Mobius was furious; Ryan felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, but he couldn't see her expression; he had a mission and couldn't dwell on it.
Night fell; the Fifth Research Institute experienced a brief power outage, quickly restored. The security personnel called to inquire but were disregarded; Mobius occasionally caused minor disruptions.
During the outage, they focused solely on guarding the entrance, weapons trained on the door, fearing the escape of Honkai Beasts.
Using the Institute's unique properties, Ryan silently exited the underground facility; after a month, he saw the sky again.
The desert was vast and desolate. He inhaled the dry air, closed his eyes, and opened them with a cold gaze, shifting from scholar to assassin.
Mobius's lair had been excellent training; he'd mastered the Herrscher's Authority; it was time to use it.
"Five hundred kilometers; a quick trip will provide further practice."
Electromagnetic force propelled him into the air; he moved like a maglev train, accelerating across the dark desert.
The night wind ruffled his hair; Ryan's excitement grew; he felt like he'd pressed the accelerator; his heartbeat and speed constantly increased.
Rocks and cacti flashed by; to leave no trace, he avoided direct impact, gliding past obstacles.
His movements were fluid—acceleration, deceleration, turns—his skill improving, pleasing him.
Before, I could only condense Honkai energy into short bursts; highly mobile targets were difficult; this allows for sustained flight.
The same energy, amplified by the Authority, produced far greater results; it could also be combined with his previous abilities.
Ryan slowed, extending his right hand; purple lightning erupted, like a phoenix's cry, then stabilized into a longsword.
Silently, a nearby boulder split in two; before the fragments hit the ground, a lightning spear pierced them; the spear exploded, reducing the boulder to nothing.
"High energy consumption, but excellent results. I'm not using instinct; it's about knowledge and skill; combining them opens new possibilities."
The exhilarating feeling of growing power was intoxicating; the process was both physically and mentally satisfying. Disregarding the Honkai, the Previous Era was ideally suited to him.
"I should have a chance to study the cores of the Herrscher of Reason and the Herrscher of Void. If I can make progress, will I become another Finality?"
Combining all the Herrscher's powers—the only difference would be power output. With enough time, he might change the world's fate.
But there's only so much time…
Ryan sighed; he shouldn't be so optimistic. He had a feeling his "wings" were larger than he imagined; the Third Herrscher's dying words—"Extraterrestrial"—were a persistent thorn.
One step at a time; do his best.
He looked up, through the twilight sandstorm, seeing a city in the distance. It lacked skyscrapers; scattered across the crimson desert, faint taillights indicated roads.
This town was once famous for iron and coal mines; during its heyday, steel mills were ubiquitous; after resource depletion, it became a "flour" transit station.
Rusty signs stood along the road, their white lettering reading:
Welcome to Montpelier.
So desolate. Vill-V was hiding here?
Even if she was a magician, she couldn't escape Fire Moth's intelligence network; the coordinates were accurate.
Ryan circled the outskirts, planning his approach.
Conceal his identity, find Vill-V, expose her patron, and then the Authority would take care of the rest.
I just want to reorganize Fire Moth's research departments, accelerate the warrior fusion project. How they divide the spoils is none of my concern.
They will eventually pay me back.
He jumped from a cliff, landing silently by the road; no need for disguises; he approached the town directly.
Southern Mu Continent was barren; the few surveillance cameras malfunctioned as he passed, their chips seemingly fried.
He knew Vill-V's hacking skills; if she were using the municipal network, she'd be alerted; if not, he wasn't worried; Montpelier was small; he'd quickly find her.
"She really knows how to hide; she chose a place where even birds wouldn't defecate."
Entering the town, Ryan felt its desolation. The Honkai was merely one of humanity's problems; poverty led to more widespread conflict.
This was a haven for smugglers and flour traders. After the third Honkai impact, the government barely maintained a façade of order.
Fire Moth wouldn't protect this worthless town; the flour flowing from this area, barely keeping people alive, was infuriating. A Honkai outbreak would be a blessing in disguise.
