musicians of old

The Meaning of Chapter 863, "The Slaughter of the Ox"
More radical, more dangerous.
But is there a "backup plan" to address the root cause?
Fanning's gaze grew increasingly sinister.

But a tremor ran through his heart.

If everything could still be salvaged, those who died, those things destroyed, the scenes that vanished like a dream, the music that no longer plays, the grand ambitions that were not yet fully realized, the old places, the old people, the old objects.
Whether it's the old industrial world that housed six symphonies, the Turner Theatres, or the various regrets and obsessions across countless layers of time and space...
“Master Fan Ning, at my level, I’ve said everything I know, everything I can say, and even everything I can reasonably ‘guess’ about,” Laxus said in a hoarse voice.

Fanning has always felt that certain facial features or micro-expressions of this old fox have a talent for being used as material for "satirical cartoons".

This is also true at this very moment.

Fan Ning saw through the other party's so-called "frank" tone at a glance, but had to admit that the other party's performance in "fulfilling the obligation to inform" was impeccable.

Some subtle "boundaries of responsibility" that are difficult to define were also turned into a multiple-choice question with a second option by this person, and thus handed over to Fanning.

“Even if everything is hard to believe, we must at least believe in eternal interests.” Lasus sighed in a low voice. “Master Fanning, the current situation is the lowest point for our interests. I think that whether a ‘new world’ is truly established or we simply return to the ‘old world’, the leaders would be happy to see it happen, because the order will certainly be better than it is now; Master Fanning also has some hope, because no matter whether the temple of art exists in the future, at least it doesn’t exist here now.”

Fanning finally smiled and nodded repeatedly: "Laszlo, although some of your thoughts seem ridiculous to me, I have to admit..."

"If the first few investigators and inspectors I dealt with had been three-tenths as competent as you, perhaps my impression of your department would have been slightly better than it is now due to the 'first impression'."

He mockingly gestured a one-centimeter distance with his thumb and forefinger.

He then picked up the "Night Watchman's Lamp" hanging from his waist.

Today, the lamp cavity of this ritual object has changed from its former clear gold to a dark gold, and it is covered with cracks, completely losing its function of "secret illumination".

But as Fan Ning let go, it hovered in mid-air, and all the remaining light around it was sucked away, including the blue-green gas lamp in the secret room, as well as the outside light that was forcibly drawn in from between the bricks of the surrounding walls!
"Why is it all black!?"

"Equipment malfunction? Or an attack?"

"Quickly, quickly find out what's going on!"

From the outside world above the steps, faint sounds of panic and commotion could be heard!

The state of this lamp has clearly become dangerous and unstable, and even the surrounding space has begun to distort and shake!
“Master Fan Ning, what’s wrong with you?” Laxus’s expression changed.

“I’m giving you a ‘power outage’ for a bit, tell the people upstairs not to rush.” After doing this, Fan Ning picked up the envelope again and looked up to add a reminder, “Oh, right, this ‘Night Watchman’s Lamp’ has been acting up since the world ended. It can’t hold onto the light and spiritual energy very well, so don’t touch it, or it might explode.”

Lasu's heart started pounding again. Unlike before when he "knew the threat but couldn't control himself," this time he was genuinely terrified. He began to curse the other party in his heart as a crazy idiot who was just giving up!

As he expected, Fanning probably wouldn't open the letter and choose that damn "conservative treatment plan." He would still try to contact Pogreridge!
But right now, it means that if something goes wrong, the entire "central control area" will be dragged down with it!
Fanning's expression turned serious again as he held the envelope in his hand.

He only needed a little intuition to decipher the secret information contained in the witness symbols and grasped the key descriptive terms.

“We beg the ‘Director’, the silent tyranny, the predetermined course.”

"The leader of the highest military force, the cornerstone of suppressing upheavals, the god who ascends to the throne against rebellion, and the god who tolerates no disobedience."

It should undoubtedly be expressed by combining phrases with these specific metaphorical meanings.

The change occurred very quickly as the prayer was recited.

"Clang clang clang clang!"

In an instant, the sound of swords slicing through the air filled the air. Nearby walls, steps, lampshades, door valves, and even Lasus himself were cut with countless straight and clean gashes.

"Crack!"

With a final, crisp cracking sound, the entire surface of the space peeled away like shattered glass, revealing the "layers" inside.

A long, narrow but spacious secret meeting room with closed curtains, a clean floor, ample lighting, and neatly arranged bookshelves.

A giant round table and seven chairs are placed in the center.

It was a scene straight out of the "Discussion Group Roundtable Meeting" that Fanning had once attended. "Since you're here, find a place to sit down," a calm, indifferent male voice, almost devoid of human emotion, rang out.

