The moment the bald man fell to the ground, everyone in the banquet hall suddenly froze.
Absolutely no one expected Asahi to attack, let alone attack so decisively. It was too fast; no one could react in time.
In fact, even if he had announced it beforehand, it would have been useless, as the bodyguards couldn't be faster than his speed.
The rattling sound echoed throughout the room—nothing else but the sound of guns being cocked and aimed directly at Asahi. He paid little attention, his entire body transforming into an afterimage that vanished from everyone's sight.
Gunshots and screams of terror occurred almost simultaneously. He was too fast; his speed was faster than sound. In an instant, he had subdued all the bodyguards and security. The guests, seeing this, fearfully huddled together. No one dared to scream anymore, and no simpleton jumped out to question why he did it.
Because it was meaningless.
If a person dared to act, and you naively questioned them, were you tired of living?
They were indeed lambs compared to Asahi, but to some extent, they could be considered experienced. At least they had the ability to observe the situation.
Furthermore, Asahi hadn't killed anyone. Otherwise, the people who fell would not just be the bald old man and the unconscious soldiers, but piles of shredded meat.
Indeed, if he wanted to kill, merely using his speed to pierce through each person would be enough to shatter flesh and bone.
At this moment, the large screen above the hall, behind the banquet table, suddenly turned on.
The scene contained on the screen was the front of a desk, entirely dark, but the dim light emanating from it still allowed vague outlines to be perceived, forming the shape of a person with hands clasped together, resting their chin on the table.
It was like a gray sketch on black paper.
"So, that foolish plan of his was proposed by you?"
Asahi stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his arrogant stance directed straight at the screen.
Although his tone sounded like a question, his words were firm and beyond doubt. The mysterious person behind the screen chuckled softly, unable to help clapping their hands in applause.
"Worthy of your name... though you don't act like a monarch at all, the eyes cannot be fooled."
Asahi fundamentally ignored the opponent's sarcasm about whether he resembled a monarch. This was actually something that could be seen with a bit of attention and knowledge. Of course, fundamentally, no one dared to gesticulate about this in front of him.
This person was the same, only daring to hide somewhere. Shrouding their identity in darkness, their voice also distorted, making it impossible to determine either their age or gender.
What he cared about more was the purpose of all this.
"Judging by the reactions of those people, they shouldn't know of your existence. And that bald old man was just a pawn subtly pushed forward. So why are you showing yourself?"
"A good question. Why indeed?"
The mysterious person pondered for a moment, then laughed and said.
"Because I couldn't resist."
That's right, the person couldn't resist, because the "Silver King" was truly too similar, too similar to the masterpiece in their imagination, even surpassing it.
Speed, strength, reaction, control... all were extraordinarily perfect. Compared to the Silver King, the mechanized warrior—half-human, half-machine—even their proudest creation, was no different from a pile of trash when placed side-by-side.
Faced with a creation seemingly sculpted by the gods, what scientist could possibly resist?
Asahi frowned, but before he could pose another question, the mysterious person continued speaking.
"This place has been buried with an extremely powerful bomb. Enough to collapse this entire location and bury it permanently underground."
"Of course, this is probably not an issue for you, Silver King, and you can simply dust off your hands and leave, letting those fat officials be buried down here."
The mysterious person's words caused the silent hall to erupt in chaos. Not a few people fearfully collapsed onto the floor. A few smarter ones seized the opportunity to bolt out of the banquet hall, only to discover that the solid iron door outside had been locked at some point.
That door had once made them feel completely safe, but now it was nothing less than a rock crushing their last hope.
No one felt that the mysterious person was lying, because such elaborate arrangements could not be made just for a lie.
"I... I don't want to die!"
Everyone who could stand here was either high-ranking or wealthy. The desire for survival was only high, not low. After realizing that escape was futile, many people directly abandoned their dignity, running over to kneel and beg Asahi to save them. Resources, money, power—all could be offered to him, even loyalty.
Faced with all this, Asahi remained motionless, like a boulder quietly standing on a cliff face. He was waiting for the next sentence from the person behind the black screen.
"But you will certainly save these people. Because there is more than just them here."
"Behind this area is the place where these wealthy people are keeping Cursed Children captive. You will probably understand when you see it, and the bomb is located right there."
"Perhaps that is enough. Farewell, Silver King. We will certainly meet again."
The screen abruptly turned off after the final words were spoken.
Asahi did not assume the mysterious person had stopped watching; it was highly likely he was still observing from some hidden device from beginning to end.
However, he didn't have time to pay attention to this.
Asahi headed toward the back of the banquet hall, tearing apart the barrier door in front of him with one hand, revealing the scene inside.
It was an extremely large area, perhaps double the size of the banquet hall. However, unlike the hall, which was exquisitely decorated and designed, this place was the complete opposite.
Grimy gray walls enclosed an octagonal arena. The floor surface was covered with countless layers of old and new bloodstains overlapping each other.
Upon seeing it, he instantly knew.
They brought the children into the arena and forced them to fight to the death.
It was descriptive, and utterly raw.
Inside Asahi, a torrent of negative and dark emotions shook violently. They poured countless insane thoughts into his mind.
Kill them all, destroy them all, annihilate everything.
Not for justice, not for fairness, and not for goodness. But merely for satisfaction, for release.
But he suppressed it all.
This was not his purpose for coming to this world, nor was it his purpose for standing here.
Asahi moved in, seeing many Cursed Children locked inside cages. All were lying motionless, a few barely weakly conscious. The reason was that the iron cages holding the children were laced with Varanium. The magnetic field emanating from this metal was nothing less than a form of radiation for entities carrying the Gastrea virus.
It was precisely because of this that the Cursed Children here became extremely weak, unable to escape.
He also saw the bomb. It was not small at all and was set up on the structural framework supporting the entire facility. Any interference was impossible, because even the slightest movement would detonate it.
Observing from behind, the mysterious person watched carefully. Because Asahi's choice this time would greatly determine the method they would use to deal with the Silver King in the future.