Chương 64: C-19

[Time limit: fifteen minutes.] The blood-colored fine words remained in his palm for two breaths, then shrank back beneath his skin. Rowan finished reading the contents out of the corner of his eye. He picked up the cold-food platter and continued walking along the outer ring of the central exhibition hall. There were even more people in front of The Boundless Martial Diagram now. After the first batch of viewers stepped down, the second batch of young Tier 1s was quickly guided forward.

Some had pale faces, some were breathing rapidly, and some were arguing in low voices about what exactly they had just seen. Vann stood outside the viewing line, the thin control panel in his hand remaining lit the whole time. But his gaze had already crossed the queue more than once, landing on that dark scroll. What was displayed on the twelfth floor was only a projection.

The true original was on a higher floor, belonging to those Tier 2 VIPs, consortium representatives, and the people the Hill family truly wanted to meet. But for the people on the twelfth floor, even the projection was already precious enough. When Rowan passed by him, Vann was still staring at the scroll. A temporary attendant carrying a cold-food platter, with a clear number and a route that had not crossed any boundaries, was not worth an extra glance from him at a time like this.

Rowan placed a plate of sliced white meat onto the chilled counter. A pale-blue prompt surfaced on his wristband. [C-39, replenishment complete.] [Next replenishment round: in three minutes.] Three minutes. Rowan withdrew his hand. The fifteen-minute time limit was counting down. Although he did not know what would happen if the time limit expired before he completed the task. Perhaps it would be declared a failure. Perhaps the drop-off location would be changed. But Rowan had no intention of giving up.

After all, this location was extremely suitable for his current work. Twenty-first floor, collection maintenance area, bottom level of Cold Cabinet C-19. It was not within his service range. More troublesome still, this task might not have been meant to fall on him in the first place. He had impersonated Grey Raven. The risk was not small. So he had to make the completion of the task look as if it had not been completed by him.

Starlight Tower's access control would not care what he was thinking, but it would care where he stepped. Unauthorized floors, the depths of the maintenance area, VIP elevators, collection passages. As soon as he touched any of those boundaries, a warning would fall immediately. Rowan looked toward the central exhibition hall. There were too many people there. Young Tier 1s, guides, security, Vann, consortium heirs, and those people looking toward the scroll through the semi-transparent curtain.

Everyone's attention was focused there. The time given by the Gray Chrysalis was not long. But the more that was true, the less he could afford to rush. He carried the empty plate back toward Service Corridor Three. Just as he reached the side-corridor entrance, a temporary attendant carrying a water tray squeezed over from beside him. The number on the other person's chest was C-38. He looked two or three years older than Rowan, with excitement still not fully suppressed on his face.

His gaze kept drifting toward The Boundless Martial Diagram.

"I really envy you." Rowan's steps paused slightly. C-38 lowered his voice, as if afraid Vann would hear him, yet also as if he simply could not suppress that thought.

"You're so close to The Boundless Martial Diagram." Rowan glanced at him. C-38's gaze passed over him and landed on the dark scroll in the center.

"I just heard a guest say someone saw a complete fist art. And there was a saber user whose hands were shaking." At this point, his Adam's apple moved.

"If the Hill family really takes notice of someone…" He did not finish the second half. The meaning was already very clear. Rowan turned his eyes slightly and saw that Vann was still standing outside the viewing line. Over there, a young Tier 1 had just raised a hand to support his forehead, as if his mental sea had been stabbed. Vann's attention was immediately drawn over. The central exhibition hall was very lively. So lively that everyone felt they might be able to get a little something from it.

Rowan withdrew his gaze.

"There's a lot to do on this side." C-38 froze for a moment. Rowan lifted the empty plate slightly.

"And it's noisy." The way C-38 looked at him changed. It was like looking at an idiot.

"What about your side?" Rowan asked.

"Me?" C-38 came back to himself.

"Side corridor. There aren't many people. A few mental display stands, and I just watch the probe mirrors while I'm at it. It's easy enough, but…" He glanced again at The Boundless Martial Diagram. The corner of Rowan's mouth curved slightly.

"Then? Swap for two rounds?" C-38's eyes visibly lit up.

"You're really willing to swap?"

"Two rounds," Rowan said.

"Too long won't work."

"Of course." C-38 immediately said, "We're just helping each other out. Vann won't care about this." After saying that, he hurriedly added, The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"There's nothing complicated on my side either. Come with me, and I'll explain it once." The two of them walked along the edge of the service corridor toward the side corridor. It was much quieter there than in the central exhibition hall. The lighting was also colder. Three independent display niches were embedded in the wall, each covered by a faint transparent protective shield. In front of the shields were small cold-water counters and several portions of low-temperature snacks that almost no one had touched.

