Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Ron stood at the station entrance, the cover of the [Threshold of Darkness] compressed to its limit.

Even so, he could still feel a subtle "repulsion" in the surrounding air.

It's not directed at him personally, but at the "heterogeneity" inherent in his very existence.

Eighteen years of seclusion in the abyss made him like a walking "singularity," constantly radiating fluctuations beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.

"Associate Professor."

Silas pushed up his rune glasses, revealing a dense stream of data displayed on the lenses:
"Your current radiation level is 0.7 sieverts per hour."

Although it has been suppressed to below the safe threshold, for ordinary people who have absolutely no magic resistance…

"Within five minutes, it could cause irreversible physical deformities."

"I know."

Ron was somewhat helpless:

"Therefore, we need to maintain distance and minimize direct contact with ordinary people."

"This is not only for them, but also to avoid unnecessary trouble."

After all, if a large number of civilians were to die due to radiation contamination, regardless of the reason, it would severely hinder their travel.

Just then, a commotion broke out inside the station.

The originally crowded waiting hall suddenly dispersed to both sides like a tide.

Dozens of soldiers in uniform quickly entered.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their rune rifles poised to fire at any moment.

"Clear the area! Clear the area!"

The leading officer shouted, his voice amplified throughout the hall:
"Upon receiving orders from higher command, Central Station shall immediately activate the VIP access procedure!"

"All civilian passengers, proceed immediately to the temporary waiting area on the east side!"

"Those who disobey will be dealt with as 'obstructing official business'!"

Complaints and questions erupted from the crowd:
"What VIPs? Why are you kicking us out?"

"I've already bought the tickets! This is a breach of contract!"

"I want to file a complaint! I want to file a complaint with the Alliance Council!"

But these protests were quickly suppressed by greater pressure.

The soldiers began shoving the slower passengers, the muzzles of their rune rifles subtly pointing at the crowd—a silent threat more effective than any words.

In less than five minutes, the once bustling waiting hall became empty.

Only the soldiers and a few young men in apprentice robes remained.

"call……"

The leading officer breathed a sigh of relief and strode towards Ron and his group.

He stood at attention and saluted from about twenty meters away:

"Honorable Wizard Ralph!"

"Commander Kao Schmidt of the Third Battalion of the Gear City Garrison of the Industrial Alliance salutes you."

His movements were textbook perfect, yet a light sheen of sweat was seeping from his forehead.

It wasn't because he was nervous, but because... even from such a distance, he could clearly feel it.

Even though Ron tried his best to suppress it, the faint "sense of oppression" still existed.

It's like standing next to a volcano about to erupt; you're safe for now, but your instincts are still screaming warnings.

"Thank you for your hard work, Battalion Commander."

Ron nodded:
"However, is clearing the area a bit excessive? I don't want to disrupt the normal travel of ordinary passengers."

"These are necessary safety measures, Associate Professor."

Káo answered immediately, his tone respectful yet firm:

"According to Article 47 of the Regulations on the Management of Extraordinary Persons, when a formal wizard enters a densely populated area, the area must be cleared in advance to ensure that the radiation impact is minimized."

"not to mention……"

He lowered his voice:
"You've brought so many companions with you this time, and so many formal wizards appearing at the same time... If we don't take proper precautions..."

"The consequences would be unimaginable."

Ron nodded slightly upon hearing these words.

It seems that the world's industrial alliances are well aware of the dangers of "extraordinary radiation."

This is much more rational than the tribes in the shifting sands who blindly worship the strong.

"understood."

He said no more, and instead asked:
Where is our guide?

"We're already waiting, Associate Professor!"

Kao made a gesture.

A young man dressed in an apprentice's robe immediately jogged over.

He wore a relatively neat dark gray apprentice robe, with a leather bag full of potions hanging from his waist, and a badge that read "Grey Tower Academy - Intermediate Apprentice" on his chest.

The boy's face still had a touch of childishness, but his eyes were unusually focused.

As he approached Ron, his movements became noticeably stiff, as if his body was instinctively resisting some kind of "discomfort."

"Respected... Wizard Ralph..."

The boy took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice steady:
“My name is Tommy Grayson, a fourth-year apprentice at Grey Tower Academy, majoring in… cough cough… industrial runic literature.”

"I have been commissioned by the Industrial Alliance to serve as your guide to Twilight City."

Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he spoke.

