He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 132 White Rabbit

A lot can happen in one night, especially for someone like Aina who is incredibly energetic and has no taboos.

She has completed the initial exploration of the bottom nest in her own way. Although the process was somewhat bloody, it shouldn't be a big problem.

At least that's what Aina herself thinks.

Within the area illuminated by the lighthouse, besides the "official" subordinate areas, there are many other jurisdictions not included in this area, such as many distribution centers built around black mining areas—a large part of which are still the territory of illegal warlords and smuggling groups.

Even—there are nests inhabited by alien species.

These people are like a walking database for Aina. If they are unwilling to cooperate while they are alive, then after they die, whether the things in their minds can still be hidden or not will be up to them.

After repairing the damaged shell, I also brought a souvenir for the cat—the latter seemed to really like the gift. Aina looked to her side and saw that Hugh had replaced the goggles that were hanging around his neck with a pair that looked much more high-end than before, his eyes shining brightly.

"Grey Crafts!" Like a child who has received a new toy, the cat didn't care about the bloodstains on it. It took a while for the cat to calm down. It carefully took off the goggles, wiped them clean, folded them up, and put them back on its chest.

"And it's a custom-made one—wow, this is expensive! I've wanted it for a long time, but I've never been able to bring myself to buy it—"

After checking the functions of the new equipment, I discovered that the "wideband EMP function" that I had always dreamed of had also become a reality, and I was so happy that I was bubbling over.

Material desires are the most direct attack, and the cat suddenly felt that selling itself wasn't such a bad thing.

He's still just a child.

Hugh quickly forgot the terrifying atmosphere from before and enthusiastically explained to Aina, "Although it's a small, privately-run workshop, Gray Craftsmanship is synonymous with high-quality products. Their products require private pre-orders and are exclusively for special supply. Where did you find this—uh—"

However, he soon remembered the mysterious bloodstains on the eyepiece, and he shuddered inwardly, suddenly realizing that it was best not to ask about the origin of this thing.

"I'll take you to our contact person—" he said softly, his eyes slightly evasive. After all, he couldn't offer a corresponding reward at the moment, so he could only fulfill his promise. "But let's get this straight, Copper Moss isn't someone to be trifled with—although our contact is very special, someone like you with an unknown background would better act as harmless as possible."

"rest assured."

Aina felt that while she might not know or be able to do other things, the skill of "feigning weakness" that she inherited from her creator was top-notch.

Although it's not needed most of the time.

"Before that, I have some questions I'd like to ask."

Walking around was boring, so Aina took the opportunity to verify the new information she'd added to her head with Hugh: "Regarding copper, we are the largest and most professional 'housekeepers' in the bottom nest."

When mentioning his secret identity, Hugh's tone was unusually proud and confident. "Everyone knows that there are three types of people in the Underhive that you can't mess with. The first type is the Association's cleanup crew. They are officially recognized armed forces, and each one is an elite among elites. They possess—perhaps the mysterious power you mentioned." They form their own armies and fight on the front lines of the alien battlefield and the distortion phenomenon.

The second type is the High Craftsman of the Holy Gear Orthodox Church. Offending a High Craftsman is tantamount to relinquishing all connections, power, and status within the Underhive—any orthodoxy becomes irrelevant to them from then on.

He spoke loudly.

"The remaining one is copper moss, because we control the intermediary channels in almost all industries here, in every field—"

Our presence is felt—we are the best stewards of the hive, because even the three major agencies cannot keep track of every corner of the hive, but we can, so they also call us "..."

"Scavenger".

Hugh laughed, "A single cleaner might be weak, but we have a quality that other factions rarely possess—we are united enough. The biggest rule within Copper Slime is to prohibit internal strife. Every cleaner is like a brother or sister. Even if there are conflicts of interest, as long as the intermediary at the source is not corrupt, we can set aside disputes for the sake of respect."

"That sounds quite respectable."

After some thought, Aina finally chose the word "dignity." After all, in a place like the Bottom Nest, it was quite unusual for a giant family to still adhere to a superficial organizational form that followed "rules" and "doctrinal rules."

But this is only Hugh's side of the story—in the minds of the dead, copper moss is not a compliment. The leader Aina killed described the Scavengers as troublesome creatures that are as ubiquitous as "cockroaches" and "real mosses."

Hugh continued, "And that contact you're talking about," he added, "has a special name within the Copper Slime organization—at least we'd call him, the Godfather."

—It really is an underground gang family.

Aina felt that these settings suddenly added a cinematic quality—the Mafia and the Godfather, come on, this is really amazing!

Looking at the bird that had inexplicably started grinning like an idiot, Hugh was a little worried—this bird didn't seem like someone who would respect others at all, and had caused a lot of trouble as soon as it arrived at the bottom nest—if it weren't for the fact that she hadn't triggered the moonstone's rejection reaction and could speak human language—whether this bird was actually human inside was still an unanswered question.

The cat has seen too few examples of "ability users" so far, so he can only define Aina as a pioneer who is ahead of him and possesses power that he cannot understand for the time being—only with this reason can he soothe his wavering courage.

After all, one of his cornerstones, that troublesome father, this worthless bird had already seen once, and now, she shouldn't personally lead him to find his other cornerstone.

It's like bringing a dangerous element into your own base camp.

The cat sighed, its heart pounding loudly.

Now we can only trust that the experienced contact can handle this unreliable guy.

Hassen Zone, C771 District.

On the outskirts of Usa town.

The final destination was a small, unremarkable courtyard—the kind of ordinary winery you'd see in any village.

The small manor occupies a small area. In the flat front yard, about twenty or thirty black wooden barrels are neatly stacked. The outer ring is separated by a crooked fence. The iron railings have been blackened by the low temperature over the years, and they look as solid as if they were coated with steel billets, and do not look so fragile.

