Chapter 2: The Lunatic’s Rampage

In the lounge, the enraged Hitana and the leg-crossed Mingfuluo faced off.

But since this was Anselm’s home, Miss Wolf restrained her urge to grab Mingfuluo, hang her up, and beat her senseless, waiting irritably for Anselm’s reaction.

“Mingfuluo.”

Anselm’s cane lightly tapped the floor: “We have some history, but that doesn’t mean you can repeatedly provoke and insult Hitana.”

He stepped forward, his smile gentle but his sea-blue eyes surging with clear coldness:

“If you disrespect her again, you will pay a price.”

“…”

Mingfuluo’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Serious to this extent…” Her gaze shifted to Hitana, whose anger visibly lessened and the deliberate contempt and provocation on her face and in her eyes vanished instantly.

That provocative, malicious demeanor seemed like a nonexistent veil.

“Miss Lans.”

Mingfuluo uncrossed her legs, sitting straighter with a touch of seriousness.

“From the teleportation room until now, all my actions were just a small test. I hope you don’t mind.”

“If you do,” after dropping the fake contempt, her expressionless, icy face, paired with words ten times more self-centered than Hitana’s, was even more infuriating.

“Then keep minding.”

Hitana’s temples throbbed, unable to take it anymore, and she turned to Anselm:

“Anselm, can I beat her up?”

“Sure.” Anselm shrugged nonchalantly, “But this is just another alchemical puppet. Can’t you smell it?”

“…Huh?!”

Hitana sniffed sharply, staring incredulously at the Mingfuluo sitting on the sofa.

It indeed carried a similar scent to before… but how did it suddenly become so human-like?

“As far as I know.”

Anselm spoke leisurely, expertly pouring the liquor from the coffee table into a glass: “Miss Mingfuluo, who suffers from severe persecution paranoia, has prepared no fewer than twenty alchemical puppets. Only she knows where her real body is hiding.”

“That was three years ago.”

Mingfuluo adjusted her glasses: “As of now, my puppet count has increased to fifty-six.”

“And it’s not persecution paranoia.”

The woman looked up at Anselm, her voice cold:

“Hydra, do you know how many assassination attempts the Ether Academy launched against me after you left?”

Anselm, sipping the liquor, shrugged slightly with a light chuckle: “Enough to make you nearly triple your puppet capacity, hm… the severity is imaginable.”

Hitana, only half-understanding, was led by Anselm’s hand to sit beside him in a daze.

“So, Mingfuluo.”

The young Hydra set down his glass, smiling brightly: “What exactly made you so eager to find me?”

“…As expected of you.”

Mingfuluo removed her glasses, her deep purple eyes contrasting with her cold, ascetic appearance, exuding a subtle, captivating allure.

“You saw through that my reaction in the teleportation room was an act for the administrator, didn’t you?”

“It was obvious enough, but… given your usual behavior, acting that way, they’d likely believe it.”

Anselm leisurely stroked Hitana’s soft palm: “Three years apart, you’ve made some progress, Mingfuluo.”

Though our Miss Hitana had no clue what the two were talking about, she was delighted by the touch and didn’t bother thinking.

“Without progress, I’d have died at the hands of those old fossils from the Ether Academy long ago.”

She tossed the removed glasses onto the coffee table in front of Anselm, her seemingly magical purple eyes fixed on him:

“Hydra, this is my sincerity, and the price I’ll pay moving forward.”

“In exchange.”

The woman looked at Anselm, who was curiously examining the glasses, her tone softening slightly:

“I need your protection for a time, and—”

“Oh… you actually achieved systematic data?”

Anselm’s tone was quite surprising: “Though rudimentary and simple, it’s a significant leap.”

Mingfuluo’s brows furrowed slightly: “What are you talking about? You think I couldn’t replicate something like this with a clear approach?”

She wasn’t pleased by Anselm’s praise; on the contrary, a strong sense of dissatisfaction, even loathing, faintly stirred in her cold words.

But the icy woman suppressed that emotion almost instantly, continuing: “Since you acknowledge this, then I also need—”

“Hm, this little thing is indeed nice.”

