her senses, which swept across the entire sea of flowers like invisible ripples, trying to capture any trace of life.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
It was as if this beautiful Underworld was merely an empty shell.
Castorice, this recorded Chrysos Heir, seemed to have completely merged with this sea of flowers, or perhaps... never existed?
Black Herta frowned slightly, having wandered through this tranquil sea of flowers for a long time, she finally had to give up.
(Another one... who can't be communicated with directly?)
She reluctantly turned and returned to the pure white System Space.
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