Build an ancient-level power in the nightmare world

Chris and Sean both turned their gazes toward the door that had just been pushed open.

A tall, upright figure strode in from outside the door; it was Benjamin.

The moment he stepped through the door, his gaze landed precisely on Chris and Sean.

As usual, Chris couldn't detect any change in the other person's expression.

"Captain," Sean said, raising his glass of milk, "want something to eat?"

Chris sat to the side, his grip on the glass tightening slightly, watching Benjamin silently without saying a word.

He really wanted to ask Benjamin when he could leave this place.

But he knew that now was not the time.

Chris's gaze unconsciously drifted downwards, and he noticed that Benjamin had been clutching a brown file folder in his hand when he entered.

He couldn't help but wonder what was inside.

Could it be documents related to his departure from the party?

Benjamin walked to the center of the hall and stopped not far from the two of them. He first turned his head slightly to look at Sean and said in a flat tone, "I've already eaten."

He then turned to Chris and said, "You can go now."

"Um?"

Chris was slightly taken aback by these unexpected words, and his head tilted subconsciously.

A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes, and he asked incredulously, "You can leave right now?"

"Hmm," Benjamin replied indifferently.

At the same time, he pulled a blank sheet of paper from the file bag in his hand, took two steps forward, and handed it to Chris.

Chris's eyes immediately fell on the document, and he reached out and took it from him.

Chris's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at the few lines of small writing in Ivan script on the paper.

He recognized most of the common script used by the Im Empire.

This is a provisional approval.

Simply put, he is indeed free now.

No need to stay in the torchbearer's stronghold anymore.

But he cannot leave Rom.

The torchbearer may summon him again later.

At the very bottom of the document was a round red seal.

After reading the contents of the document, Chris looked up at Benjamin.

He thought he was probably fine, but he never expected that he would actually regain his freedom after waking up from a nap.

Whether it's Benjamin or the torchbearer, their efficiency is just too high.

Meeting Chris's gaze, Benjamin expressionlessly pulled another document from the file folder and handed it to him.

"Sign it, and you can leave."

Upon hearing this, Chris's gaze returned to the documents in Benjamin's hand.

He glanced at the title at the top of the document and read it aloud in a low voice: "A Commitment to Non-Proliferation of Extraordinary Powers?"

Chris's gaze swept downwards.

This document was written in a smaller font than the previous one, with dozens of densely packed lines.

The core content requires signatories to guarantee that they will not use extraordinary powers on ordinary people, will not use extraordinary powers to do things that violate imperial laws, and will not spread knowledge related to extraordinary powers in any way.

The terms were written in great detail, even listing the consequences of breaking the promise.

Chris felt as if he had been placed under dozens of invisible shackles once he signed the document.

That's too strict.

But on second thought, he could understand the torchbearer's actions.

Moreover, he has no choice at all now.

Chris looked up at Benjamin and asked, "How do I sign?"

He didn't have a pen in his hand.

Benjamin pointed to the blank space in the lower right corner of the document.

"Just leave a trace of your spirit here."

Although Chris had doubts, he did as he was told.

Benjamin put the signed commitment letter back into the document bag, leaving only the temporary approval document for Chris.

"Keep this safe. If anyone else claiming to be the torchbearer contacts you during this time, just show them this document."

"Your old place might be under surveillance soon, so you'd better find a new place to live as soon as possible," Benjamin reminded him. "When you move, remember to report to the Marlowe Detective Agency."

He looked at Chris and added, "Leave on your own after you finish eating. Remember to use the entrance to the Marlowe Detective Agency; you know that way."

After saying that, Benjamin turned and left, heading towards the room where Chris had been.

Chris watched Benjamin's departing figure, then looked down at the documents in his hand, and once again marveled at how efficient the torchbearers were.

"It's time for me to go home."

Sean's voice suddenly rang out beside Chris. Sometime later, he had finished his milk and was slowly getting up to look at Chris.

"Want to go together?"

Chris paused for a moment, then nodded, got up, and left the hall with Sean, heading towards the exit of the Marlowe Detective Agency.

As Chris left the detective agency, he encountered the man who had driven the car the night before.

Listening to Sean and the other person greet each other, he realized that this person was Killian.

After leaving the detective agency, Sean said goodbye to Chris and walked quickly towards a small alley next to Tulip Street.

Chris watched Sean walk away, feeling the faint sunlight filtering through the gray clouds, and a strange emotion slowly welled up inside him.