Compared with The Boundless Martial Diagram, this place was so deserted it felt like another venue entirely. C-38 quickly walked to the first display niche and pointed it out to Rowan.

"This side is for the mental display stands. There's not much to see with the naked eye. They're mainly for Tier 2 mages." Rowan looked toward the display niche. A pale-gray image hung inside. Like fog. Or like a piece of glass that had not been wiped clean. He could not make out anything at all. C-38 clearly could not either, and there was some regret in his tone.

"To really see it clearly, you need to externalize your mental domain."

"But Tier 1 Single-Phase people like us don't have that ability. We can only send a bit of Mental Power into the probe mirror and borrow it to see a little." Rowan looked at him.

"Probe mirror?"

"Mental Power Probe Mirror," C-38 said.

"A mana-conductive tool. It's not a mental domain. It just temporarily amplifies the bit of Mental Power you send in and forms a viewing aperture facing the display niche." He curled his lip.

"It's useless once it leaves the display stand, and you can't look for very long either. After a few uses, the mana inside runs empty and it has to be replaced." He opened the drawer beneath the service counter. Inside lay several thin silver-gray mirrors, along with two recovery boxes that were already showing yellow lights.

"I didn't have time to replace these two just now." C-38 first pointed to the one on the left.

"This one is for The Tower in the Mist." Then he pointed to the far right.

"This one is for Whispers of the Starry Sky. Sounds pretty mysterious. Anyway, I don't understand it." Rowan's gaze landed on the recovery box at the far right. Cold-white words floated along the edge of the box lid. [Mental Power Probe Mirror Recovery Box] [Archive location: 21F collection maintenance area] [Cold cabinet number: C-19] [Layer position: bottom level] C-38 said, "Put the used-up probe mirrors back into the boxes, then replace them with new ones.

Send both boxes to the recovery port in Service Corridor Three, and they'll be uniformly recharged with the next batch." He paused.

"Just don't mix them up." Rowan looked toward the third display niche. The nameplate read: [Whispers of the Starry Sky] There was no starry sky inside the display niche. Only a purple cube suspended within the transparent protective shield. The surface of the cube was flat to an almost eerie degree, like dark-purple mist that had been compressed into solid form. Rowan could not hear any so-called whisper, and as for the starry sky, he had even less of a clue.

He only saw the cold-white interface at the bottom of the display stand, the probe mirror rack, and the recovery box beneath the service counter marked C-19. C-19. Deep in his palm, something like a fine thread tightened gently. C-38 handed the water tray to him.

"Just two rounds."

"Mm."

"If anyone asks, just say I went to replenish the central chilled counter."

"Okay." C-38 was already somewhat unable to wait. He carried Rowan's original empty plate and walked toward the central exhibition hall. He kept his steps very steady. But his shoulders were still a little lighter than before. Rowan watched him squeeze into the edge of the crowd. When he had been observing the situation just now, he had already set his sights on this guy. Strictly speaking, there were chances to act through food delivery on his own side too, but everyone's attention was concentrated there.

Making small movements lightly would make it very easy to be caught out. Moreover, he still had a mark that might belong to a cult. That was not something to play around with. Rowan lowered his eyes and began tidying the cold-water counter in the side corridor. The service terminal issued no warning. There was no prompt for route deviation either. In Starlight Tower's system, he was still a temporary attendant who had not crossed any boundaries, had not released mana, and had not touched any exhibit.

He had merely walked from one chilled counter to another. Two minutes later, a middle-aged man in a dark-blue formal suit stopped in front of Whispers of the Starry Sky. There was some distance between him and Rowan. But Rowan felt the surrounding air quiet for an instant. The restless mana nearby seemed to be soothed with the man as its center. It was more like something finer and colder spread from beside the man, then was gently gathered into the protective shield before the display niche. Tier 2.

The man's gaze did not fall on the surface of the purple cube. Instead, it seemed to pass through that cube and look toward some very distant place. Rowan lowered his head and looked beneath the service counter. The prompt light on the edge of the probe mirror recovery box for Whispers of the Starry Sky had already turned from blue to pale yellow. [Please replace.] [Destination: 21F-C-19.] He took out a new Mental Power Probe Mirror.

The thin silver-gray mirror was only as long as a finger joint, and a ring of extremely fine mana-conductive patterns was embedded around its edge. The used-up one was placed in the probe mirror rack on the right side of the display stand. The mirror surface had already gone dark, with only a little pale-purple glow still lingering at the edge. Rowan crouched down, his movements neither fast nor slow. He first wiped the condensation from the edge of the base. Then he pressed the latch.

The used-up probe mirror slid half an inch out of the rack. The man in the dark-blue formal suit was still standing before the display niche. His mental domain was being held by that purple cube, like an invisible current of water being gathered into a narrow opening. Rowan pulled out the old probe mirror and inserted the new one into the rack. A green light came on. [Probe mirror available.] He turned and opened the C-19 recovery box.