Ron could clearly "see" that the boy's pitiful amount of magic was working frantically, trying to build a rudimentary protective layer to block the radiation he emitted.

But that little bit of magic was like trying to block a cannonball with a paper shield in the face of his radiation.

"Feel sorry."

Ron tightened the shielding field of [Dark Threshold] even further:
"Will this be better?"

The boy was stunned for a moment, then was pleasantly surprised to find that the heaviness pressing on his chest had indeed lessened considerably.

"Much better! Thank you!"

Tommy smiled gratefully and relaxed completely.

"Actually...actually, I wasn't qualified to take on this task."

"According to custom, the guide who receives a distinguished guest like you must be at least a senior apprentice."

"But the situation in Misty Harbor has become tense recently, and all the advanced apprentices have been transferred there to provide support..."

He scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed.
"So I, the 'half-baked' one, have to fill in."

"Please forgive us if there is anything we cannot provide in terms of service."

This self-deprecating remark lightened the atmosphere considerably.

"It's ok."

Ron smiled and said:
"It's already quite good that you can withstand my radiation at the intermediate apprentice stage."

"This means your ability to control magic is not weak, at least stronger than that of your peers."

Tommy blushed at the compliment.

He clearly hadn't expected such encouragement from such an important figure.

"Um... Lord Ralph, shall we go to the platform now?"

"Ah."

Ron nodded:

"Please introduce yourself to us while you're at it."

"Ok!"

Tommy immediately got to work, leading the way and explaining as he went:
There are two main ways to get to Twilight City.

They walked through the empty waiting hall and ventured deeper into the building.

"The first type is the 'daytime train'."

Tommy's tone became serious:
"This kind of train is in the sun... well, although the sun here is always on the horizon, we still use the term 'relatively bright' time of day as daytime."

"The entire journey takes about twelve hours and passes through three human-controlled cities."

"Each city will have a 15-minute stop to allow passengers to rest, resupply, or transfer to other routes."

"The advantage of daytime trains is safety."

He emphasized:

"The vehicle was equipped with a full escort team—twelve elite soldiers, all equipped with rune weapons and blood crystal armor."

"The outer layer of the vehicle is covered with three layers of protection: mechanical armor, rune shield, and blood crystal energy field."

"In theory, it can withstand a full-force attack from a viscount-level vampire."

"What if we encounter an even stronger enemy..."

Tommy paused:
"The train can send out a distress signal, and nearby human settlements will send support within thirty minutes."

"It does sound very safe."

Silas commented:

"What about the second one?"

"The second type is the 'night express'."

Tommy's expression became complicated:
"It departs at night, which is when the blood moon's glow is strongest."

"Directly to Twilight City, without stopping at any stations along the way, the entire journey takes only six hours."

"The speed is twice as fast, and the ticket price is 30% cheaper."

"But……"

He lowered his voice:

"The night express train will pass through vampire territory."

"Although bound by the 'Coexistence Treaty,' vampires are theoretically prohibited from attacking trains with valid permits."

"But there are always...unexpected events."

Fear flashed in Tommy's eyes:
"Sometimes, the vampires in a 'frenzied' state suddenly lose control and attack passing trains."

"Sometimes it was a conflict between the 'royalists' and the 'reformers' who made the train a target."

"And sometimes..."

He took a deep breath:

"Someone deliberately created an 'accident' and then shifted the blame to the vampires."

“Last month, a night express train went missing while passing through the Shadow Woods.”

"All 237 passengers are missing."

"The official report says it was a 'massive attack by berserk vampires,' but the internal documents I saw in the academy library show..."

Tommy looked around to make sure no one was nearby before whispering:

"That was actually a retaliatory action by the 'Fang' clan."

"Because the industry alliance rejected their proposal to 'limit the expansion of sea lanes'."

"So they sent their elite troops disguised as berserk vampires to slaughter all the passengers on the train."

"This serves as a warning to the alliance—don't go too far."

This information is very important.

Ron noticed that when Tommy uttered the name "Fang Clan," the expressions of the soldiers around him changed.

Obviously, this is not a topic that can be discussed publicly.

"Then let's choose the daytime train."

Ron made a decision.

Although their team is capable of handling most dangers, there's no need for them to deliberately invite trouble.

The purpose of this trip is to reach Twilight City and meet Euphemia, not to intentionally grind monsters.