There was no imprisonment, no interrogation; he was simply released after signing a document.

His first direct encounter with the torchbearer was completely different from what he had expected.

Of course, Chris also knew that this was mostly related to the message he had given Benjamin last night as a stargazer.

No matter where you are, if you have connections, you'll always get different treatment.

However, Chris was still somewhat bothered by the idea of ​​using a spiritual signature.

He always felt that the torchbearer had a way of locating him at any time through that sliver of spirituality.

It's unknown how many extraordinary individuals in this city have signed this pledge.

In this world where extraordinary powers exist, the fact that society can maintain its current stability must be due to countless people who have paid an unimaginable price.

Having calmed his turbulent emotions, Chris headed towards the tram stop on Tulip Street.

Not long after.

In front of the apartment at 037 Nottingham Street.

Chris had just walked through the alley and into the open space in front of the apartment when he saw two men in black uniforms discussing something in hushed tones while holding a document.

The two talked in hushed tones, occasionally glancing up at the apartment building in front of them.

Chris suddenly felt that one of the faces looked familiar.

He squinted and looked closely, finally recognizing the other person.

That was Orian, the employee of the Imbank Rom branch he had met when he bought the house.

"Mr. Orion?" Chris walked over slowly and asked tentatively.

Upon hearing the sound, the slightly overweight middle-aged man abruptly looked up at him.

A hint of confusion flashed in his eyes at first, then he frowned slightly, revealing a puzzled expression.

"Who are you……"

"Chris, Chris Kraft, the owner of room 102, do you remember me?" Chris introduced himself briefly when he saw that the other person did not recognize him.

These words instantly awakened Orion's memories.

He looked like he'd just realized something, and immediately smiled and said, "Oh, right, Mr. Chris, the owner of room 102."

Listening to their conversation, the younger-looking blond man in uniform suddenly frowned and asked, "You're Chris Craft?"

"It's me, hello." Chris didn't recognize the other person, guessing that he was probably also from Im Bank, so he turned to Orion and asked, "And this is?"

"Oh, this is Commissioner Smith from the Housing Authority. We're here today to..." Orion started to say, but then suddenly turned to look at Smith beside him.

Smith immediately picked up the conversation, saying, "The city has new plans for this apartment building, and besides Im Bank, you are the only individual owner here."

He took a step closer to Chris and continued, "Shall we talk?"

Chris was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, but quickly realized what he meant.

So, his house is going to be demolished?

……

A moment later.

Chris stood in front of the apartment building, watching Smith and Orion walk away.

His suppressed joy finally burst forth, and his face was filled with an unconcealable smile.

The municipality does intend to reclaim the property rights of this apartment building, but they haven't said what they'll use it for, and he's not particularly interested in knowing.

After all, the terms offered were so generous that Chris couldn't find a reason to refuse.

To ensure a smoother demolition process, Imbank will repurchase Chris's apartment 102 at the original price.

In other words, Chris can get back his 20% down payment in full, as well as all the mortgage payments he has made over the past year.

In addition, Imbank will pay him a compensation equivalent to 20% of the total house price.

In the end, Chris received significantly more money than the demolition compensation directly from the city.

So he agreed without much hesitation.

Chris never even considered things like demanding exorbitant prices or becoming a holdout.

He roughly guessed that the sudden demolition of this apartment building was most likely due to the Torchbearer's side contacting the relevant departments in Rom City.

Benjamin had previously warned him that the apartment building might be subject to control measures, and advised him to find a new place to live as soon as possible.

So that's what it meant.

He and Orion had arranged to sign the contract the day after tomorrow morning.

That day happened to be the day Constance was hosting a party, which didn't start until noon. Signing the contract wouldn't take much time, and we could make it in time.

Chris returned to his apartment, lay on the sofa in the living room, and couldn't help but recall his experiences over the past month since he transmigrated, his heart filled with emotion.

Although the cause of my death has not yet been determined, everything is moving in a positive direction, and that's enough.

I hope these peaceful days can continue forever.

……

In Rom, in a building without a house number next to the city hall.

Through the three floor-to-ceiling windows with carved borders, dappled light and shadows spill into the room, like a thin veil falling in the center of the room.

A man with almost entirely white hair and wearing round, black-rimmed glasses stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a document in his hand, gazing calmly out the window.

The last signature in the bottom right corner of the document is: Benjamin Hall.