The sound came from the direction of the main seat. Fanning could vaguely see Pogrerich sitting there in a denim double-breasted suit, with a huge dark blue banner of "Round Table and Knife" hanging high behind him.

It is only "vague," and in reality, it gives people a very elusive feeling, including the entire environment.

Logically speaking, a conference table with only seven seats should be a very narrow and high level if there is a hierarchy of deliberations.

The room has no difference in floor level, and the seating and furnishings are all the same. Apart from facing the curtains and having a flag hanging in the main seat, there is no other design that overly emphasizes authority or hierarchical differences.

But upon hearing the speaker's remarks and seeing the person in the main seat, one would definitely have the illusion that they were not in a simple small conference room at all, but in a huge tiered venue with varying heights, with serious and silent attendees of different levels sitting in front of them!

Each higher tier of seats represents a superior who is difficult to surpass in one's lifetime, someone who can decide one's life and death. Each tier has countless complex and interconnected control regulations over the next. At the very front and highest point, there is a row of chairpersons with supreme authority. The decree of that voice comes from the being in the very center seat, looking down from above!

Fanning stood still for more than five seconds.

“I’ve already smashed those ‘mirrors’ at the underground altar in front of Laxus. There’s no need for any more useless things.” This was the first thing he said.

“If there’s anything I need to explain, I can explain it now. I’m still in a state of lingering curiosity. Logically speaking, facing an ‘evil god’ like this would be ‘quite advantageous’ for corruption to take advantage of my vulnerability, hehe.” Fan Ning said as he sat down in the seat opposite the main seat.

“I am aware of what happened in the ‘controlled zone’,” Pogrelic said casually.

"It's not exactly rebellion, and we allow it to happen. The purpose of analyzing the shape of the Southern Dream is mainly to 'coordinate' or 'summarize' a kind of order, not to be a conspiracy theory. Our department has always acted with integrity."

"Organization or summarization of order?" Fan Ning frowned.

The words of the Lord of Witnesses are indeed profound and difficult to understand.

“There is order within the ‘sanctuary’ of the Southern Projection, just as there is order within the ‘controlled zone’ of the Special Patrol Bureau,” Pogrerich said.

“A qualified municipal official is always good at combining similar achievements to form a report that accurately reflects his own strategies and accomplishments. If there are regulations to combat smuggling crimes and regulations to strictly manage tax collection, then the combined provisions will have stronger control. Therefore, the Southern Projection 'Shelter' and the Special Patrol Bureau's 'Control Zone' have the potential to work together to combat chaos. Other individual 'Shelters' also exist, but their achievements are too small to warrant a place in the 'performance report'.”

“You understand now.” Fan Ning nodded in agreement with a half-smile. “Work achievements belong to you, me, and him, but ultimately, they belong to your superior.”

It turns out that my own position was not high enough, and my vision was limited.

As the spokesperson for the "Director," the Special Inspection Office no longer resorts to the simple tactic of "coveting the physical object" when dealing with things like the South China Projection; instead, it aims to "analyze and summarize them thoroughly."

From this perspective, Pogrelic's understanding or presentation of the "Ashes" principle has indeed reached a new level after he was promoted to the House of Residence.

"So this isn't the method the 'Director' is planning to tell us? — To pull together those seven or eight, or even dozens of poor 'large control zones,' and then call on this even more pitiful 'grand history projection' in my hand, so that everyone can work together and try their best to solve that thing above our heads?"

"Hiss," Fan Ning said, his mocking expression turning into one of serious contemplation. "But you know what, if things were to end here, I would believe it."

"I truly believe it."

"After all, the 'Director' holds the highest military power and authority. He might actually use some means to take down that 'moon' or help put that 'sun' back up."

“However,” Fan Ning said, straightening up with his arms folded, “the biggest problem isn’t here, as you and I both know, 'Director'.”

"Is the true meaning of 'The Slaughter of an Ox' what I think it is?"

“You’re right,” Pogrelic, sitting in the main seat, nodded in response.

Yes, once you have the answer and work backwards from the process, some things that were originally obscure become extremely clear.

Even the existence of a witness-king has given an affirmative answer.

Mithra's "Slaughtering a Bull" is a work passed down from the 0th historical period.
The painting "The Slaughter of an Ox," which has baffled various organizations throughout history, depicts a human figure surrounded by various elements, wielding a blade to stab an ox in the neck.
It is also the divine message left by the so-called "Unfading Fire".
It's actually a metaphor—using various "grids" to destroy the "gathering point"!