Chapter Fifty-One: A Surprise

When Faeron returned to the Ninth District with the others, it was already the morning of the third day. Seizing the node and repelling the Federation army’s attack had brought considerable gains, yet for the Blackstone Group, digesting these advantages was no easy task. First, all surrendered soldiers had to be detained, and then, depending on their circumstances, it would be decided whether they would become slaves or servants. Next, the construction of defense works in the node control zone needed to be expedited. Though the mutated beasts and zombies had retreated from this area, no one could be certain whether other creatures lurking deep within the ruins might stir. Under such conditions, building robust fortifications was, naturally, a matter of utmost importance.

Upon their return, Faeron sent the three sisters to complete the procedures for residency in the Ninth District. Although Chris, Eluca, and Corona ultimately chose to stay by his side, Faeron had no intention of letting them relinquish the benefits of being honorary citizens. He was not one to let go of what had already fallen into his hands. After a brief review, the Blackstone Group approved their applications, which meant that, from today onward, they would be legally protected "upper class" members of the Ninth District.

"Is that really all?"

Eluca stared at the staff member taking her black card, swiping it through the reader as streams of green data appeared and vanished. For a moment, she was dumbfounded. She instinctively accepted the stamped list, but had no idea what to do next.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"

Faeron, sitting nearby, chuckled as he watched Eluca's bewilderment. Hearing his voice, Eluca lowered her head, gazing at the paper in her hands with a complex expression. After a long silence, she finally spoke.

"It's not that there's a problem, Commander... It's just that it feels unreal. Just a piece of paper, and suddenly we're honorary citizens? We have our own rooms now? To be honest, I never imagined this day would come..."

"It's very strange."

Even Chris, who rarely spoke, nodded and whispered in agreement. Clearly, they still struggled to grasp what this meant. As hounds, they had always fought to survive in the perilous wilderness. For them, a peaceful, safe, warm home was the ultimate dream. Now, with that dream suddenly materializing before their eyes, the three sisters felt an uncanny sense of unreality.

"I still feel like I'm dreaming..."

"Dreams always end. Enjoy it while it lasts."

With these words, Faeron rose and snapped his fingers at Delin.

"Take care of them, Delin. Find them a suitable place to settle in. I’ll go see what the old man has prepared for me as payment. If it’s not up to standard, I’ll be returning it."

"Yes, Master."

Delin nodded at Faeron’s instruction. With her affirmation, Faeron nodded to the three women and turned, leaving the Ninth District office. The old man had made him work harder; naturally, Faeron wanted to inspect his reward. If it didn’t meet his expectations... well, he might just pay the "Emperor" an intimate visit.

Unfortunately, the Emperor seemed to understand Faeron’s intentions well. When Faeron arrived at the Blackstone Group, the organization responded swiftly, knowing he had come.

"Welcome to the Blackstone Group, 'Doctor'."

"Hello, beautiful lady. I’m here, as agreed, to collect my reward."

Faeron smiled and nodded at the slender, attractive woman before him, dressed in a short skirt and black stockings. The woman’s cheeks flushed as she met his gaze. No matter how the times changed, it remained a world where appearances mattered. For both men and women, looking good was never a disadvantage—especially when paired with Faeron’s status, which made her heart skip a beat. She quickly looked down, staring at the floor to hide her embarrassment.

"Of course, 'Doctor'. We have received the Executive Director’s orders and your reward is prepared. Please follow me."

With that, she turned and led Faeron down the corridor.

"You seem quite busy?"

Faeron observed the hurried figures passing in the distance and asked curiously. The woman responded promptly.

"Yes, 'Doctor'. The Executive Director has instructed us to ensure the fastest possible construction of the node core area, so everyone is working overtime... It’s all thanks to the Seven Giants. Otherwise, I never thought we’d see the day we could reclaim the city..."

"This is just the beginning. And if it weren’t for the old man’s invitation, we wouldn’t bother with such troublesome matters. If he hears you say that, he’ll throw a fit."

"You exaggerate, sir. The Executive Director is a gentle and venerable elder. I doubt he’d mind such trivialities."

If you saw how he cursed in the group chat, you might think otherwise.

Faeron eyed the bashful woman, tempted to tease her further, but at that moment, they reached the end of the corridor.

"Here we are, 'Doctor'."

She took out an ID card and swiped it at the door. With a soft beep, the metal gate slowly opened, and a stormy, thunderous voice roared from within, charging toward them.

"How many times have I told you! You idiots! Don’t swing so wildly when welding! Have you all been hitting the jet? You look like you’re about to drop dead! If you mess up again, I’ll smash your heads with a wrench!"

Hearing the furious voice, Faeron raised his eyebrows and stepped into the spacious workshop, peering inside. Not far below, a burly man dressed like a Mario plumber, wearing a miner’s helmet and wielding a wrench, bellowed at the workers before him like a raging bear. The poor workers cowered like sheep, trembling and not daring to respond.

"Mr. Mario."

The woman coughed awkwardly and called out. The man—dressed as Mario, looking like Mario, and even named Mario—turned and glanced their way. Upon seeing Faeron, he snorted.

"So it’s you, kid! Finally showed up! Come on, your stuff is ready!"

Mario tossed aside his wrench and strode into the workshop. Faeron shrugged and followed—after all, anyone connected to the old man had a lousy temper, and he’d long known this.

Mario’s temper was as bad as expected; he grumbled as he led the way.

"The old bastard gave orders two days ago to refit his junk, said it’d be used to transport people, and wanted it to look nice. Damn it! I’m a mechanic, not a magician! That heap is already a wreck—what am I supposed to do, conjure up a new one out of thin air? Hell, if you ask me, that old fool is getting senile, giving stuff like this away... But whatever, it’s not my place to complain."

With a sly grin, Mario turned and winked at Faeron.

"You're lucky, kid. I'm telling you, not just anyone gets this. Maybe the old bastard was drunk when he decided, but I don't care. If I get to see him wake up and regret it, that’ll be priceless! And... heh heh..."

At this, Mario’s expression grew wicked, as if he’d thought of something amusing. Faeron sighed inwardly.

The old man really isn’t popular...

"Enough, let’s cut to the chase... Here we are."

Realizing he had rambled, Mario fell silent and led Faeron to a corner of the workshop. There, the plumber uncle grabbed a black curtain and yanked it down forcefully.

"Behold! Here’s your surprise!"