A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 135 Two Questions
At noon, in the industrial area of ​​West City, Aiswell, a rhinoceros-drawn vehicle slowly drove into the Kane Steel Plant.

As soon as the orc security guards at the steel mill saw the rhinoceros, they immediately ran out, opened the gate, stood ramrod straight, and stared fervently at the carriage hidden behind the curtain.

The rhinoceros pulling the cart is scientifically known as the Kawanda rhinoceros, commonly found in the western continent. It is popularly called the lesser armored rhinoceros and is closely related to the rarer, magical armored rhinoceros. While this type of rhinoceros doesn't possess the same ability to manipulate the earth elemental mana as the armored rhinoceros, its mud-like, hardened skin is remarkably tough, making it difficult for ordinary swords to penetrate.

Like chocobos and horses, the armored rhinoceros is a domesticable cart-pulling animal, but its speed and endurance are far inferior to the two, while its cost of raising them is many times higher. These heavy animals are typically used for military assaults; in cities, they are used only by gang members, and specifically by high-ranking leaders.

Unlike horses or chocobos, armored rhinoceroses are not easily killed when suddenly attacked. They can also be driven mad for a short time by magical potions, rampaging and carrying their owners away from danger. The exceptionally large and rare white individual that entered the Kane Steel Mill was easily recognizable to anyone familiar with the Ashwell underworld.

A black man dressed in a crisp white suit stepped down from the carriage. Judging from his refined demeanor, he did not resemble a gangster at all, but rather a gentleman heading to a ball.

Kane, the steel mill owner, was already waiting there. The portly old man looked a little nervous, but he forced a smile and went up to him, saying, "Mr. Carpenter, this is the fifth batch of prototypes. I've been overseeing the entire production process, and I can guarantee that the quality is absolutely no problem."

Although he said things like "there's no problem with the quality," his tone was really not very confident.

Ike took a box out of the car, patted him on the shoulder, and thanked him.

"Please wait for me for ten minutes. Same place as usual?"

"Of course, all the workers have been dismissed, so you can rest assured and continue your experiment."

There is a warehouse ahead.

The door opened and closed again, and Ike, carrying a suitcase, walked alone into the dark warehouse.

With a slight movement of his right wrist, a shuriken was embedded in the ceiling.

Then the dart's ribbon caught fire, illuminating the entire warehouse like a flare.

This was a warehouse used to store raw iron ore, but it appeared unusually empty at this moment. The ground was swept clean, with only a table placed in the center of the warehouse.

On the table were a dozen or so oddly shaped steel forgings.

Fifty meters in front of the table, there was a row of archery training targets.

Before Ike had even settled down at the table, his left hand started picking through the parts on its own.

He lowered his head slightly in dissatisfaction and spoke to the empty warehouse:

"Hey, I've told you so many times, you're not allowed to do whatever you want with my body."

"It won't work without people."

His left hand seemed to be defiant, twisting a section of the gun barrel between his fingers.

Ike gave a cruel smile.

"Yes, this hand belongs to you; it was given to you in the transaction, but the transaction didn't stipulate that you can't use it—"

With a snap, the gun barrel fell onto the table, and the hand instantly became still.

"You know my hometown, the people of the Western Continent don't even use toilet paper to wipe their butts. India? What kind of country is India?"

Ike began picking up the parts on the table one by one, following his own will.

He continued talking to himself.

How is the quality of this batch?

"Do I need to remind you? My diploma only covers prenatal education; I don't understand what you're talking about, blast furnace ironmaking and chemical purification."

"Just passable? That's pretty good then."

The parts in his hands were flat and smooth, with a uniform weight, and even with Ike's sharp eyes, he couldn't find any tiny cracks on the surface.

The blast furnace ironmaking process at Temuran is mostly manual, and internal stresses and minor damage caused by uneven temperature are unavoidable. However, these dozen or so parts were indeed, as Kane said, high-quality products produced under his personal supervision and strict quality control.

This is already the limit of Kane's steel mill; no matter how much Ike tries to coerce or entice him, he can't produce anything of better quality.

This is almost the limit of what ordinary people can achieve in iron smelting.

But in the extraordinary world shrouded in social shadows, there are four legendary workshops that can produce creations far exceeding the level of civilization, and one of them is located in the city of Axwell, which is the academy's research and development department.

Aside from meeting the academy's own needs, the R&D department only creates equipment for warriors and has not shared any technology with the general public.

"What do you mean 'try first'? If this doesn't work either, then I'm out of ideas. You can't expect me to go to the academy's research and development department, can you? I'm avoiding them like the plague. Recently, a specialist from the academy has been openly investigating us, damn it."

"The Empire? To hell with the Empire! Of course I know the Empire's steelmaking technology is far superior to this crappy ironworks, but how am I supposed to cross the Misty Sea? Besides, the Empire's steelworks produce on demand; who am I supposed to find to take orders?"