Anselm placed the glasses on the coffee table, gently pushing them back to Mingfuluo, smiling brightly:

“But I refuse.”

“…”

Mingfuluo stared at the gray-white glasses pushed before her, then looked up, fixing her gaze on Anselm’s face.

Her slightly constricted purple pupils silently conveyed her incomprehension.

“Mingfuluo.”

The young Hydra wrapped his arm around the girl beside him, letting her lie across his lap, leisurely stroking her soft, tender cheek.

“You know my evaluation and attitude toward someone never consider meaningless courtesies or words, only absolute value.”

“So when you sought cooperation or even protection from me, you didn’t adopt a humble, deferential stance. Because I’m that kind of person, and so are you.”

“But you got one thing wrong, Mingfuluo.”

Anselm, head lowered, playfully pinched Hitana’s cheek and chin, his smile light.

The girl, though blushing, lay on his lap, letting him do as he pleased, enjoying it immensely.

He looked up, his tone casual: “You think you have bargaining chips that would make me respond, but in reality—”

Anselm tilted his head, saying nonchalantly:

“You no longer have any value in my eyes.”

Not contempt, nor indifference.

Just… utter disregard.

Under this disregard, Anselm lowered his head, continuing to play with Hitana while still speaking carelessly: “In the three years I was away from the Imperial Capital, I thought a lot and concluded…”

“Your ideals and talents are worthless to me.”

“Not to mention, I’ve already found something far more precious…”

The wicked Hydra whispered softly in Hitana’s ear: “Right, my dear Hitana?”

With her legs pressed together and body slightly curled, Hitana let out a comfortable, satisfied moan, murmuring as she nuzzled Anselm’s palm, her face red, flashing a smug, victorious smile at Mingfuluo:

“Anselm’s right… ooh! You, hmph… you’d better stay hiding in your rat hole, living through puppets forever.”

“Old hag!”

Crack—

The glasses Mingfuluo had just picked up were crushed in her hand.

“Anselm Hydra…”

Mingfuluo slowly stood, her gaze locked on Anselm, her immense anger almost materializing into flames, threatening to burn both Anselm and her own icy glacier.

“You—”

The woman’s mouth opened slightly, her lips trembling, but she seemed so enraged she didn’t know what to say.

“You’re… truly disappointing!”

She threw down those words, then stood and left the lounge, her oppressive aura making even the delighted Hitana feel uneasy.

Once the lounge door closed, Hitana squirmed on Anselm’s lap, huffing: “Anselm, Anselm, what’s with that woman? So weird and neurotic. Was she really faking her tantrum earlier? I didn’t think it looked fake at all.”

Anselm gently stroked Hitana’s hair, chuckling softly: “It was both an act and not. She indeed wanted the Ether Academy to think she sought me out in anger. But her fury back then wasn’t fake either. It’s just that, after I said that, she wouldn’t admit she was truly angry.”

The young Hydra tilted his head back, sighing softly with a hint of nostalgia:

“She’s… quite a troublesome one.”

Mingfuluo Zege.

A genius who disregarded everything, with herself as the absolute center.

A seeker of truth whose madness rivaled that of monstrous beasts.

A lunatic idealist, like Hitana, favored by fate.

***

Babel Tower, the vast research institute in the southern part of the Imperial Capital.

Though named a “tower,” Babel Tower’s architecture wasn’t a traditional sorcerer’s spire.

The complex consisted entirely of large, square buildings.

Founded to expand the scope of Ether Theory and enhance its practical applications, Babel Tower had, in just eight years, become the Empire’s second-largest academic and research institution, surpassed only by the Ether Academy.

With the support of the increasingly powerful Grand Princess Ivora, its influence grew ever more formidable, nearly overwhelming the Ether Academy in all but its core established fields.

Babel Tower’s more secular approach, producing not just theoretical research but substantial practical output, led to numerous collaborations with the Alchemical Association, prompting many nobles to offer goodwill for profit.

