Endless Debt-Chapter 944 - 50: Infinite Sharpness
"That’s everything I witnessed within the Ethereal Realm."
Bologue stood before the long table, utterly exhausted, and said, "I’ve already conveyed this intelligence to the Decision Room."
Having said this, Bologue slumped back into his chair and picked up a potion from the metal box on the table, where silver starlight shimmered.
Bologue infused himself with the Mang Silver Soul; the fullness of the soul brought him a sense of peace. Mamo said that his energy and physical strength were greatly depleted, and this would make him feel better.
He tossed the empty potion aside and looked ahead. On either side of the long table sat aged scholars, just like Mamo, with each looking beyond recognition, sitting in wheelchairs with IV poles standing like flags behind them, colorful bottles hanging from them.
Their emaciated bodies were hidden under the Red Robe, with gold threads interwoven at the corners to signify their noble status.
These scholars were the lucky ones; their bodily functions had merely failed, but they weren’t dead yet. Some scholars had their organs replaced with mechanical internals.
One scholar’s wheelchair was extremely large, with a tangle of cables extending from his abdomen into the humming machine behind the wheelchair, resembling an external circulation system to sustain his life.
Another scholar noticed Bologue’s gaze and returned the look. One of his eyes was deeply sunken into its socket, and the other was a slowly rotating mechanical eyeball, differing from Aimou’s ornamentally optimized eyes. This mechanical eyeball had a rugged style, with lubricant seeping from its seams and flashing a dangerous red light.
After leaving the Inverted Hall, Bologue, without a moment’s rest, was taken by Mamo to the Scholars’ Hall’s conference room to report his actions to these aged scholars.
These old folks were considered precious assets to the Order Bureau. One could say it was this group of half-dead individuals, relying on their withered and frail hands, who propelled the Alchemy Matrix Technology for the Order Bureau and even the entire world.
The rough breathing in the meeting room rose and fell, and from time to time, alarms would sound, indicating a scholar’s heart rate was too fast or their hormone levels exceeded.
Compared to these people, the aged Mamo seemed younger, at least he didn’t quite need a wheelchair to move around.
Outside the conference room, the medical team was already in place, but they were not there for emergency medical rescue, but to prevent these scholars from brain death. For the community, each one was an extremely valuable database and computing unit.
When Bologue was on the verge of losing patience, these scholars seemed to have reached a conclusion, as one of them spoke.
The scholar wasn’t really speaking; his throat had been completely cut open, with a valve attached to his skin, like he was breathing through it. Based on the vibration of his throat, a sharp electronic voice broadcasted from the speaker beneath his wheelchair.
"Bologue Lazarus, thank you for your dedication. You may rest now."
Bologue stood up and saluted the scholars. Just as he was leaving the conference room and the door hadn’t closed yet, that scholar spoke again.
"I hope you all remain rational. At this age, I don’t wish to lose any of you."
The scholars nodded in agreement, and in the next second, the room erupted in a fervent discussion, twisted voices blending together like a banquet of demons.
The scholars, nearly on the brink of death, shouted at the top of their lungs, life support devices blaring alarms, which they ignored. A few, too excited, tilted their heads and went silent. If it weren’t for hearing their rough breathing, others might have thought they had died.
These happenings didn’t catch Bologue’s attention. By this time, he had already walked quite far, the interior of the Scholars’ Hall was extremely silent and cold. Although called a research institution, due to various factors, it felt more like a graveyard, burying the close-to-dying scholars.
"Carrying the flag,"
Bologue muttered to himself. With the help of time, Bologue gradually digested the pressure. Thanks to his twisted psychology, Bologue once again nurtured a Savior complex.
The astronaut said he wasn’t special, and even if he wasn’t chosen, there would be another Chosen One to appear; it could be anyone.
This indifferent response left Bologue momentarily dazed, but after leaving Between Nothingness and conversing with others, coupled with his rational contemplation, Bologue reorganized his fragmented thoughts.
When Bologue first joined, his psychological evaluation contained a few points emphasized by the doctor.
A little narcissistic, somewhat stubborn, plus a hint of a Savior complex...
Bologue’s will was as strong as his Undying Body, seemingly indomitable, he once again stood tall and murmured, "Even if I’m not the destined Savior, so what?"
A strange smile appeared on Bologue’s face, he squinted, his cold and sharp aura emanating from him, for a moment Bologue resembled the villain in a story.
"When did I ever need the Devil’s approval?" 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
Bologue stubbornly said, "If I think I am, then I am. Can vile things like you decide what I am?"
Raising his hand, the glow of the Alchemy Matrix spread along Bologue’s arm; the intricate trails of light resembled an artist’s meticulously carved masterpiece.
