Tower of Overturn

The deep blue sword light fell dazzlingly like a comet—

A chilling murderous intent, poured into Russell's veins from his hands, struck his spine like a running wolf!

Russell's ears instantly pricked up, and all the fur on his tail fluffed out.

The trailing shadow of that light still lingered on Russell's retina.

—Yet what Bad Day was holding was merely a handle without a blade.

But the moment it was swung, it seemed to drag a whip-like, extremely thin streak of deep blue light blade.

Russell couldn't even be entirely sure if the light blade truly existed.

It could even have been just his hallucination.

Because there were only three steps between him and Bad Day. Between the two of them, a table knocked over by mercenaries from Trigger separated them.

If the light blade was real, both the crouching Russell and the table blocking him would have been slashed into two halves with that strike.

However, if they said that the blade shadow didn't exist...

Russell felt a remnant chill streak slantingly across his body, entering from the right side of his neck and exiting through his left waist.

It was like when one tilts their head back to drink icy cola, a trickle of the liquid slips from the throat and seeps into the shirt.

A sharply cleaving sword intent, almost splitting him in two, still lingered inside Russell.

He subconsciously reached under his coat to touch his own skin, to confirm it was indeed unharmed.

—To be specific, not even a single crack. Touching with his fingers, they felt no coldness... it was the normal warmth of skin.

"But how can this be..."

Russell murmured subconsciously.

The next moment, his pupils suddenly constricted.

He saw the two mercenaries who were continuously shooting at them suddenly burst into sprays of blood from behind, their heads severed from their bodies.

The headless bodies slowly fell to the ground. One head, without horns, rolled toward Russell dragging a trail of blood, while the other, like an overripe apple, thudded onto the ground, splattering irregular bloodstains.

They did not resist, did not scream, showed no fear.

The mask on the rolling head fell off due to the tumble.

Madness and cruelty still clung to his face, as if branded into the flesh with a red-hot iron. Only in those eyes, which could no longer close, was there a hint of caution… likely from seeing Bad Day raise something.

—They hadn't even realized they were already dead.

Because in just an instant, their heads had been severed by Bad Day, who was standing behind them.

Although Bad Day swung the light sword at Russell, it was the two people standing behind him who ended up decapitated.

"…Is this also, spiritual energy?"

Russell murmured.

He felt a bit dizzy, and somewhat nauseous.

He didn't know if it was because people kept dying before his eyes in such a visually striking manner; or if the room's stench of blood was too overpowering... or it could simply be due to hypoxia from the broken window.

"Take it, Russell."

Bad Day said, pulling a second memory chip flashing a red light from behind his ear.

Following that, he threw an unsheathed short sword on the ground.

Fearing it would be blown away by the wind, Russell immediately grabbed it.

The feel of it, as if custom-made, along with its unique design, instantly caught Russell's attention.

—As a short sword, it lacked an edge or hilt-guard. The blade of the short sword was only twice as long as the handle, and its mass was light, akin to some alloy.

Yet noteworthy was a crimson mark resembling blood smeared on one side of the blade.

It was as if it had cut through someone's skin, severed someone's head, and hadn't been cleaned afterward.

At a glance, anyone would think it was a weapon yet to be cleaned after a crime.

However, that was impossible.

Russell knew very well—if that were the case, the blood would quickly rust the blade. Also, oxygenated blood would turn into a brownish dirt, and couldn't maintain such a vivid red color.

"This is..."

"Consider it an heirloom from your mother, a spiritual energy weapon. It's called 'Sage Beheading.' Your mother, Alice or as she was codenamed 'Doctor,' gave this sword to me, and now I pass it on to you."

Bad Day looked at Russell with a complex expression, "Your mother, Alice… she never left Babel Tower, she never did."

"...Doctor?"

Russell repeated the code name.

"Do you really think she died of illness?"

Bad Day guessed what Russell was thinking and counter-asked directly, "She was the best healer in Babel, capable of directly removing the 'cause of illness'—a powerful healer.

"Before this, had you ever seen her fall ill even once? Or perhaps... have you ever fallen ill yourself?"

Upon hearing this, Russell's pupils slightly dilated.

He felt as though he had grasped something.

Due to lack of oxygen, his cheeks were somewhat flushed.

In the vague hallucination, he seemed to smell the decay of his mother's dying breath mixed with the current scent of blood and gunpowder on the ground.

