Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 655 This is what you wanted

Diaz and Vivian exchanged a glance, both seeing seriousness in each other's eyes.

After a long silence, Diaz finally spoke:
"Little Eve, have you considered a possibility?"

"what?"

"The King of Absurdity..."

The old man's voice was very low, as if he was afraid of being overheard:
"They may have foreseen all of this long ago."

Eve was taken aback.

Immediately, her pupils contracted sharply.

Yes.

Who is the king of absurdity?

That being who can see through fate, manipulate cause and effect, and treat the entire era as a stage!
How could He not have foreseen the problems that awakening would bring?
How could I not know Reginald's personality?

How could I not have anticipated the challenges Eve would face?
"This is……"

Eve murmured, "A test, a test He gave me."

It all made sense.

Why did the King of Absurdity ask her to preside over the awakening, when this task could have been done by Himself or other great wizards?

Why is the order of awakening Diaz, who is very convinced of the King of Absurdity, first, then Aunt Vivian, who saw him when he was a child and had a good relationship with his mother, and finally the tough Reginald?

Why did He spend so much time teaching her mirror magic when she clearly didn't need such advanced techniques with her current strength...?

"He is teaching me to 'accept criticism'."

Eve closed her eyes:

"Learn to stay calm under pressure, learn to let your abilities speak for themselves rather than your status, learn..."

"To become a true patriarch."

When she opened her eyes again, the confusion in her amethyst eyes was gone.

"Grandpa Diaz, Aunt Vivian."

Eve turned to look at the two of them:

"I'll probably be even busier in the days to come."

"I will need your continued help to keep an eye on the ancestral land for me."

The private helipad of the Wang Guan clan.

Ron stood at the edge of the platform, watching Eve pack her things.

The black-haired princess had changed into a formal dress for the occasion, with a brooch pinned to her collar—the insignia of the School Alliance's "seat successor."

But even this gorgeous robe couldn't hide the weariness in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that."

Eve seemed to sense something and turned her head away: "I'm not a porcelain doll, I'm not that easy to break."

“I was just thinking.” Ron took a few steps closer and reached out to straighten her slightly crooked brooch:

"If the tower master knew how hard his daughter had been for the past twenty years, I wonder if he would regret going on that expedition without a second thought."

"My mother never regretted it."

Eve's emotions were a mixture of pride and sorrow:
"Even if she were still here, she might just throw me into the deep water and then stand on the shore to see if I sink or float."

"Now it seems..." she laughed self-deprecatingly, "At least I haven't sunk yet."

As she spoke, she took out a thick stack of documents from her storage ring:
"By the way, these are the cooperation proposals that I need to review."

In some projects where you're merely a figurehead, all you need to do is sign your name, and you'll receive a stable share of the profits every year.

Ron took the document and casually flipped through a few pages.

These are all common cooperation models:

A certain academy wants to establish a trading post in a newly developed alternate world; a certain clan wants to promote a new type of magic potion in its territory; and a certain guild wants to invite him to serve as an honorary advisor.
There was nothing wrong with these projects themselves, and the other party didn't really need him to do anything.

They just wanted to use his titles, such as "Dark Sun Wizard" and "Potion Professor," to increase the project's credibility.

In exchange, he receives a substantial share of the profits from these projects each year.

“I should have handled these myself,” Ron said apologetically. “The result was all piled on you.”

"What's wrong with that?" Eve smoothed a strand of hair from her forehead.
"Anyway, I have to deal with the affairs of the Crown Clan, so I'm just helping you filter these proposals."

Ron didn't reply.

He took a box out of his storage space and handed it to the other person.

Eve took the box with curiosity.

“A stabilizing charm,” Ron explained.

"A byproduct of my research on pollutant purification in the chaotic world of blood."

It can alleviate mental fatigue accumulated under high-pressure environments, and theoretically, it can significantly improve your rest efficiency.

He added, "In other words, you will only need to sleep two hours a day to get the same rest effect as four hours of normal sleep."

"So magical?"

Eve opened the box, inside lay a simple silver amulet.

As her fingers touched the amulet, a sense of tranquility spread from the point of contact.