"A wise choice, Associate Professor!"

Tommy visibly breathed a sigh of relief:

"Actually, nine out of ten wizards I've met choose the daytime train."

"Only those who are in a real hurry, or... those who are arrogantly confident, would choose the night express train."

They arrived at platform three.

The scene here is completely different from the crowded and chaotic ordinary waiting area just now.

The platform is spacious and bright, with polished marble flooring and a runic street lamp every ten meters, emitting a soft white light.

A faint minty scent filled the air; it was the smell of the air purifier in operation.

At the edge of the platform stands a transparent magical barrier.

Pale blue runes flowed across the barrier, rippling gently like water, completely isolating the VIP area from the outside world.

"This is a 'Level 3 Purification Barrier'."

Tommy explained:
"It can filter 99% of harmful substances in the air, including industrial waste gas, blood pollution, and..."

He glanced at Ron:
"And extraordinary radiation."

"Although the radiation effect on your level is limited, it can at least allow ordinary staff to stay in the vicinity for a longer period of time."

A silver-gray train sat quietly on the tracks.

A middle-aged woman in a dark blue uniform was standing at the ticket gate.

Her uniform was embroidered with a "Flight Attendant" badge, and she wore a professional smile.

When she saw Ron's wizard's robes, the woman's smile became even more genuine:
"Honorable Wizard Ralph, welcome aboard the Gear! You and your team have been assigned to the first-class carriage."

The flight attendant handed over ten beautifully crafted tickets:

"That's the most comfortable and safest spot on the entire train."

"Equipped with an independent rune-based air conditioning system, a protective barrier, and..."

Her smile became somewhat stiff:

"There is also an enhanced 'radiation shielding layer'."

"To ensure that ordinary passengers are not subjected to...unnecessary impacts."

The last sentence was phrased euphemistically, but the meaning was quite clear.

Ron nodded, not feeling offended.

After all, this is to protect those vulnerable mortals.

"in addition……"

She took out several exquisite booklets, their covers embossed with gold and exuding a faint scent of ink:
"This is a travel guide for the cities along the route, as well as the latest 'Safety Guidelines' released by the industry consortium."

"Even with you here, Wizard, these things are probably unnecessary..."

Ron took the receipt and booklet, noticing a line of striking blood-red text printed on the cover of the "Safety Instructions":

"Beware of mania! Reports are rewarded!"

Below is an illustration—a vampire with bloodshot eyes and bared fangs is attacking innocent civilians, while the surrounding citizens fight back with various weapons.

The art style is rough yet provocative, and the black-and-white narrative makes it easy for people to make the simplistic judgment that "we are righteous and they are evil."

"The publicity department has been working very hard lately."

Tommy whispered from the side:
"Look over there."

He pointed to the wall of the platform.

The walls were covered with all sorts of posters:
Some were displaying the latest rune rifles, with the title:
"Everyone is a warrior! Defend our homeland!"

Some depicted a spectacular scene of factory chimneys standing tall, with slogans reading:

"Labor creates the future! Justice will prevail over evil!"

Others depicted a vampire being trampled underfoot, with the words:

"The rulers of the old era will eventually become dust in history."

……

These posters share a unified style, employing strong contrasting colors and exaggerated compositions, with only one purpose—to instill racial pride in humanity while demonizing vampires.

"The industry alliance spent a lot of money on publicity."

Tommy continued to explain:

"They say that only when every human realizes their own power can the fear of vampires be truly eradicated."

"Fear is a shackle, while confidence..."

He looked at the posters:
"Confidence is liberation."

Ron did not respond immediately.

He simply looked quietly at the faces of the guards around him.

Their faces were filled with a variety of emotions—some were excited, some were nervous, some were numb, and some even had a kind of fanaticism in their eyes.

But regardless of the emotion, they all have one thing in common:

They truly believe that times have changed.

They genuinely believed that humanity had the strength to contend with vampires.

This belief is so strong, so strong, that it borders on blindness.

"Let's go."

Half an hour later, the sound of the steam whistle echoed throughout the entire station.

The "Gear" began to start slowly.

Ron stood by the window in first class, watching the platform gradually recede into the distance.

The figures waving goodbye, the figures running to catch the train, the vendors still hawking their wares... everything was rapidly shrinking, eventually disappearing into the distance.

"This carriage..."