"'Deer Head' believes it might be a Spiritual Energy User with remote curse abilities."

Without waiting for Russell to respond, Bad Day immediately revealed the answer, "The community where the Curse Master resides has been locked down by us, somewhere on Happiness Island. That's why I came here to handle this matter.

"Since you could still buy airship tickets through regular channels, it indicates that her real identity must not have been disclosed. Otherwise, you would have been arrested directly by the Execution Department of Chongguang Island at offshore security check. So you'd better not get involved in these matters anymore."

"...Is there anything else I can know about this matter?"

Russell's voice was soft.

Due to hypoxia, he already felt a bit dizzy.

But he still insisted on hearing out what Bad Day had to say—

After all, after this farewell, it was uncertain when they would meet again.

The next time they met, he might not be trustworthy or willing to answer these questions anymore.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you because this matter has nothing to do with you. You have no capability to intervene."

Bad Day pulled the knife handle back into his breast pocket, walked back to his seat in the cold storm, poured himself a cup of rapidly cooling hot tea, and sighed, "She probably never told you her real identity. She wasn't abandoned on Chongguang Island, but was undercover there. Because she wasn't an intelligence agent, rather an important logistics… But as an illegal Spiritual Energy User, her identity verification code has already expired. That's also why she couldn't find a good job.

"Of course, your mother indeed had a substantial savings in the organization. But because of the identity issues with your father, it could only be transferred to you through a 'legal and reasonable', 'traceable' means after an accident, rather than given directly to you. Otherwise, if the source of this money were traced, it would make you suspicious.

"For example, having you win a lottery operated by the organization, or buying some wanted criminals' information, and then turning them over to you.

"Chongguang Group's artificial intelligence can perform the most precise big data analysis. Unlike Happiness Island, Chongguang Island includes all high-rank positions in security and information security managed entirely by artificial intelligence.

"This also means that without revealing her identity, Chongguang Island is actually the safest place—because robots don't act on whims, they adhere to evidence and logic. That's why she scrimped and saved to fool the artificial intelligence of Chongguang Island while fabricating another life and identity to deceive friends and relatives. As for you... you too were a means to deceive the artificial intelligence.

"Just three months ago, we were targeted by a group of people. It was only two weeks ago that we shook off the trackers, but during a cybersecurity battle, the opponents entered Babel's network environment using a backdoor known only to internal senior personnel. Even though Deer Head cut off the internal network at the first moment, some personnel's intelligence was still leaked. It involved more than a dozen people.

"While Babel was keeping silent and trying to shake off the trackers... 'Doctor,' 'Azalea,' 'Lycoris,' and 'Aurora' were successively curse-killed."

"—So, about that traitor, are there any clues?"

Russell stared intently at Bad Day, "I might not do anything… I just want to know. Just in case."

"I understand. You're worried that we ultimately might not take action, right?"

At that, Bad Day laughed.

"Is that not OK?"

"No, it's quite sensible. I can understand your thoughts—rather, not trusting others is a commendable habit. But this matter, in every sense, has nothing to do with you."

Bad Day said leisurely, "You're just an ordinary person, the chip still exists in the back of your head—you are a 'validator' who can live under the sunlight. You can work at the head office, live in a protected environment... Although throughout your life, you could only ever reach the starting point of an Elf, at least you won't lose your chip like us, becoming 'Codeless' without an identity, forced to barely survive in the Lower City District by selling your body, life, conscience, and morals.

"You don't have the ability or skills to kill, and you can't even safely enter the Lower City District, let alone use some technologies not allowed by law."

"But you told me so much because you wanted me to keep asking, right?"

Russell unhesitatingly exposed Bad Day's inner thoughts.

His tone turned unusually assertive, "I know what you're thinking—trying to use my words, at least bring some solid info, don't be cryptic."

"...I thought you were the more timid type."

Bad Day looked at Russell with some surprise, "Finally stopped pretending, have you?"

Russell had realized that this ill-mannered white-furred Big Dog was just intentionally wasting time to infuriate him.

So, he calmed down instead.

Enduring the increasingly intense dizziness, Russell strove to keep his tone even, "'Being of no use to anyone is a hundred times more dangerous than being used', I think... I should still be able to fetch a good price now."

Deep in his pupils, the faint green glow gradually flickered uncertainly.

Like the moonlight reflected on a calm lake, ripples stirred up by the evening breeze.