All those lingering meeting agendas, thorny issues that needed to be addressed, pressure and doubts from all sides... were pushed far, far away at this moment.

“Mentor…” Eve didn’t say much, but simply stood on tiptoe and gently pecked his lips.

"I also have something to give you."

The black-haired princess took out a flat object wrapped in silk from her personal spatial ring.

The silk was dark gold, embroidered with eerie, twisted patterns in silver thread.

That is the mystical symbol of the King of Absurdity, representing the "eternal cycle of truth and falsehood".

Ron took the package and carefully untied the silk.

What comes into view is a silver mirror about the size of a palm.

When he stared at the mirror, the reflection he saw was completely upside down:

The reflection in the mirror showed him dressed in tattered beggar's clothes, his face covered in filth, his eyes empty and desperate, like a homeless person waiting to die on a street corner.

Eve, standing beside her, had transformed into a ruthless queen, draped in a blood-red robe, wearing a crown woven from bones, and clutching a still-dripping sword in her hand…

"This is……"

Ron frowned.

"A replica of 'The Mirror of Truth' that tells lies."

Eve explained:
Thirty years ago, you cured my 'Demon Devour'.

To express his gratitude, your great-grandfather is letting you choose treasures from the vault.

"I went with you back then, and thanks to you, I also got two items."

A glimmer of memory flashed in her amethyst eyes:

“At the time, I thought it was ‘junk,’ a mirror that would forever show an illusion, what use was it?”

"But then I discovered..."

Eve gave a mysterious smile:
"When you know that the mirror is lying, the illusion becomes a signpost to the truth."

Ron's heart skipped a beat.

He looked at the mirror again.

The "beggar" version of himself in the mirror was staring at him with empty eyes.

If that's an "illusion," then the truth is... his life is far more glamorous than it appears.

Or does that "beggar" represent some kind of repressed self-awareness deep within him?
As for Eve's "Bloody Queen" image...

“The first time I looked in this mirror,” Eve seemed to see through his confusion, “I only saw a middle-aged woman with a face full of resentment.”

"I was terrified at the time, thinking the mirror was predicting my future."

"I only realized later that it wasn't the 'future'; on the contrary, it was the 'thing I was most afraid of becoming'."

She reached out and touched the edge of the glasses frame:

"The 'illusions' reflected in a mirror often stem from the observer's deepest fears or desires."

"So when you see yourself as a beggar..."

Eve looked at Ron intently: "Perhaps it's because, subconsciously, you're afraid of losing everything you have now?"

"And my 'Bloody Queen' image."

She laughed self-deprecatingly:

"It's probably because I'm afraid I'll really become like my mother, who will stop at nothing to achieve her goals and abandon all warmth for power."

Ron remained silent.

He stared at the mirror again, and this time the image he saw had subtly changed.

The "beggar" version of himself reaches out his hand, seemingly begging something from the person outside the mirror;
The "Bloody Queen" beside him turned away, her back to him, her shoulders trembling slightly...

"My current best skill, 'Mirror Magic,' was developed by combining it with the original mirror."

Eve continued:

“Through the mirror, I learned how to ‘reverse reality’.”

Let the enemy see illusions, let illusions guide the truth, and create possibilities between reality and illusion.

"Now, I present this replica mirror to you, my mentor..."

She said with some anticipation, "Perhaps it will show you something more interesting."

Ron rewrapped the mirror and put it back into his storage space.

He could sense that the mirror's value was far more than what it appeared to be.

If, as Eve said, it can reflect the observer's "deepest fears or desires."

In a way, it is a key to unlock the shackles.

"It's almost time."

Eve glanced at the ladies' watch on her wrist.

"I have to go."

"Mentor, when...when can we meet again?"

This question left Ron speechless.

He wanted to say "soon," but they all knew it was a lie;

I want to say, "Wait until everyone else is done with this busy period," but when will I ever truly be "finished"?

In the end, he could only smile as usual and say, "Wait until I finish what I'm doing."

“Always ‘wait until it’s all done’,” Eve sighed softly.
"But I think that makes sense. If you really have a lot of free time, that would be abnormal."

She looked intently into Ron's eyes: "Mentor, have you ever thought about this?"

