Volume 2

Chapter 13: The Serpent’s Perfect Partner

What kind of person was Mingfuluo Zege?

To the outside world, she was a paranoid, self-centered lunatic, an arrogant and discourteous genius, a cold and indifferent machine.

But in Anselm’s eyes, Mingfuluo or rather the current Mingfuluo, possessed a kind of divine quality that was not divine.

She was not without emotions, but she could cast them aside at any necessary moment, unaffected.

Just as she had done earlier, Mingfuluo did not disregard life; as she herself said, she had a very clear understanding of the weight of life, yet she could still utter such cold and cruel words.

Simply because it was meaningless.

The scholars of Babel Tower were not all indecisive or overly cautious, but what made humans human was their emotions, which were always beyond control.

Just as Hitana had briefly shattered fate, just as Anselm had been captivated by his own prisoner.

But in Anselm’s eyes, Mingfuluo was a true monster and “deity,” capable of perfectly controlling all her thoughts and emotions.

The method he used in Chishuang Territory to resist fate was, to a large extent, borrowed from Mingfuluo.

Because even before attempting to tame Mingfuluo, Anselm had already had similar ideas but could never find a way to realize them.

It was only after extensive observation of Mingfuluo that Anselm truly found his own method to confront fate.

However, it was clear now that his method was not comprehensive enough, because the pressure Mingfuluo endured could not compare to the pressure Anselm faced.

At most, she would become absolutely ruthless through relentless rational analysis, but Anselm would be completely obliterated under the crushing weight of fate.

Nevertheless, it was undeniable that Mingfuluo possessed an ability in rational thinking that was no less than Anselm’s, and all her rationality served only one purpose—realizing her ideals.

This was also why Anselm had failed three years ago.

Because back then, he believed he had displayed talent and charm enough to win Mingfuluo over, believed she would place her ideals beneath him, believed…

Believed that he had built a deep enough bond with her—not of love, but of the shared longing between seekers of the same ideal.

Later, Anselm realized the reason for his failure: at this stage, Mingfuluo Zege would disregard or even oppose anything that stood in the way of her ideals and achievements, no matter the talent, the relationship, or the emotions.

Fate’s way of making her a hero was to let Babel Tower collapse and be destroyed, forcing her into exile, to rediscover her humanity in the vast mortal world and understand what her ideals truly meant.

And ultimately, to forge an unparalleled, magnificent era with her own hands.

That was Mingfuluo, a paranoid whose flaws were the complete opposite of Hitana’s, whose intelligence and rationality had themselves become a “flaw,” not yet a hero.

At this moment, she stared at Anselm for a full three seconds, then tried to brush past him without a word, and then—

"Duang~"

Mingfuluo had made certain modifications to this puppet body, reducing its height for various reasons, so now she collided headfirst into the tall, firm, and surprisingly soft object that suddenly appeared before her.

"Have some manners."

Hitana, blocking Mingfuluo’s path, bared her teeth slightly: "Anselm came to see you, and you didn't even greet him before trying to leave?"

The commotion at the door drew the attention of the Babel Tower higher-ups in the office.

Hendrik immediately noticed Anselm, clad in a steady black-and-gold-trimmed long coat, and hurriedly stepped forward.

"Anselm, Your Excellency! We were unaware of your visit to Babel Tower. Our deepest apologies for not welcoming you…"

Anselm looked at the man before him, whose expression betrayed slight exhaustion but who still strove to appear respectful, a playful glint hidden in his eyes that Hendrik could not detect.

Years of toil and careful maneuvering… He had to cautiously handle the endless threats from the Ether Academy while serving the unpredictable Ivora.

A fifth-tier sorcerer, a figure at the pinnacle of the extraordinary realm, someone who could live a life of utmost perfection anywhere, had been reduced to this sorry state of an inadequate politician.

Aside from the faint air of accumulated refinement, where was the scholar in him?

Hendrik Lundell, you are truly… pitiful.

"There’s no need to be so nervous." Saying something entirely contrary to his thoughts, Anselm’s smile was as warm as a spring breeze.