There were no guards at the entrance, only a wooden sign with the words "Prometheus Club" in small print.

—This is the location where Copper Moss is stationed in this area.

Without any obstruction or identity verification process, and with the iron gate initially half-open, the two slowly walked in after pushing open the rickety wooden door in front of the main building of the manor.

Surprisingly, the interior of this small estate was quite elegant, even remarkably secluded.

The lighting comes from orange oil lamps on the wall, and the light shining through the glass shade is not dim but rather quite bright. The winery is not spacious, but the furnishings are arranged in a very orderly manner, making people feel inexplicably comfortable.

The air was filled with a scent that smelled like lavender or some kind of aged spice—there was also a faint aroma of alcohol, seeping from the damp, wine-soaked black wooden barrels, adding a touch of intoxication even before you ventured deeper.

Aina looked around curiously. The winery's main hall seemed to be a small exhibition hall, with tall display cases placed against the walls. Through the old but not worn-out windows, she could see that most of the items inside were inconspicuous, scattered objects, such as bracelets made of glass beads, unrecognizable clay sculptures, teacups, and simple wooden puppets.

"Looks—not bad?"

These were all seemingly ordinary items, things that Aina wouldn't normally even bother to glance at. But in this mysterious winery, these little objects possessed an air of mystery, a hard-to-describe feeling of "Is anyone there?"

As if possessed, Aina called out to the inside, her voice echoing several times in the small space. A fish tank on the shelf next to her rippled, and a big-eyed goldfish inside seemed to be startled. It suddenly leaped out of the water, splashing a large puddle of water, and then crashed heavily to the ground, slapping its tail with a "splashing" sound.

Hugh was startled.

Before anyone could react, the screen a few steps away was pulled from the inside. As the curtain separating the front and back stages was lifted, an old man slowly came out to greet them, his leather shoes making no sound as they trod on the amber-colored wooden floor.

"welcome."

His voice was deep and calm, without the traditional aggressive sharpness of the Dichao accent. It was like an old-fashioned pipe organ, wrapped in a natural hoarseness, yet inexplicably able to make people relax.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry—"

He seemed to only notice the goldfish lying in the puddle when he reached the front desk. He sincerely apologized, then jogged to reach Aina, squatted down, and picked up the goldfish with his withered, aged hands. He stood up, clasped his hands together, and gently placed it back into the fish tank.

"I'm so sorry to have startled you. Please take anything from the items in the lobby as compensation—"

The old man in front of me was dressed in a gray stiff jacket and high leather boots, his attire serious and solemn, yet his kind face added a touch of warmth to his appearance.

"Hello, I'm the butler here. Don't worry about what I call you, just call me Butler." He smiled, then said slowly, "Please make yourself at home here, don't be shy—"

Such a mysterious old man was right in front of her, but Aina wasn't listening to this man who called himself "the housekeeper" at all.

The person, after a series of words.

—She was already drawn to that "perception".

This mysterious perception seems to have a source—

Aina's gaze wandered back and forth across the space, finally settling on a row of taller cabinets in the depths—these wooden bookshelves, their wood already yellowed, were crammed with books of all sizes.

She unconsciously stepped inside.

—This feeling is————

Just as Aina was slightly distracted, a soft voice came from the dim corner.

"Guest, please understand that we cannot go inside without permission. After all, wine is a very delicate product, and even a slight difference in airflow can make a difference."

Aina glanced at that corner, her eyes narrowing slightly.

It was a petite figure, sitting quietly behind the counter, seemingly so thin and light that her presence was completely hidden.

The bird tilted its head.

A very young girl—

Wearing a light gray long coat and shawl, she was dressed quite heavily, but this did not diminish her charm in the slightest. Strands of pure white hair fell from the edge of her high ponytail, subtly revealing a special, clear temperament, like ice or snow, with only half of her face in shadow showing.

Don't ask why I can tell she's not that old. It's just the attraction between bad women, that's what Aina guessed.

"Who are you?"

She spoke, unable to contain her excitement.

The other person responded softly.

"The person in charge here, you can call me—White Rabbit."

The girl smiled, and the expression that shone through the dim light was an infinitely "wonderful" one—sweet and charming, yet filled with an indescribable feeling—tranquil, gentle, and melodious, like the flickering flame at dusk, the setting sun slowly extinguishing its last rays in a sorrowful lingering echo.

But at that moment, the gun she slowly raised ruined the scene.

In her small hand was a gun that was too "bulky" for her; its black paint stood out starkly against her pale white hands.

"Hugh, I told you, we're not accepting outsiders here anymore—"

The girl in front of him raised her head slightly, and a strand of pure white hair fell from the gap in her hat, hanging down to one side of her cheek, which made her skin look almost transparently white.

Now, she unconsciously tilted her head, her posture like that of a lazy cat, her bright red eyes half-closed as she stared at Aina, seemingly waiting for their next explanation.

"Lady White Rabbit!" Hugh exclaimed urgently.

"Dear Godmother—please hear me out, she is a gifted individual I discovered by chance, and she wants to join us—"

"No—" In the next instant, Aina interrupted Hugh. She looked at the white rabbit, her golden-red eyes like a blazing light, as if trying to pierce through the face under the long-brimmed hat.

"Something familiar flows within your soul."

Aina murmured, almost to herself, but with absolute certainty, "You've touched a chilling light, gray—a color of indifference coiled around your head. Interesting! Very interesting—"

""

Her gaze swept behind the white rabbit, and Aina had now confirmed her earlier guess.

On those towering bookshelves that lined the entire wall, those books—if not all, then ninety percent—

They are all [secretly transmitted].

"So it was all here."

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