Tower of Overturn

"'Nan Liujing' and 'Bad Day,' which would be more troublesome?"

Russell suddenly asked.

Admiring Russell's keenness, Bad Day nodded appreciatively, patted Russell on the head, and then stood up.

His tall figure cast a thick shadow in front of Russell, his mechanical eye reflecting a disquieting pale blue light.

"Those are completely different troubles. One is like a rotten apple, the other like a beautiful apple soaked in venom."

The hypocritical smile that always lingered on his face gradually faded and disappeared, leaving a residual glare as if looking into the sunlight, "If it were up to me, I'd choose the latter."

Russell's ears suddenly twitched.

It wasn't out of fear, but because he heard faint, sneaky footsteps coming from the hallway outside the door.

This had to be the accomplice of the head at his feet.

Seeing him enter this room a while ago and not yet having left or made contact ... thus they came to check and urge.

Pretty ... professional?

But before Russell could warn Bad Day about the person outside, Bad Day extended a finger, silently placing it to his lips.

Russell instantly understood.

If he could hear it, then Bad Day must have heard it too.

Dog's hearing isn't inferior to that of a cat.

Bad Day raised his right hand, showing Russell the "prop" held in his hand like a magician.

It was a data chip. Not the sophisticated kind implanted in everyone's brain... but more like a data expansion card used in phones or gaming consoles.

It was only the size of a fingertip, marked with an orange-yellow pattern, glowing green.

"Let me give you a lesson, Russell ... this is your first lesson on Happiness Island."

Bad Day didn't deliberately suppress his voice, so the footsteps outside suddenly ceased.

But he merely inserted it into the chip port behind his ear.

The deep blue light in his eyes was momentarily covered by an orange-yellow glow.

Just then, the sound of a card swiping came again from the door.

The first-class cabin's security code was as if nothing— armed criminals intended to open the door with a staff card, just like the previous guy.

Russell tried to stay calm, looking towards the door as his slightly bristled tail raised high.

He was ready to roll to the side to dodge bullets at the slightest sound or if the door opened.

However—

A slight ripple, like static electricity, wrapped around Russell's body, sending a chill down his spine.

"Bang!"

"Crash!"

The next moment, Russell clearly heard continuous sounds similar to glass shattering and a man's cry of pain from outside.

"—If you want to kill someone, the first thing you should do is blow up all the surrounding surveillance cameras."

He said, tilting his head slightly, removing the chip from behind his ear, and replacing it with another, green-colored one.

Although Bad Day hadn't turned around yet, Russell could clearly see that the used chip's green light had turned into a flickering red light.

... What was that?

A one-time magic scroll ... or something of that sort?

Just then, the door opened.

A masked man with a shattered left-side lens, bleeding, and another well-equipped, masked man with curved horns on his head rushed in together.

Their prone-spiritual features were well hidden, making it difficult to discern their race. Russell wasn't experienced enough to determine their race just from their horns.

Just like he had prepared earlier—he immediately dove to the side and hid himself in the shadow of the already tilting table.

And the opponent did not disappoint Russell.

Although they didn't use grenades, they opened fire on the room as soon as they opened the door.

However, their bullets didn't harm Bad Day, who was facing away from them, in the slightest.

A hemispherical barrier, like a shield, covered him and Russell. When the bullets approached, they refracted around—cracking the reinforced windows of the room densely. The walls, adorned with expensive artworks, instantly became riddled with holes. Paintings and sculptures were shredded by the metal storm.

The next moment, a small hole was blown in the window—from the outside, the intense suction instantly shattered the glass, and the room was struck as if by a hurricane. Russell instinctively lay down on the floor, gripping the corner of the overturned tea table, able to lean against the heavy table so as not to get sucked out.

The box that had stored the portable shotgun was also sucked out of the window in the chaotic storm.

Still, the gunfire did not stop.

Because the two mercenaries knew that the temporary Spiritual Energy obtained using a one-time memory chip couldn't last long. And the flying altitude of the airship wasn't as high as the "commercial airliners" in Russell's memory, so even if the window was shattered, it wouldn't cause too rapid a drop in temperature and oxygen.

But in such a case, once shot, the blood would be sucked out.

"... moving on to the second point."

In the deafening sound of gunfire and wind, Bad Day's white hair wildly fluttered with the wind.

With his back to the attackers and facing the shattered window, his voice, calm amidst the raging winds, became as light as a whisper, "If you can't completely hide your presence and leave the scene unnoticed, then at least prepare evidence to prove your innocence beforehand.

"Just like now—once the opponent has used lethal weapons, you gain the right to use cold weapons to strike back indefinitely. These are the rules applicable on Happiness Island.

"And once the opponent's actions have posed an urgent threat to multiple targets...

"Even if you kill them, you won't be arrested by the main company, and might even be commended. These are the rules applicable on every Sky Island."

—Rules.

Nothing more than rules.

The giant dragon doesn't allow Elves to enact "real" laws that would apply to everyone. "Corporate Law" established by each Sky Island's main company is only effective among the company's and its numerous subsidiaries' employees.

These mercenary outlaws wouldn't care nor could they be sanctioned—in the end, they had already lost their citizen rights after losing their identification code. As long as they were arrested, they could be expelled from the Floating Island.

Banished to lands filled with radiation and curses or simply thrown into the sea. Either way, the end was the same.

However, even so, random "murder" without any cause was not allowed.

In the end... in such a world with no government, no nation, no military, no law.

Everything relies only on "rules."

Flexible rules. Rigid rules.

Rules that have never been changed. Rules that change every day.

Bad Day calmly pulled out a handle from his chest.

There was no blade or guard, just a short plain handle.

It couldn't even be considered a "broken sword," because it lacked the slightest bit of a steel blade, being completely made of wood.

From any angle, it appeared entirely non-lethal, its only purpose seemed to be to hypnotize oneself into thinking "I am holding a weapon."

"Because people will call such a person…"

"—a 'Hero.'"

He said softly.

"It's not the main company, not the Elves, and certainly not the dragons who grant the title 'Hero' and the right to exoneration—it's the media.

"It's newspapers. It's the public. It's public opinion.

"It's the voice of the people—

"The main company will never send the Execution Department to arrest a 'Hero'; instead, they might award the 'Hero' commendations and an attractive deal, allowing him to become a celebrity and join the Execution Department... as long as he remains a 'Hero.'

As Bad Day spoke, his lips curled into a scornful smile: "After all, this era is so devoid of heroes.

"You just asked me if I would let you take the fall. My answer is, yes and no.

"—Come become a hero, Russell."

With that, he raised the handle of the bladeless sword high.

Not toward the mercenaries behind him.

But toward Russell, and brought the sword down.