"I’ve read many of your works, Mr. Lundell. ‘On Material Elements,’ ‘Further Possibilities for the Sixth Stage of Celestial Path Ascension’…"

"…Anselm, Your Excellency."

Hendrik, who had been oppressed by Ivora’s suffocating fury and wounded by Mingfuluo’s cold, cruel words, felt a surge of complex, indescribable emotions.

Respect and recognition were not lacking in Hendrik’s life.

But he, who was treated as a tool or even a servant by the Grand Princess Ivora, could hardly believe he would receive such acknowledgment from someone of her stature.

Especially as a top scholar, he knew better than most in the world just how terrifying the so-called “divine species” were, and how… inconceivable it was for someone like Anselm to appear among those monsters.

"I’m deeply… grateful for your recognition, Anselm, Your Excellency."

Hendrik took a deep breath, his expression becoming more natural and gentle: "To receive your acknowledgment is something worth celebrating."

"But now is not the time for celebration, is it." Anselm raised an eyebrow slightly. "Ivora must have told you the bad news."

Hendrik’s expression froze for a moment before he gave a bitter smile: "It seems you already know."

"Of course." Anselm replied naturally. "Because this matter started because of me."

Everyone except Mingfuluo, who was blocked by Hitana, froze in shock.

"It was my suggestion to have the Ether Academy compete against you."

The young Hydra, renowned throughout the Imperial Capital and the entire Empire, said candidly: "Because I am genuinely curious about that alchemical weapon called Mechanized armor, and at this level, I believe only the scholars of Babel Tower can stand against the Ether Academy."

"We are not an armory producing weapons, Hydra. Understand that."

Unable to leave, Mingfuluo turned to face Anselm, who had just tried to subtly undermine Babel Tower’s purpose with seemingly gentle words. Expressionlessly, she tore through the venomous snake’s facade.

—Mingfuluo’s abnormality was evident here.

Her disrespectful attitude toward Anselm was entirely different from Hitana’s.

The latter stemmed from blind shortsightedness and a poor personality, but the former… was because she had once deeply understood Anselm and still did.

She knew Anselm didn’t care about her attitude toward him and even enjoyed sparring with her in words and thoughts.

So Mingfuluo never hid her current disdain for Anselm, except on certain specific occasions.

At its core, Mingfuluo knew better than anyone that her attitude wouldn’t provoke any threat from Anselm.

Otherwise, she would adopt the same restrained demeanor she used with Ivora.

In a sense, this was a form of bullying the weak and fearing the strong, so it was no surprise she was disliked.

Still, her “disrespect” remained within certain boundaries, far better than Hitana, who once wanted to beat Anselm to the ground at every turn.

"Miss Zege." Hendrik’s gaze sharpened, his tone losing its usual warmth as an elder. "Show respect to Anselm, Your Excellency!"

"No, no… there’s no need for that."

Anselm smiled, unbothered: "I was out of line earlier, comparing you scholars to creators of violence. That was indeed impolite."

"I believe none of you intended to create weapons, for I know Her Highness’s disposition well."

The young Hydra sighed: "You… likely had no choice."

His words seemed to voice the unspoken grievances of most of Babel Tower’s higher-ups.

Some scholars were bound by conscience and morality, others didn’t want their paths constrained by such mundane matters.

Regardless of their thoughts, they shared one thing—no one wanted to endlessly develop alchemical weapons, wasting their wisdom and time on such meaningless endeavors.

Mingfuluo remained silent at this moment.

She could have exposed Hydra’s lies—such as how the concept of Mechanized armor originated entirely from him, or that he didn’t care about Babel Tower’s fate—because Anselm’s visit surely carried a hidden agenda.

In theory, the best course would be to undermine his position as quickly as possible.

But the moment Anselm stepped into the office and spoke his first words to Hendrik, the rhythm of the conversation and the direction of every word had already been seized by this devil.

No matter how much she said, it would only earn her more criticism or even anger from Hendrik. Of course, her silence wasn’t for that reason; she simply realized… there was no point in doing so.

