Chapter 112: Refusal and Missed Opportunities

Thud!

The heavy doors slammed shut, cutting off Charles's view of the interior. Yet, that fleeting glimpse had been enough for him to grasp the reality of the place. The colossal chamber was densely packed with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of cylindrical containers, each clearly housing a human being. The sight instantly brought to mind a certain science fiction film.

In that movie, machines constructed a vast virtual world, lulling human consciousness into a deep immersion where they perceived the simulation as reality. In truth, however, humanity lay dormant in nutrient pods, farmed like livestock by their mechanical overlords. The memory of those towering, wall-to-ceiling arrays of pods, tended by mechanical limbs that deposited newborn infants into fresh chambers, sent a chill down his spine.

"It is obvious. This must be the eighth level of the central laboratory, the site for human experimentation. Leslie’s clones were cultivated here, as were the clones of numerous evolved warriors."

Charles did not pause, his expression remaining impassive, but he had already etched the location of this place deep into his memory. According to the future history he knew, it was precisely here that Leslie would eventually reach his breaking point, triggering a super-evolution to become the world’s sole humanoid disaster-class beast.

However, that day was still a year away.

Charles stepped into a laboratory where several specimens were on display—a hairless monkey, a grotesque brown crab, and others. The air hung heavy with the scent of blood.

"Charles, what do you think of this academy?" Garfield asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I love it here. One can learn anything they desire; to me, this place is an inexhaustible treasure trove. Honestly, I deeply admire the Dean for creating an institution of such epochal significance. He has brought out the Spirit Masters who once worked in isolation, allowing them to research together and thereby propel the progress of history itself..."

Charles launched into a lengthy, unhesitating discourse, every word of which was heartfelt. In his eyes, Morrent was the most unreasonable existence in the world, a system that sat centuries ahead of its time. They said that to be half a step ahead was genius, and a full step was madness—but Morrent was far beyond a single step. It was little wonder they faced hostility from both the great empires and numerous kingdoms across the world.

"Excellent. Would you like to work here?"

Looking at the expectant gaze of the other man, Charles shook his head gently. "I am sorry, Teacher. I must return home in a few days. My father’s illness has not yet fully recovered, and I must go back to see him cured. I cannot stay here for long."

This was the absolute core of the academy. Countless students would break their necks for a chance to get in; anyone else hearing his refusal would surely deem him a fool for throwing away such a monumental opportunity. But he had no choice—time was running out, and he could not afford to linger. In less than a month, he would leave Morrent. Before that, he had to acquire all the necessary knowledge and secure enough resources to perfect his core designs.

"Oh, I see. Very well, finish your work here and call someone when you are done." Garfield said no more, turning and walking away. Clearly, he could not fathom Charles's reasoning, nor why he would so easily cast aside an opportunity he had fought so hard to secure.

The annual quota for the central laboratory was fixed, as entry was equivalent to becoming a core member of the academy, granting access to luxurious benefits—purchasing top-tier rune factories for a few thousand gold coins, or commissioning the cultivation of elite totem beasts. As a third-tier expert, Garfield had only a few recommendations to give, and he had saved this final one for his most brilliant student.

And yet, the boy had refused.

Watching Garfield’s back disappear, Charles knew he had deeply disappointed his mentor, but he felt not a hint of regret. After all, he had already quietly mastered all the core knowledge the man possessed, and had done so with greater proficiency. In fact, Charles was tempted to lure Garfield to Flashgold Town—a gesture of gratitude for his tutelage. In the future he knew, he had seen no mention of this man; it was likely he had perished early on, long before the rise of the destined heroes. As for how to persuade him, that would require the right opportunity—a plan Charles was already silently formulating.

***

Meanwhile, in the city outside the academy, night had begun to fall, and the street food stalls were growing increasingly crowded. Men and women, exhausted from a full day’s toil, gathered to reward themselves with a simple meal. Among them was a striking young couple.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, carrying an air of formidable, unapproachable strength that drew many eyes. The girl, sweet and delicate, wore a radiant, happy smile. She picked up a skewer and held it to the man’s lips, saying softly, "Come on, open up."

The man smiled helplessly, bit off a large piece of meat, and swallowed it after a casual chew. He reached out with his large hand, picked up a skewer, and held it to her fair hand. "Bella, you eat too. Don't worry about me."

"No, you feed me," the girl giggled, her voice carrying a playful, spoiled tone.

"Alright, alright, I'll feed you!" The man’s eyes were filled with doting affection.

Ever since they had confirmed their relationship a few days ago, their bond had intensified rapidly. They wanted to be together every spare moment, coming dangerously close to crossing the final line. Fortunately, he had restrained himself at the last moment, as the girl wished to wait until their wedding day. For the person he held closest to his heart, he refused to let her feel the slightest grievance, even if it meant suffering in silence—the agony of having such a fragrant, lovely girl within reach but unable to touch was a torment known only to him.

After the meal, they walked hand-in-hand toward their residence. To enjoy their time alone, they chose a secluded, less-traveled path. With the man’s formidable strength, even a walk through the forest at night was nothing more than a stroll.

"With such pathetic strength, you really are trash."

Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice from the distance. A loud boom echoed, and a man with blood-red hair emerged from around the corner. Seeing him, the man instantly pulled the girl behind him, his face tightening with wariness.

"What a pity. I cannot act against you just yet. I will let you live a few more days." The stranger, dressed in a magnificent white-gold suit, casually removed his gloves, tossed them aside, and departed without a sound.

"Who was that?" the girl asked softly.

"It’s nothing, just a formidable opponent." The man smiled to reassure her, leading her away. As they left, he noticed several figures in black robes walking toward the site of the earlier explosion...