"What?"

“If you really want to,” Eve said calmly.
“Lilia, me, and Alan and Dal. Just say the word.”

Any one of us would drop everything without hesitation, come back to your side, and do nothing but stay with you.

"I"

“But is that really what you want?” Eve interrupted him:
"Do you really want to see us become mere appendages, dependent on you and without any value of our own?"

This question left Ron speechless.

"Lilia has built her own business in the Emerald Forest, and you are proud of her;"
I have taken up my mother's mantle and shouldered the future of the clan; you should be proud of me.
Even when your grandniece Airo showed special talent, your first thought was to give her the best education.

“So, mentor.” She reached out and gently stroked Ron’s cheek:
"You want to see each of us grow, become stronger, and shine in our respective fields."

We can all find our own value, instead of pinning our entire lives on you.

Ron looked at the black-haired princess in front of him and suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.

He always thought he had hidden it well, but the other party had already seen through everything.

I saw through his expectations, his contradictions, and even those thoughts deep in his heart that he himself was unaware of.

“You,” he reached out and pulled Eve into his arms, “are always so smart.”

“Of course.” Eve’s voice was a little muffled:
“I am your student and fiancée. If you can’t even see that, then you are a complete failure.”

The two embraced quietly for a while.

The people around them were very tactful and kept their distance, and no one made a sound to disturb them.

"Okay, I really have to go now."

Eve finally pushed him away, saying, "If we don't leave now, we'll really be late."

"Ah."

The black-haired princess turned and walked towards the aircraft's gangway.

This time she didn't look back and boarded the aircraft directly.

The roar of the engine gradually increased.

The space around the aircraft began to distort, forming a semi-transparent shield.

Then, in a blinding blue light, the entire aircraft transformed into a streak of light and soared into the sky, disappearing into the depths of the clouds in the blink of an eye.

Ron stood there, motionless for a long time.

A strong wind blew across the platform, making his wizard robes flutter loudly.

Until a communication interrupted him...

It was a steady blue light, with a frequency as regular as the swinging of a mechanical clock. Ron didn't even need to look to know who it was.

"Ralph".

As the projection unfolded, Vinard's mechanical body appeared in the air.

The great wizard seemed to have just emerged from a high-temperature environment today; the heat dissipation grates on his body were still slightly red, and subtle heat waves could be seen distorting in the air.

“Professor Vinard.” Ron sat down on the sofa in the living room.

"Is there some emergency that you're contacting me at this time?"

"That's it."

His mechanical eyes flickered a few times; this was a characteristic of Vinard when he was performing high-speed calculations.
"Tell me about your research projects first."

"My research?"

"The project about 'improved mineral salt'."

Vinard's projection tilted slightly forward:
"I have had the three alchemy laboratories in the colony independently verify the data report you sent me last time."

His voice was tinged with emotion:

"The result... shocked me."

“Shocking?” Ron raised an eyebrow.

The fact that this extremely rational, mechanized wizard used the word "shocking" indicates that the results of the data verification must have exceeded expectations.

“The common problem with traditional high-energy materials is that the stronger they are, the less stable they become, but your ‘improved mineral salt’ completely breaks this ironclad rule.”

“We conducted stability tests on the samples for three consecutive months—high temperature, low temperature, strong magnetic field, radiation environment, and even a magic storm simulation.”

"As a result, there was no attenuation."

His voice lowered slightly:
“Ralph, you have created a… terrifying strategic energy source.”

Ron remained silent for a moment.

Of course he understood what this meant.

Energy has always been at the core of the development of civilization.

Whether it's a magical civilization or a technological civilization, whoever masters a more efficient and stable energy source has an overwhelming advantage.

"In addition to energy properties,"

Vinard then changed the subject:
"I also noticed your construction projects in the Chaotic Blood World."

The speed at which Twilight City has developed... is equally astonishing to me.

"how did you do it?"

The mechanical wizard asked directly:

"In five years, a chaotic underground shelter was transformed into a new force with a complete industrial system, stable social order, and even the ability to exert influence abroad."

"This kind of efficiency... I spent nearly a hundred years developing the Stoker Star colony and still couldn't achieve it."