Thus, Mingfuluo began to think, to dissect the expressions and words of that betrayer, that venomous snake, searching for the answers she needed in the threads of information.

"Then… Anselm, Your Excellency, if your purpose in proposing a contest between us and the Ether Academy was curiosity about Mechanized armor—"

Hendrik chose his words carefully: "Then your visit to Babel Tower now is for…"

Though Babel Tower was almost entirely composed of scholars, the term “scholar” didn’t mean rigid, inflexible, or ignorant of human affairs.

While Hendrik’s emotions stirred at Anselm’s words, that was as far as it went.

These scholars, though slightly moved by Anselm’s words, wouldn’t immediately bow to him.

Not only Mingfuluo but others among them also vaguely sensed that Anselm came with hidden intentions, though… only Mingfuluo believed it was a conspiracy.

They looked at Anselm cautiously, yet with a trace of unspoken anticipation.

"Because I think you need help."

Facing the scholars’ gazes, Anselm said without hesitation: "To be honest, if it were just a fair competition between the Ether Academy and you, I wouldn’t interfere. But now… I don’t know if you’re aware, but the Ether Academy has the full support of Her Majesty. The resources they can access are beyond your imagination."

"Her Majesty’s full support?!"

Someone in the office gasped aloud, but no one paid attention to his lapse, as most were struggling to maintain their own composure.

From Ivora’s anxious and furious demeanor, some had already guessed they were up against a crushing combination of the Ether Academy and the Empress.

But even so, they thought the Empress was merely backing the Ether Academy, not seriously mobilizing resources to oppose the Grand Princess… After all, how could the dignified Empress stoop to such pettiness?

So they had first argued about the war, not yet fearing their opponent.

But now, Anselm was saying the Ether Academy had the Empress’s full support?

The great being who held the Empire in her grasp was earnest… no, ruthlessly clashing with her own daughter?

How could such a thing happen?

"At the court assembly, Her Highness’s provocations toward Her Majesty went too far."

As everyone panicked, Anselm’s voice came at just the right moment, as if to resolve their doubts: "I arrived a step too late. Though I tried to meditate, I couldn’t fully prevent it. That’s also… another reason I proposed this contest."

The benevolent and tolerant young Hydra scanned the pitiful scholars, saying regretfully: "At the very least, this gives you, who are seen as the Grand Princess’s subordinates, a chance to compete, however slim."

By now, Anselm had made everything clear.

Ivora had clashed fiercely with the Empress at the court assembly.

As the absolute ruler of the Empire, now growing increasingly erratic and narrow-minded, the Empress, in a fit of rage, could very well destroy the forces Ivora had built.

It wasn’t impossible—after all, in Anselm’s account, she had mobilized all resources to crush her own daughter.

As the most prominent force under Ivora, rivaling a behemoth like the Ether Academy, Babel Tower would undoubtedly bear the brunt if the Empress’s fury reached its peak.

But thanks to Anselm’s mediation, the situation had slightly improved, and as he said, they now had a chance, however slim, to “compete.”

The office fell into dead silence.

After learning the full context, every scholar’s heart sank to rock bottom.

Not only did they have to face the grim reality of their powerful weapons slaughtering countless lives, but now they had to continue this morally reprehensible and utterly meaningless task, knowing they had no chance of winning.

If there was any reason they hadn’t completely despaired, it was only because—

"I’m sorry."

The young Hydra, who arrived at the office door right after the Grand Princess’s departure, said apologetically: "I didn’t expect Her Majesty to change my original proposal of a death row duel into a large-scale war between two territories. Nor did I expect Her Majesty to be so… serious about the Grand Princess."

He shook his head helplessly: "This matter started because of me and has spiraled into something I can no longer control, so I feel I must do something."

"No, Anselm, Your Excellency."

Hendrik immediately responded: "How could this be your fault! It’s only natural for you to be curious about the strength of the alchemical weapons made by the Ether Academy. If it had only been a test with death row prisoners, we wouldn’t have any qualms. This is all…"

He opened his mouth, then fell silent.

Who was to blame?

