Entering the tavern, the rich aroma of alcohol assaulted Su Ming’an’s senses, causing him slight discomfort as he frowned.
Within the tavern, people with various patterns tattooed on their skin sat on wooden chairs, chatting animatedly. The arrival of Su Ming’an and his two companions went unnoticed.
Su Ming’an even saw so patrons engaging in physical combat, landing heavy punches on each other. The crisp sound of rolling dice was everywhere, accompanied by shouts of "Big big big!" and "Small small small!"—with so bursting into hearty laughter and others hanging their heads in dejection.
In a corner, a black dog lying lazily opened a slit of an eye, seemingly observing the entrance.
...This was a chaotic, large-scale tavern, or perhaps more accurately, a gambling den.
Yamada Machiichi had already begun to fulfill his obsequious duty, helping to push the wheelchair, and this was the case even if Su Ming’an said that Xike was controlling the wheelchair—Yamada Machiichi simply wanted to push it.
"Hey, are you here looking for the leader?" A woman with golden hair and dark skin raised her drink, her red lips like blood, the liquid at her mouth glistening enticingly in the light.
"Yes," Lu nodded.
"The leader is over there," the woman said.
Following where she pointed, a handso man sat at the bar’s high stool, draped in a blood-red cloak.
The battle-hardened gang leader, Che Kylstia.
In the mont he saw this leader, Su Ming’an knew this was not soone to trifle with. Che had an aura of blood about him, the kind developed through countless battles, common among adventure players in the post-Sixth World era.
The most striking feature was the bright red flas that seed to burn in Che’s eyes.
That wasn’t the color of his pupils, but rather blood-red electric light—electric light in one’s eyes symbolized the fusion of body and machinery, indicating that Che probably had a significant number of trigger-operated devices implanted in him.
Che jumped down from the high stool, his cloak fluttering lightly behind him like a blood-red flag gradually unfurled. His physique was impressive, with a jet-black combat suit highlighting the muscular outlines of his waist and abdon.
He looked towards Su Ming’an in the wheelchair and strode closer.
"Hello, visitor from the Inner City," Che moved past the cluttered wooden tables and chairs to take a seat beside the empty spot next to Su Ming’an, "I am Che Kylstia."
Yamada Machiichi pushed Su Ming’an’s wheelchair to a square table nearby, very close to the seated Che.
"Call Lewis," Su Ming’an extended his hand, "but... I’m not really a visitor, just a sinner."
"A sinner?"
"From the mont I attacked the robot army to save these two ladies, I suppose my path was already sealed," Su Ming’an said with a wry smile, "I used to think... the Hawk Hound’s robot army was a public guard tasked with maintaining order and firmly eliminating criminals. But now, it seems they are too cold and heartless, ready to clear every obstacle on a command, even if there are innocents..."
Che reached out and grabbed Su Ming’an’s hand.
As their hands clasped, just before they parted, Su Ming’an suddenly felt Che’s grip tighten.
Su Ming’an kept his composure, not exerting any strength in his fingers, allowing Che’s hand to suddenly squeeze harder, making a faint "crack" sound.
"Hiss..." Su Ming’an gasped for air.
"Sorry, sorry, I’m used to sparring with the brothers in the group, didn’t manage my strength properly." Upon seeing this, Che imdiately let go and apologized very sincerely, "Doris, go get a Recovery Agent."
The blonde, dark-skinned woman by his side responded and turned to get sothing from the counter.
"It’s okay, no bones crushed, didn’t hurt anywhere." Su Ming’an shook his head, but internally he sneered at Che’s words.
The combat-savvy leader of the battle group wouldn’t possibly fail to control the strength of a handshake; Che was testing him.
After all, Su Ming’an had appeared too suddenly and had used such terrifying firearms to sweep the ground, driving back hundreds of Scavengers. The battle group was bound to be wary of him. Had he not killed the robot army and gained so Favorability with the battle group, they might have captured him on the spot.
Assembling firearms on a wheelchair took ti, and he hadn’t shown the defensive form of the wheelchair either. As soone sitting in a wheelchair and constantly coughing up blood, he seed easy to ambush, and if the threat could be eliminated, the battle group might take that risk.
The key question was whether he really had been chased here, whether he wouldn’t bring pursuit and trouble from the Inner City.
Su Ming’an had already noticed that the people around him, who were still drinking and gambling, had gradually trained their eyes on him, ready to intervene at any sign of tumult.