Ron smiled and said, "Speaking of which, I should thank you for the management experience I gained in your colony."

"Do not."

Vinard directly denied it:
"Management skills can be learned, but what you're showing... is something deeper."

“You have created a complete ‘ideological system’.”

The light in the mechanical eyes deepened:

“‘Twilight Mode’—I’ve heard Silas mention that name before.”

It is said that in the chaotic world of bloodshed, this word has become something akin to a 'faith'.

"Those vampires and humans who should have been killing each other have begun to cooperate because they agree with this ideology."

“Those who are considered the lowest and most despicable blood slaves have found ‘value’ and ‘dignity’ in your system.”

Vinard's voice became more serious:

"This is not just about optimizing management methods; it's about reconstructing the underlying logic of the entire civilization."

“Ralph, you’re doing something…very dangerous.”

"Danger?"

"For those who have vested interests."

Vinard explained:

“If your model is adopted, it will shake the foundation of the existing power structure.”

“Those forces that rely on bloodline, status, and the old order to maintain their rule will see you as the greatest threat.”

Ron nodded without refuting.

He certainly knew that.

The success of Twilight City essentially proves that—no noble bloodline or innate extraordinary power is required; ordinary people can create value and deserve respect just as much.

"but."

Vinard then changed the subject:
"Personally... I am reservedly open to your attempt."

"After all, the development of a colony requires a stable labor force and an efficient production system."

If your model can truly improve efficiency while maintaining order…

"That is certainly something worth learning from."

The two then discussed some technical details.

Vinard inquired in detail about the optimization of the "blending potion" formula, the working principle of "geological extraction" on the Stoker Star side, and the industrial layout of Twilight City.

Ron also took the opportunity to learn about the latest situation on Stoker's Star.

"The war... is finally going to stop."

When he said this, Vinard's tone became weary:
"I've been fighting with those two old stubborn guys, the 'Melting Master' and the 'Foundry Master,' for over a decade."

"From orbital defense warfare to ground skirmishes, from energy competition to technological blockade..."

The mechanical eyes dimmed slightly:
"The resources lost are enough for me to build two more large mining platforms."

"Therefore, the three parties reached a consensus—to temporarily cease hostilities and allow each party to recuperate."

Ron could hear the helplessness in the other person's words.

The ongoing war is too costly, and if it continues, it could really result in mutual destruction.

“Oh, right.” Vinard seemed to remember something:
How is Silas doing lately?

“He’s doing very well,” Ron replied truthfully. “He’s in charge of the technical department in Twilight City and doing a great job.”

"That's good."

The mechanical wizard nodded:
"The Draven family had placed all their hopes on him, and I'm glad to see that he has lived up to those expectations."

"Speaking of which, those alien students you taught back then..."

Vinard's tone softened:

"Most of them have now become official wizards. Lila, who is of mixed three-eyed race, is the most outstanding, and the others are also steadily improving."

"They are now an important force in the colonies."

"if it is possible."

He extended an invitation:
“You are welcome to visit again. Those children often mention you and want to thank you in person for your guidance back then.”

Ron was filled with memories.

Those students from other ethnic groups do indeed carry a lot of warmth from his memories.

"Let's wait for an opportunity." He didn't give a definite answer: "The future is still long."

"it is good."

At this point, Vinard paused for a moment, and the frequency of his mechanical eyes began to flicker erratically.

Ron's alarm bells rang loudly.

This kind of reaction usually means that the following topic will be tricky.

“Ralph…”

"There's something else I'd like to discuss with you."

"You say."

“About Cedric.” Ron’s expression froze at the mention of that name.

Cedric Mowin.

His former "colleague," the genius madman whom Cassandra had personally promoted, was the creator of the "cognitive virus."

"He... hasn't been doing too well lately."

Vinard organized his thoughts, which was quite unusual for someone who was usually so straightforward:

"After Cassandra went missing, the attitude of the Middle Kingdom towards him... underwent a complete 180-degree change."

Ron listened silently without interrupting.

"All the cooperation offers that were once eagerly sought after were withdrawn overnight."

