Herrscher of Reason's Arknights

No, even the Joker robs banks, but he'll burn all the money he steals.

He makes evil his lifelong career and keeps fighting for it. His greatest pleasure is to completely destroy Batman, the other side of the coin that is completely opposite to himself.

But what about Coschick?

What exactly is he trying to do?

Forget it.

The woman, now known as Ina, waited in the back seat of the lander, having chosen to close her eyes and rest.

The car entered the central urban area. She rarely came here, partly because there was no need to attract attention, and partly because she didn't like it.

It's too noisy, with too many people and distractions, completely contrary to her aesthetic.

A person who longs for peace will not choose to settle in a noisy place.

After going around in circles, the assigned land vehicle finally stopped in front of a rather impressive-looking building.

"Little Wall Street" is a name given by people, but in reality, this street is just a central block. It is named "Little Wall Street" because it is full of banks and is the location of branch offices of major commercial groups.

Here, several buildings belong to the Swire Group, and the building in front of us is a seven-star hotel owned by the Swire Group.

It is also the only seven-star hotel in Longmen, which speaks volumes about its luxury.

But why here?

Sodium chloride thought it would go to the other party's residence.

Oh, and remember, always keep smiling.

This was a friendly reminder from Kosiché before she left.

Ina isn't actually a cold person, so the actress has to act like that.

so troublesome.

However, it's also a good opportunity to confirm whether this person, whom you're unlikely to see again, is the one you're looking for.

Not knowing your hand is the most advantageous bargaining chip in negotiations, because your opponent will never know what cards you actually hold, which makes it possible to play dumb and outmaneuver your opponent.

But this place is really luxurious.

It was so luxurious it couldn't be more extravagant.

The marble floor is as clean and shiny as a mirror, while countless gold leaves adorn the walls, highlighting world-famous paintings. A crystal chandelier hangs from the dome. Everything here exudes luxury, aiming to convey the taste and status of the place to customers from the very first step they take.

It conforms to, or it does not conform to.

It's very shiny, very luxurious, and very expensive.

Unfortunately, the taste isn't very good.

A person who prefers a peaceful life would not appreciate this kind of ostentatious display.

However, it also reveals the extent of the assets and power possessed by the owner of this place.

This is probably a manifestation of power and authority, just as dragons like to sleep soundly on top of treasures, and kings like to erect their own statues in the center of the city.

That's pretty much the point.

"Do you have an appointment?"

The receptionists were equally well-trained, greeting potential guests with the most standard smiles.

"I am Ina. Ina Kopovich Zogeeva. My appointment should be here."

As he spoke, he handed over an invitation wrapped in an exquisite envelope.

"Ah, please wait a moment."

The meaning of that envelope was self-evident; the receptionist no longer needed it. It was the front desk manager who said this, with a fawning smile. The manager then dialed an internal number and said something.

"Please follow me."

The hotel, owned by Swire Group, is the largest in Lungmen. Even getting to the elevator involves many twists and turns.

Cold light shone down from above. Sodium chloride remained silent, leaning quietly against the elevator car. The lobby manager who had guided her also had nothing to say. Naturally, the only sound in the not-so-narrow but completely enclosed metal space was the friction of the traction rope against the motor. The cold lights and constantly changing numbers gave one the immediate feeling that opening the door would unleash a horde of zombies.

Unfortunately, this isn't the set of Resident Evil.

A while has passed, why does the elevator take so long?

Sodium chloride didn't know how many floors the building had, but it was clear that it shouldn't have taken that long.

Until the electronic screen above the elevator doors stopped displaying floor numbers and started using letters instead.

This area is probably not accessible to normal customers.

With a "ding," the door opened, but the lobby manager did not go any further. Instead, an elderly man who looked like a butler appeared outside the door.

"You must be Dr. Ina. Sorry to keep you waiting. Please come with me."

Section 64, Chapter Sixty-Two: The Carrot and the Stick

Spells are a very profound art.

It requires talent, instruction, and money.

If ordinary people want to learn real Originium Arts, instead of releasing the energy contained in Originium by separating their fingers in the simplest, most brutal, and primitive way, then they can only try to enter an academy to learn some "common" spells.

The reason it's so ubiquitous isn't because it's perfunctory, but because it's very consistent.

It's like there are ten subjects, but ordinary people can only choose one from the first or second subject to study.

It's not that the remaining eight subjects require higher tuition fees or that further education is required before they can be studied.

It's not that no one taught them.

It's not that the skill has been lost; it's just that no one has taught it.

Magic is not a tool in the true sense, nor is it a form of learning or knowledge.

Rather, it's a secret, a synonym for mystery.

It lies between the possible and the unknowable, between thought and belief.

Every family that possesses this secret will pass down this magic in a rudimentary way, and will never reveal it to outsiders.

There are quite a few such families, but each one has its own unique characteristics.

Furthermore, their origins are untraceable; these things are so ancient that their roots cannot be traced back.