Who else but that equally tyrannical, cruel, and even mad mother and daughter—the Grand Princess who treated them as tools, and the narrow-minded, incompetent Empress?

But no one dared to say a word.

They could only curse those two monsters in their hearts, again and again, without anyone blaming Anselm, even though this matter had indeed started entirely because of him.

Curious about Mechanized armor?

Wasn’t that perfectly normal?

The Empress and the Grand Princess were so willful, yet Anselm, Your Excellency, merely wanted to test the alchemical weapons with death row prisoners.

How restrained that was!

He was even considering helping us!

The Grand Princess angered Her Majesty, and she herself might escape unscathed, but who could guarantee what a furious Empress might do in her rage?

What she’s doing now is already insane enough!

No one blamed Anselm.

These scholars, though brilliant, lacked political acumen and could not see through the layers of woven… fabricated truth.

Because they had no way to cast their gaze upon that grand hall, nor could they obtain reliable news or intelligence from others, the pieces they pieced together would only align with the “facts” Anselm presented.

Even Mingfuluo couldn’t discern how much truth or falsehood lay in Anselm’s words, but she keenly sensed… Anselm was deliberately stoking hatred.

Hatred toward the Empress, toward the Grand Princess.

Undoubtedly, Mingfuluo also deeply despised these two mad women, but as someone Anselm saw as possessing a non-divine divinity, she could extinguish such emotions entirely when observing coldly, remaining unaffected.

And so, she noticed the emotions Anselm’s words were inciting—directing all conflict toward the Empress and the Grand Princess… Though this was true, Mingfuluo absolutely did not believe that he, the instigator, wasn’t doing it deliberately.

Curiosity about Mechanized armor’s effects seemed normal to others, as Hydra had the right to such whims, or rather, his restrained whims made people feel at ease and more likely to trust him… but how could Mingfuluo believe such nonsense?

Was there anyone in this world who understood Mechanized armor better than he did?

Moreover, Hydra didn’t choose any other excuse.

He knew full well I could easily see through this pretext, yet he still chose it.

Was this a provocation or another trap?

While Mingfuluo treaded carefully, analyzing Anselm’s words and actions as if on thin ice, Anselm laughed with ease: “I’m relieved you don’t resent me. Honestly, I truly don’t want scholars like you, who represent the new Ether Theory, to be buried in obscurity… You are all capable of creating a new era, so I don’t want you to lose in this contest.”

If his initial candor and kind words had only slightly moved the scholars, now, compared to Ivora and the Empress, and with his loftier recognition, many scholars felt genuinely touched.

“However, please keep this matter confidential.”

Anselm said softly: “For now, I cannot openly take sides between Her Majesty and the Grand Princess. I hope you understand.”

Hendrik nodded repeatedly: “Your willingness to help us is already an immense favor… How could we possibly hold any resentment toward you!”

Not only was he helping us, but even now… he was considering the Empire’s stability.

Anselm, Your Excellency… he truly was the perfect Hydra.

If only the Grand Princess were like him, how bright the Empire’s future could be.

If it were Anselm, Your Excellency, leading us—not only could he stand against the Ether Academy with vast resources and the great Sage Flamel… If it were Anselm, Your Excellency, leading us instead of Her Highness, the Grand Princess…

Wouldn’t everything be different?

Hendrik thought this, and he was surely not the only one in the room thinking so.

The sole bystander remained silent, for she knew she could no longer change anything.

Having worked with these elders for years, some for over a decade, she knew all too well what they were thinking.

At the same time, she cast a deeply wary glance at the devil who, despite his gentle smile, seemed to dominate everyone.

In just a few sentences, he had elevated his status to this degree.

Not a status gained through violence or coercion, but one earnestly raised by others.

No… it wasn’t just this conversation, but from much earlier, far earlier…

From the moment he stepped into the noble circles, from when his reputation for benevolence began spreading through the Empire, playing the role of “perfection” flawlessly for years…

Mingfuluo gradually realized that Hydra didn’t possess some magic to instantly win people’s hearts, but had long ago prepared for every possible moment in the future.

