American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 116 Charles: That man has arrived.

On the other side, Gladr breathed a long sigh of relief only after confirming that the heavy metal security door was completely locked.

My tense nerves relaxed slightly.

He leaned against the cold, damp pipe wall and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

To be honest, at the very beginning, he believed it to be about 70-80%.

The man in black who suddenly appeared possessed an indescribable aura that seemed out of place in this world enveloped by rules and cold metal.

Not to mention, the other party was able to accurately pronounce Mr. Diablo's real name, which had been almost buried by time.

However.
Years of underground survival instincts made him suppress his initial excitement and become more cautious.

He casually asked a few questions about the old era.

What did people in the past like to do most in their spare time?

He asked casually.

The other party's answer vaguely focused on the fact that "the strawberry cake was delicious".

Undeterred, he pressed further, asking where an old antique called a 'television' is usually kept in the home.

The other person's eyes started to dart around, and they began to mumble and try to steer the conversation toward things like 'the world,' their attempts to fob off the topic were all too obvious.

This reaction was like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing the flame of hope that had just ignited in Glad's heart.

It's so strange, it's riddled with loopholes.

just in case……

Is this the latest, more advanced penetration test developed by the Ethics Committee?

Using a seemingly impossible "identity" as a disguise to completely break through his psychological defenses?
He didn't dare to gamble.

Even the slightest risk could destroy the entire base.

Therefore, to be on the safe side, he could only suppress his doubts and, according to the emergency plan, lead the other party into the 'safe house' specifically used to temporarily isolate unidentified individuals.

Although the place was empty, it still had a basic life support system, with nutrient solution and clean water delivered regularly, so at least no one would starve to death.

In this way, once I safely return to base and report to my superiors, the decision on how to proceed will be made by higher-ranking officers.

Talk about it.
The thought of the base weighed heavily on Glad's heart, and he subconsciously touched the identification tag in his pocket.

He thought of his mother, who was still lying in a hospital bed at home.

If I escape like this, my mother will definitely be quickly transferred to a unified 'supervision and care facility' by the morality robot.

Although she knew that place would at least sustain her most basic life needs, that cold, programmed place...

He shook his head violently, forcibly cutting off his thoughts.

Now is not the time to indulge in personal emotions.

The instinct for survival and the sense of responsibility to the organization overwhelmed the guilt and sadness that surged within them.

Gled took a deep breath, calibrated his bearings, and skillfully navigated the maze-like sewers.

After winding his way through the maze of streets, he arrived at a more secluded corner, the entrance of which was blocked by a huge discarded filter screen.

After looking around with extreme vigilance and repeatedly confirming that there were no followers,

He tapped a few times with a specific rhythm and pressure on a seemingly rusted panel, and then entered a long string of constantly changing dynamic passwords into an almost invisible sensor area.

"Om-"

A soft but reassuring sound of a motor running rang out.

A thick, impeccably disguised metal plate slowly slid inwards, revealing a brightly lit safety passage behind it, from which faint voices and the low hum of instruments could be heard.

We've arrived at the branch base.

A hint of relief crossed his face as he returned to a relatively safe area, and Glad lifted his foot to step into the warm light.

but.
Just as he was about to step into the light.

A calm, slightly playful voice sounded behind him, abruptly stopping his movements:
"After so many turns, is this the place? Your base?"

"?!"

Goosebumps spread like a tide from my spine all the way to my scalp!

This voice? !
Gled froze on the spot, his neck slowly, with an incredulous look of terror, turning his head little by little.

There stood the man in black, who should have been locked firmly in what was touted as an absolutely safe "wartime safe house" made of the hardest alloy.

At this moment, he was leisurely leaning against a large pipe not far behind him.

She casually crossed her arms over her chest, watching him with a relaxed air.

How can this be? !
That little dark room...

However, even small energy weapons cannot break through it instantly.

How did he get out?! When did he get out?!
How... how could we possibly have gotten here?!
-
Sewer hub.

Rebel base headquarters.

In stark contrast to the damp and dark environment of the outside pipes, this vast, renovated underground space is brightly lit, with various rough but practical equipment and pipelines scattered around.

In a relatively quiet, temporarily partitioned command area, two figures are having a conversation.

The young man's three signature gold hair ties stood out prominently under the lights.

At this moment, he was standing next to a sophisticated communications control panel with a slight frown on his face.

Opposite him, sitting in a high-tech wheelchair, was a man with a gentle face but wise eyes.

"I have already sent the items through the 'channels'."

The young man's voice carried a hint of weariness and uncertainty, "But will Grandpa choose to come? I..."

He shook his head and didn't say anything more, seemingly not having much hope for the outcome.

Seeking help from a 'past' relative across parallel universes sounds almost like a fantasy.

"It's fine."

Charles smiled gently, and his soothing voice rang out softly:

"It's alright, Giorno."

“At least you have successfully brought the ‘key’ and our request to that parallel universe, which is a remarkable achievement in itself.” He moved his wheelchair forward slightly. “In the end, this is just one attempt among many solutions we have.”

"We have several backup plans in place to lure out His Majesty the Emperor, who rarely leaves the palace and lives in seclusion for many years."

"?"

"professor."

Upon hearing this, Giorno was not happy at all; his brows furrowed even more.

"Didn't I already clearly reject Uncle Lex's plan?"

"The kind of 'existence' he conceived, with that level of power and uncontrollability, is far too dangerous! One wrong move, and the out-of-control energy reaction could even..."

He paused, lowering his voice even further, filled with deep worry:
"Even the Earth itself could be completely destroyed as a result!"

"Don't be impatient, child."

The old man's unconscious spiritual energy soothed Giorno's agitated emotions like a warm stream. "I wasn't talking about Mr. Lex's plan."

“I’m referring to the backup plans that Mr. Bruce Wayne recently proposed.”

Upon hearing that it was Bruce's plan, Giorno's tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Thankfully, it wasn't his mad scientist uncle Luther's crazy idea.

Although Mr. Wayne's plans often come with high risks and high costs, they are at least logically sound and usually minimize the possibility of civilian casualties and disasters, which is within his acceptable range.

"professor."

Giorno's emotions had calmed down considerably, and he asked curiously, "What new proposal has Mr. Wayne put forward this time?"

"it is good."

Professor Charles nodded, preparing to elaborate.
but.
Before he could even utter a word, he suddenly froze!
Those blue eyes, which were always full of wisdom and tolerance, instantly lost their focus, becoming empty and deep.

The old man's consciousness seemed to be drawn away in an instant, cast into some extremely distant or extremely profound place.

This process was extremely brief, almost as short as a blink of an eye for Giorno.

next second.

Charles's gaze quickly returned to normal and refocused.

But those eyes were now filled with a look completely different from what they had shown moments before—

With a complex mix of relief and satisfaction, Charles looked up at Giorno, who was filled with confusion, and a bewildered smile slowly spread across his face.

"Giorno."

His voice had a wonderful rhythm.

It felt as if I had just witnessed a small miracle.

"We don't need to activate any of Bruce's backup plans."

The old man paused, then spoke clearly, word by word:

"Barry's Speed ​​Force is back."

"That man..."

"He's coming too."

(End of this chapter)