"Ms. Jane." The man's expression was respectful.
He didn't hide himself from the woman, knowing it was a futile effort. Her eyes, which had weathered a century of change, could easily see through everything he was.
The woman was a member of the blood spirit race who had lived for over a hundred years. Theoretically, as long as she wished, she could remain forever young and possess an endless lifespan through a blood spirit conversion ritual.
This wasn't difficult for them; the ritual required some precious medicinal herbs, the essence blood of their kin, and the souls of a few unlucky bastards.
By allowing herself to age and wither, it was clear that the woman before him had long since transcended the lowliest of pursuits—primitive desires.
"Hehe, you and I are both members of the board of directors now. There's no need to lower yourself so much in my presence," the woman said in a kind tone.
Ayin Winter didn't speak, but simply took a step forward to push open the mahogany doors for her.
The families of Universal Heavy Industries held two seats on the board of directors: Withered-Flower and the Winter family.
As the family's diplomatic representative, he was certainly not so foolishly arrogant as to think he held the same status as a member of the blood spirit race who had lived for over a century. She was one of the original practitioners of the Star of Art and a contemporary of Belvedere. Her hundred-year lifespan gave her connections, resources, and a social status that far surpassed his own.
On the surface, his status was the same as the woman's—both were elders—but in reality, he merely represented the Winter family.
The seat belonged to the Winter family, not to him, whereas the woman before him was a true elder and a lawmaker for the Star of Art.
In other words, his every move represented the face and interests of his family. One misstep in this vortex of power, and he would be replaced at any moment, plunged into the abyss.
The two entered deep into the room, the sound of their boots echoing against the floor.
A giant tree grew in the deepest part of the room. Pale light spilled from the ceiling, casting diagonal rays onto the tree.
Branches split off from it to envelop the entire room, and mysterious, ancient patterns flowed across the surface of the giant tree.
Five branches represented five seats, each corresponding to a family crest behind it.
They were Winter, Withered-Flower, Hamlet, Sonnet, and... the Divine Comedy, located at the very center.
Ayin looked up. A man with deep-sunken eyes sat before the crest of the Divine Comedy, half of his face hidden in the shadows.
His already pale skin looked sickly under the light. He didn't speak or move; he simply sat there, radiating an invisible aura that made the atmosphere oppressive.
Belvedere, the owner of the Starry Gallery, the principal of the Starry Art Academy, an original practitioner, and the true master of this world of ice and snow.
Ayin withdrew his gaze, not daring to maintain eye contact with the man, and kept his humble posture.
"It seems everyone has arrived."
"Then, let us begin."
Belvedere waved his hand, and the giant tree grew thick branches that extended toward Ayin like a slowly opening palm.
"Ayin, I didn't expect the Winter family to send you to represent them on the board of directors after Diesel. I thought the family had been shamed enough because of you."
"I was wondering, just what kind of magic does a woman who's already had a child possess to fascinate you so, making you devoted to her and even willing to give up your inheritance as the head of the family?"
Before the crest of Withered-Flower, a skeletal man whose entire face was bathed in darkness spoke with cold mockery.
"The inheritance has nothing to do with her; it was my personal choice. I cannot bring myself to do things like turning against old friends, slaughtering my own kin, or poisoning my own brother for the sake of power."
Ayin sat in his seat, his tone unfluctuating.
"You!" The skeletal man's eyes widened. Before he could say another word, a majestic shout echoed through the room.
"Silence."
A sudden pressure, like an invisible wall, bore down from above!
The two closed their mouths and turned their gazes to the seat in front of the Hamlet crest, which was empty.
A burly figure appeared behind the principal at some unknown moment, clad in heavy armor. A powerful aura emanated from the vertical slits of his knight's helmet. The meteorite hammer held in both hands touched the floor, sending out ripples like water. The seemingly calm waves carried destructive energy.
The paintings hanging on the walls shook, and the giant tree let out a low groan.
"The self-annihilator..." Ayin and the man from the Withered-Flower family said simultaneously.
Benson Hamlet. They knew very little about this family head, only that he was also a person of the old era whose soul was imprisoned within that immortal armor. That meteorite hammer, representing destruction, was enough to crush anything. He was the first tuner, presiding over survival and annihilation.
No one knew his true strength, and no one had ever seen him fight. Perhaps everyone who had seen that meteorite hammer strike had already been obliterated by its power.
"Why be so serious? Young people are full of vigor; isn't it good to have some vitality? It's quite interesting to hear them bicker, isn't it?" Jane chuckled.
She narrowed her eyes and looked at the figure in the center. Under the pale light, the dark red in the man's eyes grew deeper.
The man didn't speak, but simply turned to the next page of the book in his hand.
The man in the armor withdrew his gaze, and only then did the oppressive atmosphere in the room ease slightly.
"Diesel is dead," Belvedere said.
His low voice made Ayin hold his breath.
"Does the family have anything they wish to say?"
He didn't look up, still flipping through the pages of his book, yet everyone's eyes in the room fell on Ayin at once.
Ayin felt the pressure increase instantly, but recalling the instructions his family had given him, he forced himself to speak. "The family hopes the academy will investigate this matter thoroughly. At the very least, the academy must find the mastermind behind this. Also, the family wants custody of the man named Von Jay, who launched this attack."
"He's already dead," Belvedere said.
"The tuners on the scene have confirmed it. He had a bomb planted in his own body and chose to self-destruct when he had no other way out."
Ayin hesitated, his throat moving slightly.
He knew very well that there was more to this. The academy had cordoned off the scene before the Winter family arrived, as if they were deliberately hiding something.
By the time the family's people arrived, the scene had already been mostly cleaned up by the academy. No information could be gathered, and Von Jay could no longer testify.
However, Lancelot had checked the scene. Ayin remembered clearly that the man had told him personally that Von Jay was definitely not dead. No human tissue had been collected at the scene. In other words, the self-destruction was merely a means of escape, and there must have been someone at the scene helping him conceal that fact!
This meant someone from the academy was in league with the Ascetic Sect. This was a targeted murder aimed at the Winter family.
Feeling the gaze of the man in the armor, he chewed up his words and swallowed them.
Now was not the time to start a conflict. He couldn't reveal the critical information that 'no human tissue from Von Jay was found,' as that would be equivalent to pushing Lancelot into the spotlight.
The factions present at the scene were the Fixer Association, Life Daybreak, and the academy.
The only ones who would have focused on investigating Von Jay's whereabouts in such a chaotic situation would naturally be the people specifically sent by the academy to seal off the scene. Those people were Belvedere's trusted aides; it would be easy to trace it back to Lancelot.
The academy would never tolerate their student council president having private contact with a family. The struggle had already begun, and there was no telling how far it would evolve. He had to hold onto the trump card that was Lancelot.
He said, "Then what explanation does the academy intend to give the family?"
"Diesel's prestige within the Winter family was not low. Is this matter simply going to be turned over like this?"
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