Blake looked around and let out a heartfelt sigh:

"Damn, that's luxurious." The interior of the first-class cabin truly deserves the word "luxury."

The walls are covered with dark walnut paneling, with exquisite relief carvings on the surface.

It features the gears of a steam engine, scenes of trains speeding by, and an epic tale of humanity's victory over monsters.

The seats are made of genuine leather, are large and comfortable, and each seat is equipped with an adjustable backrest and footrest.

Buttons are embedded in the armrests, which can be used to summon waiters or adjust the temperature and lighting inside the carriage.

The most surprising thing was the windows.

It was a specially made rune crystal, three fingers thick, with complex protective runes engraved on its surface.

"It has one-way vision and is also bulletproof and magic-resistant."

Silas adjusted his glasses and carefully examined the runes along the edge of the window:
"This rune array is cleverly designed, combining the three characteristics of 'solidity,' 'transparency,' and 'concealment.'"

"If I'm not mistaken, this should be the patented technology of 'Prism Protection'."

"The cost is considerable."

He sighed:

"The cost of just the windows in this carriage probably exceeds two hundred magic stones."

Miller sat down in his seat, sinking into the soft leather: "The Industrial Alliance really knows how to spend money."

"Because first class is a status symbol."

Edwin took a bottle of chilled drink from a small alchemical refrigerator in the corner of the carriage, unscrewed the cap, and took a big gulp:

“Wizards, nobles, and big merchants—those who can afford to fly first class are all people of status.”

“Making first class luxurious is a way of showing the strength of the industrial alliance to these ‘upper class’ people.”

"This is a form of publicity, a way of showing off."

He looked out the window:
"It's also a kind of...demonstration."

As the train emerged from the station's shelter, the view suddenly opened up.

The entire city of Gear is now in view.

The first thing that catches the eye is the vast factory area.

Hundreds of chimneys, like a steel forest, are densely packed in the southern part of the city, each spewing thick smoke into the sky day and night.

The smoke intertwined and mixed in the air, forming a thick layer of haze that gave the outside a filter reminiscent of old photographs.

Huge slogans can be clearly seen on the factory's exterior walls:

"Labor creates the future!"

"Justice will prevail over evil!"

"Human glory is built upon the gears!"

These slogans, painted in bright red paint, each character over two meters tall, stood out starkly against the gray background, as glaring as blood.

Ron saw that workers were lining up to enter the factory.

The queue stretched as far as the eye could see, the dense crowd moving slowly like ants.

Every worker was dressed in uniform gray overalls, with dust masks on their faces, hunched shoulders, and heavy steps.

Their eyes were vacant, like soulless zombies, as they mechanically strode forward.

If someone walked too slowly, they would immediately be lashed awake by the overseer's whip.

The overseers were tall, wearing leather armor, and carrying stun guns and pistols at their waists.

They patrolled back and forth beside the procession, their eyes as indifferent as if they were looking at livestock.

"Sixteen hours a day."

Tommy had somehow walked up to Ron, his voice very soft:

"These are the standard working hours at the Gear City factory."

"I enter the factory at six in the morning and leave at ten at night."

There were only two breaks in between, each lasting fifteen minutes.

"The wage is thirty copper coins a day, which is just enough to buy food for a family of four."

"If I want to eat some meat, buy my child a new outfit, or save money for medical treatment..."

He shook his head:

"Then you'll have to work overtime. There's no extra pay for overtime, but you can earn 'points'."

Accumulate 100 points, and you can exchange them for a 'priority medical treatment voucher' or a can of meat.

"and……"

Tommy's voice became even lower:
"There are many accidents in the factory."

"Machines are eating people, steam is exploding, magic is leaking..."

“Every month, workers die on the job.”

"The Industrial Alliance will give the family a 'compensation'—ten gold pounds or a magic stone fragment."

"Then the family members will be evicted from the factory dormitory to make way for newly recruited workers."

He sighed:

"And those new workers are often the sons or brothers of the previous group of dead."

"This is a complete cycle."

Inside the carriage, Herman and several other young apprentices looked rather grim.

"But……"

Liz hesitated before speaking:
Why didn't they resist?

"Resist?"

Tommy smiled wryly:

"How will you fight back? With your flesh and blood against rune rifles? With wooden sticks against mechanical guards?"

Five years ago, a major strike broke out in the southern factory area.

"More than 3,000 workers refused to go to work, demanding higher wages and better treatment."