There was a thin layer of soft padding inside the box, with two used-up probe mirrors already locked into it. At the instant the third probe mirror was pressed into the slot, Rowan's left fingertips flipped slightly. The redacted crystal disk slid along the bottom of the box and was pinned beneath the bottom layer of soft padding. The box lid closed. Only the extremely faint click of the recovery box latch locking into place sounded. [Recovery confirmed.] [Please send to the recovery port in Service Corridor Three.] Rowan followed the same process and replaced the probe mirror for The Tower in the Mist as well. He placed both recovery boxes into the bottom layer of the water tray. This made it look even more like an ordinary replacement. The man in the dark-blue formal suit was still looking at the purple cube. Rowan picked up the water tray and retreated half a step from behind him. No one looked at him. Or rather, even if they saw him, they would not care.

A temporary attendant had replaced two used-up probe mirrors. That was one of the most ordinary things on the twelfth floor tonight. At the end of Service Corridor Three was a recovery port half a person tall. Rowan pushed the two recovery boxes in one after another. The first was The Tower in the Mist. The second was Whispers of the Starry Sky. His wristband trembled lightly.

[Mental Power Probe Mirror Recovery Box: Whispers of the Starry Sky] [Destination: 21F collection maintenance area] [Storage layer position: bottom level of Cold Cabinet C-19] [Estimated arrival: four minutes and twenty seconds] The recovery port closed. The silver-gray box was silently swallowed into the wall. Rowan remained in the side corridor for another two minutes. He had no intention of responding to the Gray Chrysalis immediately. He needed to make this matter into an ordinary recovery.

At least judging from the records, C-39 had merely sent away two used-up probe mirror recovery boxes on behalf of a fellow attendant in the same group. Otherwise, as soon as the organization on the other side verified it, they would immediately be able to lock his true identity down to a very small range. Replenish water. Tidy the cold food. Straighten the cup rack beside C-17 that had been knocked crooked by a guest.

Only then did he pick up the empty plate and return along the original route to the central exhibition hall. Another batch of people had already changed places in front of The Boundless Martial Diagram. C-38 stood at the edge of the crowd, holding the cold-food platter, yet his eyes had almost never left that dark scroll. Vann was also watching. Rowan walked back to his original chilled counter.

"How was it?" C-38 asked in a low voice, his eyes still bright.

"No one there," Rowan said.

"I told you." C-38 handed the plate back to him, his voice a little drifting.

"Your side really is different." Rowan took his own plate. The two of them switched back to their original positions. Rowan waited thirty breaths. Then another thirty breaths. He delivered a new platter of cold food to the west side of the outer ring, was stopped by a young woman, and changed a non-alcoholic cold drink for her. When he passed the viewing line, Rad was frowning, as if still thinking about what he had seen earlier. Noah stood beside the queue.

His face was paler than before, but his voice was still fairly steady. Julian had already withdrawn from the viewing area, his expression not very satisfied. Cecilia stood farther away, her fingertips lightly touching the wall of her glass. Rowan lowered his right hand. There was no reaction in his palm. C-19. Twenty-first-floor collection maintenance area. If someone wanted to retrieve the item, someone should move. Rowan began watching the elevators. The VIP elevator did not descend.

The maintenance elevator did not open. No new personnel entered the side corridor. Vann was still on the twelfth floor. The positions of the black-clad security guards had not changed either. Most of the Tier 2 VIPs had already gone to the higher floors. Those who remained on the twelfth floor were either watching the projection or perfunctorily exchanging pleasantries with the young Tier 1s. No one left. No one went upstairs. Nor did anyone approach the side corridor.

Rowan carried the platter and made another circuit. Deep in his palm, that bit of blood-colored thread moved gently again. Using the motion of placing empty cups onto the recovery tray as cover, he lowered his right hand. Extremely fine words floated up between the lines of his palm. [Ring Finger-7.] [Status confirmation?] Rowan's fingertips drew slightly inward. Recalling the situation last time, he pressed the message into the Gray Chrysalis mark. [Delivered.] The words scattered.

This time, his palm remained quiet for a long while. Long enough that the third batch of viewers had already stepped down. Vann began urging the cold-food group to replenish the final round. Rowan still did not see anyone go to the twenty-first floor. It was not until he carried the final cold-food platter past the entrance to Service Corridor Three that his palm suddenly itched. It was not the same stabbing itch as when the task had just been issued.

The blood-colored granulation once again surfaced stroke by stroke. [Mission item received.] Rowan's steps remained steady. He carried the tray and calmly walked into the outer ring of the exhibition hall. Behind him, the dark scroll in the center was still flowing silently. Everyone on the twelfth floor was watching it. During this time, another thing had already vanished from C-19.