By the way, Anselm’s father, Flamel, held the title of honorary professor at Babel Tower.

Though the uncrowned king of alchemy, a great sage potentially capable of touching eternity, Flamel also held titles at the Ether Academy and many other academic organizations.

In a corner of this vast institute, at a depth of four hundred meters underground, lay a spacious area unknown to most of Babel Tower’s higher-ups.

“Hiss—”

With the sound of escaping gas, a pitch-black hatch slowly opened.

A hand covered in viscous fluid gripped the edge, slowly pulling a body from the chamber.

“Hydra…”

A hoarse, angry voice echoed in the dark underground space.

“Three years, just three years, and you’ve sunk into that hell of mediocrity?”

Mingfuluo stood from the chamber, light green viscous fluid dripping from her blue-gray bangs, falling back into the chamber’s full pool of solution.

“…No.”

She spoke softly, stepping out of the chamber, her usually lifeless, icy purple eyes showing no trace of confusion or hesitation. In that instant, she resolved one thing—

“With your talent and ambition, you’d never wallow in such a stagnant world.”

“What changed you? Was it… that foolish beast?”

Mingfuluo’s tone grew chillingly sharp, but in the same moment she thought of this, a spark of inspiration flashed through her mind.

“…It’s possible.”

Her emotions calmed, and she murmured: “It’s possible you did this deliberately, setting a trap I couldn’t face calmly.”

The genius sorceress exhaled softly, snapping her fingers.

The solution on her body flowed back into the chamber, leaving her instantly dry and clean.

“More likely, even.”

Mingfuluo mused to herself, her mood stabilizing.

She grabbed the gray-white glasses from beside the chamber, placing them on her nose and adjusting them lightly.

“Then I can’t fall for it so easily.”

She wasn’t smug about seeing through Anselm’s intentions; instead, she grew colder, more vigilant.

“Three years is enough for his danger to multiply several times… For now, I’ll use No. 17 instead of No. 35.”

She shook out her hip-length blue-gray hair, gathering it tightly.

Her fingers conjured a thin cord in a flicker of light, automatically tying her hair.

A faint sound stirred in the darkness, followed by footsteps gradually approaching, then fading.

In the pitch-black environment, Mingfuluo sat on a soft chair by the chamber, picking up a cup of unknown liquid from the table and taking a sip expressionlessly.

The next moment, six light screens appeared before her, each displaying intricate diagrams and… data.

“First.”

Miss Zege, whose style clashed with other sorcerers, swiped a hand across a screen, murmuring: “Build a model of that beast, the unprecedented one inheriting two Contract Head powers, hm?”

“Let’s see what you—”

Her expression froze instantly.

Because, four hundred meters above, in Babel Tower, the active puppet… received an unbelievable message.

Not long after she left, the Ether Academy visited Anselm.

Though she didn’t know what they discussed, a message came from the Ether Academy.

It arrived so swiftly, so abruptly, as if meant for someone specific.

The Empire’s prodigy, Lord Anselm Hydra, would visit the Ether Academy in three days.

“…”

Mingfuluo’s hand trembled slightly, shaking the cup.

Ether Academy.

The three words she loathed most in her life.

If there were a way to utterly destroy the Ether Academy, Mingfuluo would act without hesitation.

For her, aside from academic research, her daily thoughts revolved around how to ruin the Ether Academy.

And now, Anselm Hydra not only rejected her cooperation but sided with… the Ether Academy, which wanted to kill and destroy her?

He not only denied her worth but acknowledged the value of those corrupt, degenerate fossils?

Blazing anger obliterated all of Mingfuluo’s plans in an instant, as this had crossed her absolute bottom line.

“…”

In the gray-white lenses of her glasses, streams of light flickered.

The future Eye of Truth, the ascendant to the Celestial Path, the origin of mechanical sorcery, the pioneer of the new Ether era, Mingfuluo Zege murmured expressionlessly.

“Ether Academy, prepare yourself, and you… Hydra.”

“If you let your talent be destroyed in the hell of mediocrity.”

“Then I’ll uproot that hell entirely!”

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