This preparation was far more terrifying than any calculation or conspiracy.

What else had he prepared?

How many contingencies had he set?

How far into the future did his gaze extend?

Mingfuluo slowly clenched her fists, pressure crashing over her like layered tides, roaring toward her.

She wanted to stand unmoved and her will indeed remained unshaken, but reality did not allow her to stand firm.

“Miss Mingfuluo.”

Anselm’s gentle words interrupted her thoughts.

“…” Under everyone’s gaze, Mingfuluo was forced to meet Anselm’s eyes.

She stared into those sea-blue eyes she had seen countless times, searching for a hint of mockery or jest, but found none.

All she could see in those eyes was an unfathomable gentleness, a gentleness that chilled someone like her, who always sought the root of things.

[He is playing the perfect person right now.]

Mingfuluo told herself:

[So he must be the perfect person.]

Thus, she abandoned all sharp attacks, all razor-edged words and lowered her head to Anselm:

“What is it, Your Excellency Hydra?”

Hendrik breathed a sigh of relief.

Though Mingfuluo’s tone was still not respectful enough, he believed Anselm, Your Excellency, likely wouldn’t mind too much.

“You are the most celebrated genius sorcerer in the entire Imperial Capital.”

Anselm said with a smile: “I’ve learned about your concepts for firearms and floating cannons—truly remarkable.”

“…” Mingfuluo remained expressionless.

“I believe in the power of collective wisdom.”

The young Hydra glanced at the other scholars, somehow assuming a leader’s role without anyone noticing, his tone calm but forceful:

“But you all know better than I that alchemy and creation are the domains of genius. Rather than relying on so-called discussions to pile up results, it’s better to… actively seek opportunities for sparks of inspiration.”

He extended his hand to Mingfuluo, smiling brightly:

“I think, if you and I collaborate, we might… create something capable of defeating that unknown alchemical construct called Mechanized armor.”

“What do you think, Miss Mingfuluo?”

From the perspective of resolving the situation, there was no issue; from Babel Tower’s perspective, no issue; from her own perspective… Also, no issue.

The woman calmly extended her hand to Anselm: “You’re right, Your Excellency Hydra.”

Judgment, then choice—nothing more.

Though Mingfuluo knew Anselm must have come with a scheme, she had no choice but to swallow this honeyed poison.

Through the simplest rational analysis, followed by a decision.

The situation no longer allowed her to view things from the perspective of a chessboard, a player or a piece.

Babel Tower was on the brink of collapse.

If they failed, Babel Tower would become a glaring stain in Ivora’s ferocious life.

A stain’s only fate was to be erased.

But if it was Anselm… if it was Hydra, then there was a chance—no, a certainty.

Babel Tower could not possibly fail.

Because, though she hated to admit it, he and she were undoubtedly the world’s most perfect partners.

***

Time was precious.

Once Anselm decided to aid Babel Tower, he immediately threw himself into the research.

Using magic to alter his appearance, he, Mingfuluo and six other capable extraordinaries would reside long-term in Babel Tower’s finest alchemical workshop.

As for why they were joined by six merely “capable” extraordinaries instead of top-tier talents… the reason was simple: brilliant minds often struggled to reach consensus with one another.

But slightly less brilliant people, if they followed the instructions of a genius, could often get things done better.

“First, we need to clarify what exactly the Ether Academy’s so-called ‘Mechanized armor’ is.”

Before starting work, Anselm, now disguised as a middle-aged man, explained to the group: “To win, the best approach isn’t to create the strongest weapon, but one that perfectly counters the opponent’s.”

“But we don’t even know what that thing is,” someone couldn’t help but ask.

“The Alchemical Association recently built an enormous workshop, specifically for Mechanized armor.”

Anselm answered: “We can tentatively assume Mechanized armor is a massive alchemical weapon.”

“…Isn’t that just an alchemical fortress?”

An alchemical fortress, the ultimate symbol of an alchemist’s power.

Compared to it, the spell towers standing on the earth might seem majestic, but they were nothing.