As he rambled on, his left hand started moving on its own again.

Picking up the parts on the table, he and his right hand, which clearly didn't quite understand the process, began assembling them piece by piece.

Locking mechanism, magazine, receiver, stock, rifling, barrel.
Before long, a sleek rifle appeared in Ek Capone's hands.

He carefully examined the gun. It was an AK-47, a one-to-one replica made from blueprints, which was once another of the world's most produced and classic weapons.

This wasn't the first time Ekcarpenter had seen a fully assembled gun. The one in his hand was even more refined than the first batch produced, with a captivating metallic sheen on the barrel and the gun's aesthetic beauty gleaming through its smooth lines, leaving him in awe.

"A nice little thing. The enforcer's flintlock pistol looks like a fire poker compared to this. It would be better if it could even make a sound."

Eckcarpon opened the box he had brought; inside were five glass bottles that were tightly separated by sponges.

Each glass bottle contains only a small amount of grayish-brown powder, and the bottles are completely wrapped in sponge to prevent any bumps from causing the powder inside to explode.

He carefully took out a glass bottle, pulled off the cap, picked up a bullet from the table, carefully poured some powder onto the bullet's tail, pressed it down with a small plunger, and then closed the cap. He did this for ten bullets and loaded them all into the magazine.

"You'd better pray that your wonderful inventions work. I don't understand why you have to use arcane artifacts when gunpowder can achieve the same effect. This damn powder cost me five thousand gold pounds, and I bet those arcane sorcerers of the wandering government embezzled a lot of it—"

He raised the gun with his left hand and aimed it at the bullseye fifty meters away.

Before Ike could finish speaking, he pulled the trigger with his left hand.

Thud—Bang!
The expected burst of fire did not occur; the bullets exploded before even leaving the barrel.

The all-iron gun barrel shattered, and half of the barrel flew toward Ike's head, but he had anticipated the barrel explosion and dodged it by tilting his head slightly.

But his pure white suit wasn't so lucky; a dark, unsightly streak of potion powder flew out from the cuff of his left sleeve, and he cursed angrily—

"Damn! Even the ancient cannon the academy used to defend against demons a thousand years ago wouldn't explode like this!"

"A problem with the powder? How could it be a problem with the powder? Everything worked perfectly in the experiments at the workshop, the explosive power was exactly what you wanted—"

A while later, Ike reluctantly began assembling the second gun.

It seems that the explosion was anticipated, and multiple sets of parts were prepared according to his request.

Insert the magazine, aim, and pull the trigger.

The bullets still didn't fire as expected; this time, it was the magazine that exploded, almost blowing up Ike's basket.

On two separate occasions, with almost identical firearms and ammunition, different problems arose.

This wasn't the first time; the previous four batches of guns produced by Kane Steelworks all exploded, and not a single one could fire successfully.

Ike reluctantly began assembling the third gun.

"Your stuff is no good. Stop spouting nonsense. Do you know how expensive the molds for these parts are? You're wasting my money."

"To be honest, this method is so stupid even the pack animals would laugh."

"You must be crazy, and I'm crazy too, to actually think it could work."

After the third gun was loaded, Ike did not fire it immediately. Instead, he took out a cross pendant from inside his suit.

This is a sun pendant, with an abstract sun symbol surrounded by a gold border in the center of a cross.

The pendant in his hand was no ordinary pendant. Judging from the crooked, intricate symbols on the cross that looked as if they had been carved by hand, it was a specially treated pendant.

It allows people without a belief in the sun to send prayers to the sun.

Instead of looking for the sun's position, Ike simply held the pendant above the gun on the table.

"I fear you command, O God of the Sun." As Ike prayed, the circle of sun symbols on the pendant lit up.

The warm, divine sunlight filled the warehouse, as if a small sun had risen.

Ike kept his eyes tightly closed and his head bowed very low, so that the pendant always hung above his head.

"Bathing in the light, receiving divine grace"

"I am deeply terrified, deeply terrified"

"This place is forbidden; it is infested with supernatural and bizarre phenomena—"

Then, he slowly opened his eyes. The light of the pendant had gone out, the entire cross had turned charred black, and the symbols engraved on it had disappeared.

However, the sunlight still filled the warehouse and lasted for another ten seconds or so.

"Another three thousand gold pounds gone. Your trick always works best—"

Before his left hand could react, Ike preemptively raised the gun with his right hand, aimed at the bullseye, and pulled the trigger sharply.

There was a click.

Then, the scene of flames spitting from the muzzle that Ike had anticipated did not occur. The rifle in his hand remained silent for two seconds, then exploded with a bang. The most serious barrel explosion in the five production batches had occurred, along with the remaining bullets in the magazine. The huge sound echoed in the warehouse.

Ike's expensive suit was blown to shreds, revealing his granite-like muscles. The explosion and flying metal fragments did not harm Ike, but destroyed the charred cross pendant.