"The industry alliance's response was..."

His voice trembled:

"The army has been dispatched."

"It's not negotiation, it's not compromise, it's the army directly."

"Armored vehicles drove into the factory, machine guns were mounted on the city walls, and rune cannons were aimed at the workers' dormitories."

"Then, the alliance representatives gave the strike leaders two options."

Either resume work immediately, or label them all "rebels" and execute them on the spot.

"The strike leader, an old worker named Thomas, stepped forward to argue."

“He said, we’re not rebelling, we just want to live like human beings…”

Tommy closed his eyes:

He was shot dead on the spot before he could finish speaking.

"He was riddled with bullets in front of three thousand workers."

"Blood was splattered all over the ground, and the head rolled a long way away..."

"Then, everyone went back to work."

“Since then, no one has dared to mention the word ‘strike’ again.”

The train continued on its way, gradually leaving the factory area behind.

In its place lies a relatively "normal" residential area.

Although the buildings here are simple, at least they are not as oppressive as those in factories.

The low brick houses are scattered in an orderly fashion, with clothes hanging to dry on the windows, and children can occasionally be seen playing in the street.

Ron noticed that even these "ordinary" residents had an indescribable weariness on their faces.

It's a kind of weariness that comes from living under pressure for a long time and gradually losing hope.

At the street corner stood a tall statue.

It was a man in overalls, holding a hammer, his gaze fixed firmly into the distance.

An inscription is carved on the base of the statue:

"A tribute to every worker who contributes to human civilization."

Ironically, the statue was surrounded by litter, and the walls were covered in graffiti.
"We are not cogs in a machine!"

"Give us freedom!"

"The vampires are hateful, but the alliance is even more hateful!"

The train crossed an iron bridge, beneath which lay a dried-up riverbed.

The riverbed cracked open, revealing grayish-brown soil.

The air was filled with a putrid odor, the stench of death left behind by industrial wastewater seeping into the ground and killing all life.

Along the riverbanks, you can see some abandoned villages.

The house collapsed, and the walls were covered with bullet holes and charred burn marks.

Scattered on the ground were fragments of weapons, broken armor, and... bones that looked like they had been gnawed on.

“Those are traces left by the ‘cleaning’.”

Tommy spoke again:
"I've seen this kind of scene before."

"When a region is suspected of harboring vampires, the Industrial Alliance's approach is neither investigation nor trial..."

Instead, it's washed directly.

"It's better to kill a thousand innocent people than to let one guilty person go free."

He looked at the ruins:
"That village was probably cleansed three years ago."

"The reason is that someone reported that the village chief is a vampire in disguise."

"The results of it?"

Tommy sneered:

“The entire village, more than three hundred people, were killed.”

"In the end, it was discovered that the so-called 'vampire village chief' was just a poor wretch with a skin disease who was mistaken for someone else because of his pale skin."

"But the person is already dead, what's the point of saying anything?"

"The Industrial Alliance's approach was to give each victim's family one hundred copper coins and then erect a monument at the village entrance that read, 'Remember the massacre, never forget.'"

His tone was full of sarcasm:

"It's as if they're slaughtering vampires, not themselves."

Withered bouquets and rusty crosses lay before the monument, creaking mournfully in the wind.

No one will come to pay their respects, and no one will remember that life once existed here.

Ruins, just ruins.

The dead are just numbers.

The atmosphere inside the carriage became heavy.

Even the young students who had come with the excitement of conquering another world fell silent.

They began to realize that the world's "progress" was built on the suffering and sacrifice of countless people.

The Industrial Revolution brought power, but it also brought deeper oppression.

Humanity escaped the rule of the vampires, but fell into another kind of shackle.

It was a chain of gears, steam, and cold efficiency.

Is this what they call 'liberation'?

Hermann muttered to himself:

"To flee from the rule of one tyrant to the rule of another."

"The only difference is..."

"The former at least has a body of flesh and blood, while the latter..."

He looked out the window at the factory area:

"All that's left are cold machines."

Ron said nothing.

He simply stared out the window, watching those lives being crushed in the name of "progress."

After a long while, he finally spoke:
"Human greed and cruelty will never disappear with the changing times."

"It will only put on a new guise and a new banner to continue to devour the weak."

"When the vampires ruled, they said, 'It's fate.'"