Honkai outbreaks were more frequent and intense; Fire Moth couldn't help everywhere; all branches prioritized their designated regions. Towns like this, lacking Honkai activity, were slowly decaying—E-class.
The power vacuum fueled rampant crime; even conscientious police officers, sacrificing themselves, couldn't stop it.
Just entering the town, he witnessed two robberies—a gang fight and a flour deal gone wrong.
Gold-chained gang members squatted by the roadside, exchanging F-bombs and eyeing passersby with predatory gazes; they whispered among themselves.
A white shirt, ordinary trousers, rimless glasses—Ryan stood out; he didn't belong in Montpelier.
Irritating gazes.
Ryan found his acute senses bothersome; he sensed the robbers' aggression, the prostitutes' desperation, the smugglers' cunning; none were friendly.
But just as humans didn't react to ants' gazes, he focused on Elysia, the girl eternally filled with love.
Had she encountered such places during her travels—places where order had collapsed, filled with lust and malice, devoid of hope?
Thump.
Ryan stopped, seeing several naked bodies hanging under a dilapidated bridge; a sign read:
"This isn't for reporters."
"I didn't pay the ransom on time."
"I shouldn't have touched the Hesson family."
Corpses lay baking in the sun; the rust-eaten fence was decaying, punctuated by sporadic gunfire; this was worse than Shanghai's ruins.
"Young man, if I were you, I'd find the fastest vehicle and leave before you attract attention."
Ryan turned to see an old man sitting on the steps, wearing a worn-out hat, holding a bottle of liquor.
"Have the local police disappeared?"
"Ha ha, they couldn't maintain order before. It was all about money. They mentioned something about 'Honkai' on the TV; now, they've given up. Remember that female reporter? She thought she'd find the truth, but the higher-ups don't care."
Ryan inhaled; the third Honkai impact had shaken the world, but its effects were minimal here. He knew the world was full of deception and cults.
Doomsday Arks, hedonistic hiding, precisely targeting every human instinct.
"Don't you feel anything?"
"I've lived here for sixty years; I'm used to it. Besides, real estate prices in big cities are sky-high. The Fire Moth agencies and the World Salvation Organization… it's all the same." The old man took a swig of liquor, slurring his words.
"Don't look down on Montpelier. The black market is booming; demand across Mu Continent is high. People die eventually; dying in gang fights or from monsters—what's the difference? Like me, the best is to drink myself to sleep and never wake up."
The old man's words, though simple, revealed the mindset of the common people.
Heroes are always few; most people just drift along. Without Path, he would have been one of them, probably frantically hoarding money and seeking a comfortable death.
Ryan glanced again at the corpses under the bridge. He wasn't like those overpowered transmigrators who spent their days with female Flame-Chasers, engaging in ambiguous encounters and uncovering secrets; he had to see the harsh realities of the world, the human struggles that weren't captured in statistics.
Interesting. No wonder the Herrschers made so many excuses; in their positions, proclaiming "humanity is destined for destruction" wasn't unreasonable. But—
Turning evil when confronted with evil, turning good when confronted with good—such cliché characters.
Footsteps approached; the old man was drunk; a clicking sound reached his ears; a foul odor filled his nostrils.
"Stop thinking; get to work."
Ryan seemed unfazed; he slowly raised his right hand.
"Put your hands on your head and turn around. One move, and I'll kill you." The black man chuckled, raising his weapon, believing he'd found an easy target.
But the target seemed to vanish; two dull thuds echoed.
Bang—Bang—
Hot liquid splattered across the black man's face. He turned to see his two companions lying on the ground, their heads missing; the wall behind them was splattered with red and white, like thrown tomatoes; the viscous liquid slowly dripped.
The black man still held his gun, his face twitching uncontrollably; he stared blankly at the side, where the dark-haired youth was wiping blood from his fist; his white shirt was pristine.
"You soiled yourself."
Ryan glanced at the dirty jeans, gently taking the gun. A warm smile spread across his face.
"I'm looking for someone. Can you take me to your boss?"