These people were not a ragtag bunch of drunks, but rather were creating a seemingly safe and peaceful environnt to provide a relaxed space for conversation between Che and him.
The simple-minded brutes couldn’t possibly be the core of the battle group. The place was filled with astute arms dealers, sensitive informants, highly skilled assassin rcenaries, and Wanderers who possessed both Wisdom and strength.
After being ostracized by the Dawn System, these inferior Persona bearers suddenly shone with a brilliance that even the second-type Persona bearers couldn’t match.
"Now, I probably can’t go back to the Core Area," sighed Su Ming’an. "I got too excited, after all, those robots were about to shoot..."
At that mont, Doris ca over with a tube of healing cream-like Recovery Agent, and Che took it upon himself to apply the dicine to Su Ming’an’s hand.
Che’s little finger wore a golden ring, his father’s ring. His father had died under the persecution of the Dawn System, leaving him this ring in his final monts.
During the application of the dicine, Che and Su Ming’an naturally struck up a conversation.
"You’re from the Core Area? You must have fully enjoyed the ’blessing’ provided by the Dawn System..." said Che.
Che was very talkative and had a charismatic Personality; many people entering the bar greeted him with smiles.
Che continued the organizational structure left by his father and forged the battle group into the largest Rebel organization. If not for the battle group’s existence, the inferior Persona bearers, with nowhere else to go, would have been forced into the Danger Zone to survive or labored like dogs on the city’s outskirts.
Che gave them refuge, Honor and goals, the courage and confidence to fight, allowing people not to feel inferior because of their Persona assessnt, to truly live for themselves.
"... The Dawn System does not represent everything. Murder leads to arrest, imprisonnt, even Execution. This is the main reason most people choose not to commit cris, not so-called moral constraints. The existence of an eighth-type Persona is to give this ’morality’ legitimacy, to legalize morality," said Su Ming’an.
"Rare that you see things the sa way I do..."
Che’s eyes lit up, and he imdiately started asking Su Ming’an for deeper insights on the Dawn System.
An hour later, they were enjoying their conversation imnsely.
With Su Ming’an’s eloquence and experience, building good relationships with others wasn’t difficult. His SS-level Charm played an exceptional role.
Su Ming’an had a Gold Level Passive Skill called "Missionary Halo." The longer he chatted, the more srizing his words beca, producing a hypnotic effect.
Even when Su Ming’an started speaking, the group of burly n who had been laughing and drinking fell silent. Soone peered around the doorway in astonishnt, wondering with whom the leader was conversing so agreeably.
"The reason you’re in pain," said Su Ming’an, "Is that you’re neither purely good nor purely evil. Indeed, you have killed many people. But what’s comndable is that, by admitting yourselves as ’evil,’ you have preserved your self-awareness and conscience.
"If your warband were to seek only personal freedom, it would indeed be aningless. After all, moral ethics isn’t a product of the pursuit of freedom, but rather the pursuit of ’maximizing the interests of individuals and society.’ What people want is ’constrained freedom.’
"In other words," he continued, "it’s about breaking free from the shackles of ’absolute correctness.’
"That is the freest, yet the hardest thing to achieve. However, leader, you’ve shown this kind of freedom within the warband, a collective, unconventional ’freedom’ that has erged under the oppression disguised as ’asurent’... It’s awe-inspiring. You’ve erected a goal for the ostracized, one not worthy of flaunt but worthy of praise. In the hearts of the people in The Fringe, you’ve beco a ’Lighthouse.’
"’Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.’" Su Ming’an raised his glass to the warband leader who had risen from insignificance: "... I admire you; cheers."
...
"Ding Dong!"
[NPC (Che Kylstia) Favorability: 70 (Friendship Line)]
[Current Favorability Rating: A Rare Comrade]
...
"Cheers!"
Che raised his glass to Su Ming’an with a broad smile.
Those eyes that once held vigilance now shimred with joy alone.
"I thought so scout from the Dawn Hawk Hound had co to test our warband, but it turns out to be a kindred spirit I regret not having t sooner," said Che.
Now, Che had lost the probing deanor he had displayed an hour ago. Instead, he was holding Su Ming’an’s hands, wishing he could pull him into a room for an all-night discussion imdiately.
While Che had intelligent folk by his side, most, after all, were inferior personas, lacking in IQ, emotional intelligence, and ability. There were no MAT (Philosophy Persona) by his side, no one to discuss so clearly and incisively with him about future developnts and the warband’s prospects.