“That’s not necessarily true.” Anselm raised an eyebrow slightly. “It might be something of even greater strategic value than an alchemical fortress.”

“That’s impossible! How could there be something more—”

“Shut up.”

Mingfuluo coldly interrupted the Babel Tower member, then turned to Anselm: “Stop wasting time. Tell me what to do, and we’ll start now.”

“…Miss Zege.”

Due to Mingfuluo’s notorious reputation, most at Babel Tower didn’t like her. Her outrageous interruption prompted the cut-off member to retort: “Even if you… and this anonymous gentleman are highly capable, shouldn’t you at least explain the overall concept? How are we supposed to start without clarity?”

“I don’t think you’d understand what he’s saying,” Mingfuluo said expressionlessly. “Just follow our instructions. That’s your job.”

…Utterly pointless work.

She thought to herself.

“Well… since Mingfuluo has said so.”

Anselm rubbed his chin: “Alright, let’s skip straight to the work phase.”

“For my concept, the most effective means of destruction…”

As Anselm began describing what he wanted to create, the six other Babel Tower members were stunned, then simultaneously showed incredulous expressions, as if they thought Anselm was spouting nonsense.

Because Anselm said—he wanted to create insects.

“Insects that devour ether circuits? That’s impossible.”

The Babel Tower members expressed their disbelief: “If ether circuits were so easy to destroy, would they even be called alchemical weapons?”

In most cases, destroying an ether circuit meant the alchemical weapon itself was already destroyed. If the weapon was ruined, why bother with such a roundabout approach?

“Well, that involves…”

“Stop talking.”

Mingfuluo walked straight to the workbench, saying without looking back: “I want to see a prototype close to the concept by today. Let’s start.”

The six Babel Tower members exchanged glances, while Anselm shrugged at them, chuckling: “Let’s get to work, then. I’ll guide you from the side.”

The alchemical workshop soon sprang to life, with rolling streams of ether manipulated by the alchemists.

In truth, the sorcerers assigned to assist Anselm and Mingfuluo were quite skilled.

In terms of combat ability, Mingfuluo likely couldn’t beat any of them, yet she dominated the research.

“To inscribe so many ether circuits on such a small piece of magic metal? That’s impossible! It’s too intricate, and it’ll cause the material to collapse!”

“It’s meant to collapse.” “Its purpose is to collapse.”

Two nearly identical statements rang out simultaneously.

Mingfuluo glanced at Anselm, only to find he wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing on teaching a Babel Tower member something she found utterly simple.

“This ether channeling is too difficult… Damn it! Another piece of magic metal wasted.”

“What’s the point of this design? Why give it such high assimilation?”

“Because it allows foreign ether to—” “Attempt to enter the ether circuit, and whether it succeeds or not, it will have an impact.”

Mingfuluo cut off… or rather preempted Anselm’s words, finishing the explanation herself while glancing at him again.

He still wasn’t looking at her.

“…”

Mingfuluo fell silent, focusing on the task at hand.

He’s doing it on purpose.

She told herself.

He deliberately had Hendrik assign these mediocrities to put me in this position.

He knows I’m the only one who can understand his concepts with the greatest speed and precision, while the others can’t even touch the depths of his thoughts.

Yet he brought in so many people, using the excuse of speeding up progress and improving efficiency… when in reality, he’s deliberately sidelining me, trying to provoke my anger and make me yield to him indirectly.

Once she identified the crux of the issue, Mingfuluo would not fall into the trap, as she could fully control her emotions and not be swayed by anger.

So she continued to pour her focus into realizing Anselm’s concept, listening to his descriptions of this new weapon…

“Autonomous functions… You mean installing the independent circuits of floating cannons too? That’s even more impossible! The ether circuits are already packed!”

“Wait, that makes it too easy to detect. So much ether concentrated in such a small piece of magic metal…”

“If we rely on small size and large numbers to win, they’ll be too easily destroyed. This is a battlefield—how could this approach work?”

Mingfuluo couldn’t focus on Anselm’s vision for the new weapon—because all she heard were endless questions.

