Tower of Overturn

The cold and heavy tactile sensation was not unfamiliar to Russell.

He had seen such terrifying objects when he was doing illegal work in the Lower City District of Chongguang Island.

At a glance, he could tell that this was a shotgun that could be held with one hand.

—Damn! How did he get through security?

Russell immediately realized that there must be something seriously wrong with this person's identity.

What kind of person could deceive the extremely strict spiritual energy security-check and bring lethal weapons onto the sealed airship?

Whether it was Chongguang Island or Happiness Island, the "Lethal Weapons Prohibition Order" was enforced. Unless he was an Elf... people from other races who even just stored or possessed firearms could be sentenced to over twenty years in prison!

Sweat immediately broke out on Russell's forehead.

He quickly latched the box shut, his voice becoming somewhat hurried, "I didn't see anything, there are no valuables in my luggage, you are free to look through it, and if there's anything I can help with, feel free to instruct me…"

"Don't be nervous… Russell."

The youth's puppy tail gently wagged as he pushed the box back with a smile, "There is no reverence in Chongguang Island, and Happiness Island is not at all blissful. I hope you realize this soon."

...Wait.

Russell realized something.

When had I ever introduced myself?

"My advice is that you'd better accept it."

The youth slowly said, "Because soon, it will come in handy."

Almost immediately as his words finished, Russell suddenly felt a wave of weakness and drowsiness. The intense paralyzing sensation made it impossible for him to stand or even speak; he could only breathe rapidly.

Russell widened his eyes and looked at the other person.

But he quickly realized that this couldn't possibly be the doing of this creepy-smiling bastard.

Because there was no need.

At that moment, a strange voice suddenly came through the room's speakers.

"Dear first-class passengers, I hope everyone can remain calm and listen carefully to what we are going to say next.

"We are Babel, and we have now taken control of the cockpit. Simply put, you are now our hostages."

It was an unabashed, malicious voice altered by some device.

Russell, however, realized something.

Why... did they declare their identity?

Amid the paralysis, the strange synthesized voice continued with some verbose words, "We have released a non-lethal virus that has temporarily taken away your ability to move.

"Next, you will have a good sleep. Of course, you might have a nightmare, but it will leave no aftereffects.

"You will recall memories that have been forgotten and erased, but there is no need for alarm; this is merely a setting to facilitate our retrieval. During this process, you will neither see our faces nor hear our voices, which is good for us and for you. All guests listening to this broadcast will not know whose memory we have stolen, so everyone just needs to keep silent to avoid being held accountable by the board of directors.

"Please be assured that we will leave no fingerprints or traces. And the memories you will recall are a gift to you.

"A... souvenir."

As the shrill, odd voice faded, Russell's mind raced.

He sensed a kind of dissonance.

But the more he thought about it, the stronger the drowsiness became.

Just then, the previously silenced speaker lit up again.

The voice, altered but recognizably from another person, spoke again: "Of course, my personal recommendation is that none of you admit to being hijacked to avoid suspicion from your superiors. This is for your own good."

—Another person?

Is it a group?

"Wait..."

Russell murmured.

He realized the true issue.

This couldn't be a simple case of memory theft.

He knew the name "Babel."

It was a well-known memory theft group.

But there was absolutely no need for them to declare their identity and purpose—what use was it knowing who they were?

The statement "Don't tell anyone you were hijacked" was completely redundant. They had no place to say that line, and it held no value.

Anyone with a slight bit of sense would realize... among these first-class passengers, if anyone did not conceal the truth and spoke out, then all other passengers trying to hide the truth would be more likely to be suspected and doubted.

He realized that he had been drawn into a conspiracy.

Russell struggled to open his eyes and looked towards Sir Big Door.

If he wasn't mistaken, this very dangerous individual was definitely not in league with the hijackers.

Could it be that he was prepared all along?

Or could it be... that he was here for this very reason?

Was he an agent for the Happiness Group, an Execution Officer, or was he... the real "Babel"?

"Shh..."

The youth revealed a bone-chilling smile, putting his finger to his lips in a silence gesture to Russell.

Then, he quietly stood behind the door, inserted a chip into his ear, and vanished in a wave of distortion.

While Russell felt increasingly drowsy and weak,

his personal operating system did not report any errors.

The chip at the back of his head seemed to detect nothing... It did not alert him of any breach, nor did it warn of poisoning or any abnormal health conditions. It just quietly watched him as he slowly lost the ability to resist.