“Those scholars who once flattered him as a ‘genius’ and ‘innovator’ turned around and published articles in academic journals criticizing his research as ‘unethical’ and ‘crossing the line’.”

Vinard's straightforward narration, however, reveals a cruel truth:
“Even the academy is unwilling to let him teach apprentices anymore, because they are afraid he will lead the students astray.”

"A dignified Moon-level elite, for the past twenty years... has been making a living by writing papers and polishing articles for others."

Ron could picture that scene.

Once a brilliant researcher, full of vigor and personally valued by the tower master, he has now been reduced to making a living by working as a ghostwriter.

Falling from the clouds to the mud, the contrast...

"I think you probably think the same way..."

Vinard's voice rang out:

"He brought it on himself, didn't he?"

"If it weren't for his madness back then, Cassandra might not have been in such a dangerous situation."

"Can……"

The mechanical wizard sighed:
"He was, after all, my student."

Although I expelled him from my sect back then, I still cannot condone what he did.

But seeing him like this... I still think of that young man who was so engrossed in his research back then.

Ron opened his eyes and looked at the mechanized body in the projection.

At that moment, he seemed to see through the cold metal shell a soul that still retained a trace of warmth inside.

“Cedric…I know you’ve become a Dark Sun Wizard, and I also know you’re engaged to Cassandra’s daughter.”

Vinard continued:
"In a sense, you have inherited part of Cassandra's political legacy, and your influence and status surpass any Dark Sun Wizard in the Central Lands now."

"So he asked me... to sound you out."

He wants to know if you're willing to give him a chance.

Ron spoke up:

"Then why doesn't he come to me himself?"

A flash of blue light appeared in the mechanical body's eyes:
"On the one hand, you live a secluded life."

Either in an observation post, a place outsiders absolutely cannot enter, or with Princess Eve, surrounded by Diaz's dispersal field.

Vinard's voice became even lower:

"Moreover, that research plan from the beginning."

To outsiders, it looks like Cedric ousted you.

"He himself thinks so too."

"So he doesn't dare to contact you directly, afraid that you'll hang up on the spot, or even... react more violently."

After saying this, Vinard's projection completely froze.

He was waiting for Ron's response, yet he seemed prepared to be rejected.

“Professor Vinard,” Ron finally spoke, “I need to think about this carefully.”

“Of course,” the mechanical wizard replied immediately.

“You have the right to refuse, and I will not be dissatisfied with it.”

“I can tell who is more important, Cedric or you…”

He will contact you in an hour.

"If you don't want to talk to him at that time, just hang up the call."

"I understand."

Vinard's projection vanished completely after those words.

Ron sat on the sofa, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.

"Tsk tsk tsk..."

"Interesting, really interesting."

Acelia's consciousness awoke from its slumber, with a hint of schadenfreude:

"That madman who ousted you is now so destitute that he has to come begging to you?"

"The cycle of fate is always so ironic."

"What do you think?" Ron asked. "Should I take him on?"

"you still need to ask?"

Dragon Soul's voice suddenly turned serious:
"Either take it over, or get rid of it directly."

"pick one of two."

The way he said it was so resolute surprised even Ron.

"That's incredibly ruthless?"

"of course."

Acelia's tone turned icy:
“I had just come out of the quicksand back then, and I witnessed the entire experiment.”

"That guy named Cedric... is a double-edged sword, but also a deadly weapon."

"His research ability and ideas are so terrifying that I have rarely seen anything like them in all my years of life."

Dragon Soul's tone was extremely cold:
"It's best to keep this kind of person under your control."

"If he falls into the hands of hostile forces..."

"You'll discover just how tricky it can be when an unbridled genius serves your enemy."

"If he can create something as terrifying as a 'cognitive virus,' he can create many more weapons that you can't even imagine."

"You'll regret not making this decision today."

Ron carefully considered the Dragon Soul's suggestion.

Azalea makes a good point.

Cedric's abilities are beyond question; the problem lies in his madness and uncontrollability.

“However…” Dragon Soul added:
“If you really want to take him in, you have to find a way to put a leash on him.”

"Make him act only according to your will, while maximizing his talents."

"This balance..."