The words Su Ming’an had spoken in this past hour felt to Che like a revelation. He wanted to keep Su Ming’an around, not to ntion that devilishly powerful wheelchair; having regular conversations with Su Ming’an would be like having a Think Tank at his disposal.
Su Ming’an glanced at the favorability that had skyrocketed from 10 to 70 points in just one hour and, smiling at Che, raised his glass: "I can’t drink alcohol, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay until we’re both drunk."
"I was presumptuous," Che realized, thinking of Su Ming’an’s persistent coughing: "Lu, what’s the situation with your body? Our warband has a doctor, shall I have Daville take a look at you?"
Su Ming’an shook his head, indicating it was just an old ailnt.
Che was genuinely concerned about his health now, and the favorability had been maxed out as well.
This was his first step in participating in the Caius Tower selection—joining an organization.
According to Xike’s explanation, the selection at Caius Tower is every man for himself. The City of asurent and the rebel army, represented by "Lighthouse," are two opposing organizations.
If he could successfully infiltrate the rebel army, it would be beneficial to the overall situation. Moving back and forth between the two camps has always been his forte.
The intention Su Ming’an expressed showed no keen desire to join Lighthouse. Che offered him a position similar to that of a "Guest Elder."
After the conversation ended, Su Ming’an said goodbye to Che, and they agreed to et again the next day.
After a numbed Yamada Machiichi pushed Su Ming’an out of the place, the warm smile on Che’s face instantly dissipated.
His fingers tapped lightly on the wooden table, and the drunken look in his eyes had already vanished.
"...When the Type Two Persona squad enters the City of asurent tomorrow, ask around if there have been any disappearances in the Core Area, and go to District Seven to find ’Giant Rat.’ Also, pay attention to the city’s wanted list to see if there is anyone resembling Lewis," Che said.
Next to him, the bald and burly Beiji of the fighting group, along with the bearded Bude, nodded and quickly left the tavern.
Che did not fully trust Su Ming’an, even though he emotionally wanted to recognize the other. His interest lay solely in absolute benefits.
He invited him to join Lighthouse because he was impressed by the chanical skill Su Ming’an had demonstrated within the hour—during their chat, Che had Su Ming’an show his ability to freely modify firearms under the pretense of asking, "Can you show my sister the legendary ray gun?"
Che judged that Su Ming’an was at least a Type Two Persona. As long as the most core secrets of Lighthouse were kept, the existence of a Type Two Persona would only bring benefits, not detrints.
...
At night, Su Ming’an ca to Dong An’an’s ho. There were no parents in Dong An’an’s ho, leaving only her sister who had gone out to work, in a job that apparently required her to stay out all night.
The house was dilapidated but not small in size; however, the surroundings were filled with pollution and chanical junk, making the environnt extrely poor.
Having already made initial contact with the boss of the rebel army "Lighthouse," Su Ming’an would venture alone into the City of asurent tomorrow to engage with "Eden," "Hawk Hound," and "Sanctuary," the three leading organizations that rule the city. He intended to observe their attitudes towards the Doctor. Taking down these three organizations would make subsequent moves smooth sailing.
On the narrow wooden bed, Su Ming’an fell into a deep sleep. He had overexerted himself during the past three days to enhance his chanical skills, leaving him extrely fatigued.
The nights in the Ruined World were rather noisy, with airships occasionally passing overhead, and the sounds of tal clashing and people running in pursuit were frequent.
In the most chaotic places, human heads were commonly found hanging from belt pouches. This was The Fringe, an area left unchecked by the Dawn System, where cri and bloodshed were rife.
In a groggy half-sleep, Su Ming’an felt soone approaching.
His Defensive Barrier was ready to activate, he barely opened his eyes and saw a dagger resting on his neck, with a slim figure like that of a woman standing coldly at his bedside—a Shadow appeared.
...An uninvited nightti visitor.
"You are the source of all evil, taking you hostage would make the Dawn System collapse, wouldn’t it?" said the person, the dagger perilously close to his throat.
"Do you know who I am?" Su Ming’an asked.
"...Who do you think you are? A Teacher who can transform people’s souls? A Miracle rchant who trades with people’s futures? Or... the so-called God, a creator who judges all of humanity?" the Shadow sneered. "Everyone thinks you’re great, but I wish you were dead, Yasa Acto."
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