Whenever Anselm spoke a few words, someone would fail to grasp part of the concept, forcing him to patiently explain.

Meanwhile, Mingfuluo could instantly deduce the answer and execute it better in her work.

But because Anselm kept wasting time on those people, she couldn’t delve deeper into the exploration.

“Uh, sir, do you think an older ether circuit would be more stable, or—”

“Enough!”

After the umpteenth question was raised, Mingfuluo’s icy voice reverberated through the alchemical workshop.

She turned, staring at the Babel Tower members, and said, word by word, without expression:

“All of you, leave. Now.”

Her words stunned the members, who had been gradually absorbing Anselm’s explanations. Before they could respond, her chilling voice rang out again:

“We’re racing against time to develop a weapon to counter the Ether Academy, not here to lecture you. You’re only slowing us down. Leave this workshop now. If you have complaints, take them to Hendrik.”

The assistants assigned by Hendrik all left.

Their resentful glares toward Mingfuluo were crystal clear in Anselm’s eyes.

The young Hydra looked at the silent woman by the workbench, dispelled his disguise, and said with interest: “You seemed pretty angry just now, Aluo.”

“…Is your boring game over?”

Mingfuluo didn’t look up: “If it’s done, tell me what to do next. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Yes, of course, to avoid wasting time.

“Wasting time? Then why not let me teach them properly?” Anselm raised an eyebrow. “I think that would clearly be more efficient. Or… are you eager to prove yourself to me?”

“Efficiency? You call that efficiency?”

By Mingfuluo’s simple calculations, compared to waiting for Anselm to explain everything clearly to those mediocrities, she alone, following his ideas step by step to turn the concept into reality, would be much faster.

“As for your earlier joke, I don’t find it funny.”

“No one fell for your pathetic, childish trap.” Mingfuluo expressionlessly reshaped the magic metal on the workbench.

“Because I’ve seen through your intentions. I’m not doing this to prove anything to you. It’s merely a compromise to ensure research progress.”

Her emotions didn’t waver, her tone showed no haste or strain.

Clearly, this was truly what she thought.

“…You’re really no fun, Aluo.”

Anselm said words he hadn’t spoken to Mingfuluo in a long time: “Haven’t you changed even a bit these past few years—”

“Listen, Hydra.”

Mingfuluo suddenly stopped her work.

She turned, walked toward Anselm, and said expressionlessly: “I don’t know what schemes you’re plotting, nor do I care what you’re calculating against me, or what dark, filthy thoughts you have about me.”

“Right now, Babel Tower faces its greatest danger. My only goal is to save it from those two lunatics. So, I only care about whether you can help me defeat the Ether Academy. Everything else is irrelevant.”

“So—”

The modified puppet body, now slightly shorter than Anselm, grabbed his collar.

Her purple eyes, behind gray-white glasses, glinted with a cold sharpness that contrasted starkly with the ambiguous gesture.

The extreme rationalist said, word by word:

“I won’t allow you to bring in any more mediocrities to waste this precious time. I don’t need so-called assistants who can’t even keep up with your thoughts.”

“The only person in this world who can perfectly realize your thoughts and ideas is me.”

Still gripping his collar, she pushed the young, handsome noble step by step, step by step, until he was against the wall, her body nearly pressed against his:

“So, from now on, I will allow you to focus only on me. Your thoughts will flow solely for me… If you can do that, any games you play afterward can go as you please.”

The woman released his collar, sneering: “Perhaps that’s your goal. Perhaps you returned to the Imperial Capital just to humiliate and toy with me.”

“But I don’t care. I only care if you can actually do this… Even if you conceived Mechanized armor, with the Empress’s support, the Ether Academy could create something even you can’t predict.”

“Well…”

Anselm gazed into her radiant purple eyes, gently adjusted his collar, and smiled: “Aluo, have I ever disappointed you in such matters?”

“…”

After a moment’s silence, Mingfuluo turned back to the workbench, her tone indifferent: “In terms of creation alone—”

“You are indeed perfect, Anselm. You’ve never disappointed me.”

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