Acelia's voice became playful: "That's not easy to handle."

Ron nodded, having already made up his mind.

An hour later, the communication crystal lit up again.

Ron stared at the flickering light, his finger hovering over the activation button.

Press it, or not?
In the end, he still touched the crystal surface.

Projection unfolds.

What came into view was a haggard middle-aged man.

That's Cedric.

The lean yet energetic genius researcher I remembered, with eyes burning with fanatical fervor, has now become this:
His hair was disheveled, his stubble was unkempt, and there were obvious signs of wear on the cuffs of his wizard's robe.

The most obvious change was in his eyes.

Gone is the fervor of "I want to change the world"; in its place is... the embers after the fire has been extinguished.

"Associate Professor Ralph...it's been a long time."

Cedric's voice was a little hoarse.

Ron didn't speak, he just looked at the other person quietly.

This silence was more painful for Cedric than any accusation.

"I know I have no right to bother you."

He lowered his head:
"What happened back then was indeed my fault."

"I was too arrogant, too impatient, too...crazy."

“I thought I could control everything, and that ‘cognitive virus’ could be the ultimate weapon to change the course of the war.”

Cedric's voice began to tremble:
"But in the end... I harmed the tower master, harmed those who trusted me, and harmed... myself."

He looked up, his eyes reddening.
"For the past twenty years, I have regretted it every single day."

"I regret not listening to your advice back then, why I chose that radical path, why..."

"enough."

Ron finally spoke.

“Cedric, I don’t need to hear your confession.”

"What's past can't be changed."

"I just want to know..."

His gaze was as sharp as a knife:
"If I give you the opportunity, what can you do?"

Cedric was stunned.

He clearly hadn't expected Ron to be so direct.

"I……"

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down:
You should be aware of my research capabilities.

"Although the 'cognitive virus' failed, my expertise in sensory cognition, virtual reality construction, and emotion quantification..."

"It remains at the top level in this field."

Hope rekindled in his eyes:

"If needed, I can assist with the research and development of any related projects."

"Whether it's improving existing technology, developing entirely new applications, or even..."

Cedric gritted his teeth:

"If you need me, I can do dangerous research that others dare not or are unwilling to do."

Ron nodded.

This answer is consistent with his understanding of Cedric.

They remain fervent and willing to push boundaries, but now this fervor needs a leader to guide its direction.

"Alright then." He made his decision.
"I can give you a chance."

Upon hearing this, Cedric's face showed an expression of relief, as if he had just escaped a disaster.

But Ron's next words made his expression freeze again:
"But before you officially start working..."

Ron's tone turned serious: "You need to go somewhere first."

"Where?"

"Twilight City".

Ron said casually, "There's a 'Political Department' there, which is specifically responsible for ideological education and value reshaping."

“You need to undergo a period of ‘twilight mode’ re-education there.”

“Learn what ‘people’s power’ means, what ‘serving whom’ means, and what ‘the boundaries of scientific research’ means.”

His gaze pierced through the projection, as if he could see into the depths of Cedric's soul:

"Once you truly understand these things, and your thinking is correct..."

"Only then will I let you assist Silas's research project."

"Before that."

Ron's voice was devoid of any warmth:
"You should stay in Twilight City and learn how to be a 'qualified' researcher."

Cedric remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he bowed deeply:
"I understand."

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"I will accept whatever the conditions are."

Communication is disconnected.

Ron leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh.

The matter of subduing Cedric can be considered settled.

As for whether the other party can truly repent and start anew...

That depends on how effective the "ideological education" in Twilight City will be.

"Well done."

Acelia's voice rang out again:
"Give them a treat, then give them a beating. This wins them over and establishes the rules."

"but……"

Dragon Soul's tone became hesitant:
"Do you really think that 'Twilight Mode' can reform a madman?"

"I don't know," Ron answered honestly.

"But it's worth a try."

"If it succeeds, I will have another capable assistant."

"If it fails..."

"That means some people are truly beyond help."

..............................

at dusk.

Ron sat alone in his study, dealing with the backlog of documents.

Most of them were routine tasks—invitations to peer review for academic journals, notifications for meetings of the Potions Society, and progress reports for various projects for which he was nominally involved.