Even if it exploded, it shouldn't be this serious.

"What else is there to say?"

"."

"Hey? Why are you silent?"

The sunlight that filled the room dissipated peacefully, leaving behind a black man with a bewildered expression.

Mr. Quinn, would you be interested in having a frank conversation with the Academy? — Like about your true identity.

Quinn calmly met Hermes' gaze. The circular staircase, like an ancient serpent, coiled above their heads, the slight gears of the rotating staircase echoing in the stairwell. There were only the two of them and the magical paintings here.

“As you can see.”

Quinn replied earnestly, "Just an ordinary arcanist who longs to develop in Grindelwald."

"Ordinary arcanists can't stay conscious in the abyss."

Hermes took off his glasses, adjusting the frame, and the black snake stretched out its tail and coiled around them.

"If a person lives long enough, there will always be a moment when they face death." He tilted his head slightly, the candlelight carving a distinct light between the old man's hooked nose and eye sockets. "I have twice. Once was two hundred and forty years ago, outside the walls of Sumulangma, the imperial capital of the Northern Continent, where a demon king's army officer's spear was just a hair's breadth away from piercing my eye socket."

In the candlelight, Quinn noticed that the old man's left eye seemed different from his right.

It wasn't so murky, but rather exuded a mysterious and intellectual aura of arcane magic.

Around his eye socket, there is a scar that is very difficult to notice. Over his two hundred years of life, it has become one with his wrinkles and part of his old age.

“But I was lucky enough to shatter its aura before that.” Hermes put his glasses back on and continued, “And there was another time, which was in the abyss.”

"You almost got infected?"

"Do not."

Hermes said calmly, "I just wanted to see where the sun rises in the abyss, and then I almost fell into the fifth level. It was the old headmaster who pulled me back."

"What does the fourth floor look like?" Quinn asked cautiously.

"You'll see for yourself."

Hermes looked at him with great interest.

"Anyway, you're unaffected in the abyss, aren't you?"

“You’re joking. I’m just putting on a brave face.” Quinn didn’t reveal the slightest flaw: “Even Lynn is much stronger than me.”

If Quinn hadn't entered the abyss, he probably would have simply assumed the identity of the hero.

Just like with Amamiya Nene, he neither admitted nor denied it, keeping the academy hanging on to extract benefits.

But he dared not do anything now, for a simple reason—he couldn't be sure if the academy knew that Lin was a hero.

Judging from the various signs the academy has about Lin, they must know.

But this makes it hard to explain why Hermes' attitude towards him suddenly changed; there is no other possibility than seeing him as a hero.

Could it be because of the immobilization spell from that night?
With Lin's questions in mind, Quinn dared not claim the title, fearing that the academy might discover the Demon King's command seal deep within his soul.

Hermes neither confirmed nor denied his statement, nor did he concern himself with whether it was true or false.

"Do you want to know why I went to the Land of the Abyss Sunrise?"

"I want to," Quinn thought to himself, "Old Bitden wants to sign up for a South Korean tour group."

But instead of continuing, Hermes abruptly changed the subject.

"Among these organizations connected to heroes—the Papacy, the Adventurers' Guild, the Empire, the Eastern Kingdom, and the Holy Tree Cult—only the Academy has fully inherited the hero's will and is the place that bears the most of what the hero has seen, heard, and felt."

Quinn had a lot of questions to ask.

But he could only feign a slight hint of confusion on his face, as if he didn't understand why he said that.

"Do you want to know where the heroes go after they die?"

Quinn subconsciously recalled the words on Merlin's tombstone—

[I have taken over from Link, so I should be able to buy myself about 300 more years.]

[This world can only accommodate two transmigrators at a time. One must die to make room for the next one to enter.]

“I do.” Quinn nodded honestly.

Hemo straightened his collar and headed up the stairs.

"I will answer these two questions whenever you are willing to tell me the truth."

Quinn gritted his teeth in anger. "You son of a bitch, are you trying to keep us in suspense?"
"But before that, you can spend more time at the academy to see what kind of organization Grindelwald is. You can collect the Sequence 8 potion I mentioned anytime, and take whatever else the academy promised you."

Quinn wanted to catch up and ask if it would be possible to exchange the reward promised by the academy for the answer to the second question.

But at this moment.

The door to the school clinic suddenly opened.

The sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came, and before Quinn could turn around, the thin girl hugged him from behind.

Quinn froze abruptly.

“...Celia?”

Celia didn't say anything, just hugged Quinn for a while before letting go.

Quinn turned around with difficulty, only to see Celia standing to the side with a smile, already back to her usual self.

"Teacher, thank you for saving me!" she said sweetly.

"Why are you hugging me?"

"That's a thank-you hug." She smiled shyly, "I suddenly wanted to do that after waking up, but I can't explain why. Please don't be angry, teacher?"

(End of this chapter)