Such secrets, which are passed down within families and cannot be quantified or analyzed, cannot be included in books, let alone passed on to outsiders.

Therefore, the Warlock profession is quite valuable, not because it is mass-produced, but because, although expensive, it is not a combat Warlock that is hard to come by.

Instead, it is a magic system that specializes in a particular characteristic and can have functionality.

Therefore, doctors who are simply skilled practitioners are in high demand, and those who possess both the qualifications of a sorcerer and a physician are even more valuable.

No one would refuse to be treated by a doctor like that.

Even maintenance is worth the price, because there's just so little of it.

Normal people's Originium Arts are limited to controlling drones at most, while these people can search for thoughts. The difference is so great that it has become a monopoly of knowledge.

But there's nothing we can do about it, since this system is maintaining every corner of Terra.

It has even become an integral part of the local culture, inseparable from it.

This is probably one of the highest floors; normal people can't get here. The thick, hand-woven carpet makes you feel completely silent when you step on it.

This appears to be just a temporary residence, given that Swire Group's headquarters are in Victoria, and the owner of Swire Group is a prominent Victorian nobleman. Naturally, this could only be a temporary residence.

Even temporary accommodations are decorated so luxuriously, which reflects the class disparities on this land.

If the villages on the Ursus wasteland are like those in medieval Europe, then the city of Lungmen is like a cyberpunk city, with technology, but more so with a technological product covered in dust and the atmosphere of everyday life.

This place feels like stepping into the residence of an aristocrat in a steampunk world—luxurious, filled with classical taste, understated yet exuding an air of extravagance.

Pushing open a door, the old butler finally led her to the heart of the place.

A wooden door with a beast horn of unknown origin hanging at the very top.

It does have a bit of a hunter's cabin feel to it.

Perhaps this Victorian nobleman enjoyed hunting.

"Grandpa, the guests have arrived."

An elderly man was sitting upright in the middle.

He was dressed in a suit and tie, with a lightweight pen tucked into his breast pocket.

No, the word "old man" is actually not quite appropriate.

The silver hair is not a natural color, but rather a sign of aging that gradually loses its luster with the passage of time.

However, there was not a trace of old age in the old man's eyes.

Instead, it is sharp and still full of ambition.

The smile on his lips carried the innate arrogance and humility of Victorian aristocracy.

After all, they were nobles. Even if it was feigned humility, they wouldn't casually show a sense of rejection to strangers, let alone a successful businessman like him.

"Go ahead and get busy, Afu. Thank you for your help."

Ah Fu?

You're Batman??

Is it just a coincidence that they have the same name, or is it that all butlers in the world are named Ah Fu?

"Doctor, or should I call her Ms. Ina?"

He was searching for the right words to address the young woman before him, which was also a natural way to start the conversation, as being good at socializing was the first foundation of nobility.

"I'll be fine with Ina."

The doctor simply nodded coldly; she seemed to be a woman of few words.

That's good. Being taciturn always represents silence and restraint, which is how doctors and scholars should be.

"I remember...you..."

"Oh, sorry, I haven't mentioned my surname yet. My family is very low-key, so most people only know the Swire Group and not the family behind it."

If you don't mind, you can call me Semiol.

This is his first name, but his surname hasn't been revealed yet; it doesn't matter.

"Let's begin then. I recall that my main area of ​​expertise is psychological suggestion and self-anchoring. Have you been having questions about this lately?"

"Of course, of course, the doctor is really dedicated, but before that, I'd like to ask for the doctor's opinion."

My opinion?

Before even stating any issues, you're already offering your opinions?

Sodium chloride, however, is in no hurry. No one knows what this old fox is planning until it is revealed to outsiders.

As he spoke, the old man pulled a note from his pocket.

"How much can a senior, prestigious, and respected sorcerer who also works as a doctor earn in a month? If I remember correctly, around 200,000 Lungmen dollars a year, right?"

He didn't give Ina any chance to answer, or rather, he didn't want any answer at all; he simply posed the question, nothing more.

As he spoke, Semiol casually wrote a string of numbers on the note.

"Two million, ten years' salary. This is a bearer check from the bank. You can withdraw these two million Lungmen dollars from any bank. It's enough for you to buy land in your hometown and retire comfortably."

It is indeed for retirement. If one really had this amount of money, it would certainly be enough for an ordinary person to consider how to plan their life after achieving success.

Keep in mind that 200,000 is a sum only top-level doctors possess; in Longmen, such a figure is practically countable on two hands. For ordinary people, it might take a lifetime of hard work to accumulate such a large sum.

If Ina were really here, she'd probably be sweating and her vision would go black, since the surprise was just too sudden.

Sodium chloride, however, remained unmoved, staring at the check and then looking up at the seemingly kind face.

She roughly understood what the other party was up to.

This is a fishhook; it all depends on whether the doctor in front of him will bite it or not.

She came here for her own needs, so there's no reason for her not to take the bait.