“When the industrial alliance was in power, they said, ‘This is progress.’”

"But for those at the bottom of society..."

His voice was deep:

"Whoever rules, they are just fuel."

"Fuel that can be consumed at will to keep this world running."

………………

Deep within the ancestral lands of the Heart Clan, an ancient castle shrouded in layers of blood mist stands silently.

The reliefs carved on the walls depict the glorious past of the vampires:

Nobles raised their cups under the moonlight, predators chased each other in the dark, and there was the magnificent scene of all races submitting when the "king" ascended the throne.

Now, however, these reliefs are covered in dust, just like the fate of this race itself, which is moving from glory to decline.

In the deepest chamber of the castle, Grand Duke Arkady Valentine stood alone before the French windows, gazing at the eternal blood-red twilight outside.

He looked to be in his early forties, with soft features yet exuding the arrogance characteristic of nobility.

The crystal wine glass in his hand contained a treasure from a private wine cellar—the "Twilight Tear," a wine from before the dawn of humanity, said to be priceless with every drop.

But at this moment, he found the drink tasteless and didn't even know how many cups he had already downed.

In a corner of the secret room, the long-distance communication array "Echo of Blood," constructed from pure silver and blood crystals, was ready.

The Grand Duke took a deep breath, walked to the center of the magic circle, and carefully placed three bottles of "Twilight Tears" on the three nodes of the magic circle.

This is the "cost" of communication.

It wasn't magic, nor blood, but the only "entry fee" that the picky dwarf wizard approved.

Magic was injected, and the magic circle began to operate.

Blood mist rose from the ground, swirled and condensed in the air, eventually forming a blurry humanoid projection.

The outline of the projection gradually became clear, revealing a short, stocky figure with a thick beard.

He was a mixed-race dwarf, only 1.5 meters tall, but with astonishingly broad shoulders.

He wore an oil-stained work apron with various tools hanging on it—a hammer, a wrench, a rune engraving knife, and a steaming portable furnace.

What is most striking is his fiery red beard, which grows almost to his chest and is adorned with several small bells at the end.

At this moment, the dwarf was holding a barrel of wine, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glazed, and he exuded a strong smell of alcohol.

"Oh! It's our esteemed Grand Duke Arcadi!"

Gaetano Reggio's voice was loud and clear, like the pounding of an anvil, and was clearly tinged with drunkenness:
"You're coming to see this old man so late, looks like you've run into trouble, right?"

He shook the barrel of wine in his hand, making a gurgling sound as the liquid sloshed around.
"Tsk tsk, I say, Your Excellency, don't you vampires love to be active at night?"

Why do you look even more haggard than this old drunkard?

The Grand Duke's lips twitched.

He had grown accustomed to the old dwarf's "unconventional" manner.

But every time I see him in this drunken state, I can't help but wonder if this is really the Dark Sun-level wizard who is known as the "Father of Industry" in the "Industrial Alliance".

"Your Excellency Gaetano."

He tried his best to keep his tone respectful:
"I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but there are some things that only you can help me understand."

"Answer my questions? Heh!"

The dwarf wizard slapped the wine barrel hard:
"I knew it! You high and mighty dukes usually treat this old man like a watchdog sent by the main world, but you only try to curry favor with him when you need something!"

"But..."

He squinted at the three bottles of "Twilight Tears" on the magic circle node, his eyes gleaming:

"Since you're so sincere, and I'm in a good mood today, I can chat with you."

As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed, and three bottles of rare wine appeared directly in his hand.

"Ha! This is good stuff!"

Gaetano held a bottle up to the light, examined it, and nodded in satisfaction.
"The brewing techniques from before the human era have now been lost."

"If you like it, I'll send you another box another day."

The Grand Duke smiled ingratiatingly:

"If you can help me answer my questions today."

"A whole case? You're quite generous, aren't you!"

The dwarf laughed heartily, but his seemingly dazed eyes were unusually clear:

"Okay, then go ahead and ask what you want to ask."

The Grand Duke hesitated slightly, but then spoke:

"What do you know about that Ron Ralph...?"

The air suddenly became quiet.

Gaetano's previously cheerful expression softened somewhat.

He tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful of wine, then let out a loud burp:

"Hiccup! Ron Ralph..."

He wiped the wine stains from his lips:
"You asked about this kid because he recently came to the Chaotic Blood World?" (End of Chapter)