He flipped through the book, signing where his name was required.

Just then, a special document caught his attention.

Those were Eve's handwritten letters.

The black-haired princess's handwriting was elegant and neat, with each letter exuding a rigorous beauty.

【tutor:
Regarding the follow-up matters concerning the two individuals you mentioned earlier, "Chain" and "Shadow Man," I have already taken care of them on your behalf.

The specific details are as follows...

Ron read the contents of the letter carefully.

Shortly after he entered the world of Bloodshed, Eve took the initiative to contact Christina Amagir, also known as "Eyeball".

The two traveled together to the district where "Chain" had lived before his death.

It was an ordinary neighborhood on the edge of the Central Lands, inhabited by a large number of apprentices and foreign workers engaged in basic jobs.

"Chains"—Yud Klaus's home, is on the third floor of an apartment building.

When Eve and Christina knocked on the door, they were greeted by an old woman.

That was Yude's wife, who was over eighty years old.

Because her husband is a Moon-level wizard, she once took a life-extending potion and could theoretically live for another twenty years.

There was also a woman in her thirties.

That was Yude's daughter, a poor child suffering from bloodline conflict syndrome.

Eve described the scene in detail in her letter:
When the mother heard that we were there on your behalf to offer our condolences, she was taken aback.

Then she pulled her daughter down to her knees, and said tremblingly, "Thank you, adults, for remembering us."

I told them to get up, but the mother cried and said, "When Yude left, he told me he was going to do something very important."

"He said that if he succeeded, he would receive a large sum of money, and his daughter's illness would be cured."

But he never came back...

The mother held her daughter, sobbing uncontrollably.

I was speechless.

Because I suddenly realized that, for "Chains," the Golden Ring Trial was not some kind of "adventure in pursuit of glory."

That was just a father making a desperate gamble to save his daughter.

Ron's fingers tightened slightly, crumpling the letter.

Eve continued writing:

I wanted to give her more magic stones, but the mother refused.

She said, "The league has already given us compensation; we should take whatever amount we are entitled to and not ask for more."

“What Yu-de valued most during his lifetime was the three words ‘follow the rules’.”

Finally, I paid for their "stabilizer" treatment for the next ten years.

They also contacted several reliable potion makers to ensure the girl could receive the medicine regularly.

Although the bloodline conflict syndrome cannot be cured, at least... it can extend her life by a decade or so.

Turn to the next page of the letter.

As for the "shadow man"—Yvette, the situation is somewhat different.

She has no family, but she has a mentor with whom she has a very good relationship, and several friends from the same period.

When I visited her, her supervisor was very cold.

She said, "Since it's an exploration of the abyss, Yvette was prepared to die at any moment."

"Her decision to participate in the Golden Ring assessment was her own."

"Since he is already dead, it is fate's arrangement."

That professor even refused the compensation I was prepared to offer.

She said, "I'm not Yvette's family, so it's inappropriate for me to accept this money."

"Moreover, she would definitely be unhappy if she knew that she would still be troubling others after her death."

Ron put down the letter and closed his eyes.

Two completely different reactions.

The family of "Chains" is plunged into despair by his death, yet they remain grateful to those who are willing to remember him.

The mentors and friends of the "shadow man" faced death with an almost indifferent "professional attitude," which was just a small episode in their daily work.

Which is more cruel?
Ron couldn't explain it.

Perhaps both are cruel.

The cruelty of the former lies in the fact that a person's life is reduced to a number that determines "how much compensation can be received".

The cruelty of the latter lies in the fact that a person's death is handled so lightly, as if it never existed.

The last part of the letter:
I built cenotaphs for both of them.

The location was chosen in the explorer cemetery area of "Eternal Rest Garden".

That place is the burial place of wizards who died exploring the abyss throughout history.

On the tombstone, I engraved their real names, code names, and an epitaph:

The epitaph for "Chain" reads: "He risked everything for his daughter."

The epitaph of the "Shadow Woman" reads: "She burned her life for freedom."

Christina and Ulte both attended the funeral.

The four of us stood in front of the grave, remaining silent for a long time.