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墨書 Inktalez
As the atmosphere grew tense, Yan Kong's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. Just as the blades of the two Giants glinted ominously and were about to strike, a deep, resonant voice echoed from behind the door, steady yet imbued with an undeniable authority:
"Hey! Everyone, let's calm down a bit. Let's be friendly and welcome our new friend who is visiting for the first time, shall we?"
The voice carried no hint of anger, but each word landed like a heavy stone, suppressing the boiling tension in the room. Upon hearing that familiar voice, Yan Kong raised an eyebrow slightly and a cold smile crept across his lips. "Feng Huo..." he murmured under his breath, his guard still not fully lowered.
The two Giants clearly expressed their dissatisfaction with this interruption. Their gazes remained fixed on Yan Kong, eyes filled with reluctance, yet they slowly retracted their alloy blades as commanded. The sound of metal sliding back into its sheath echoed clearly in the quiet corridor, like a storm that had yet to break finally settling.
Yan Kong scoffed softly, evidently feeling unsatisfied by the fight that had not yet begun. Nevertheless, he released his grip on the sword hilt, shoved his hands into his pockets, and leaned casually against a wooden pillar in the corridor, adopting a relaxed posture. "Consider yourselves lucky," he said quietly, laced with provocation.
The two Giants did not respond; they merely shot Yan Kong a cold glance before taking their positions flanking the door. Their movements were machine-like in their precision, devoid of any extraneous expression, but the air still carried an undercurrent of resentment.
As the Giants pulled open the door, it revealed an unusually tidy room. There were no unnecessary decorations—only simple wooden furnishings exuding a faint scent of wood. Dim lighting cast a thin layer of warm color across the room but failed to impart any sense of warmth; instead, it added an air of stern seriousness.
Feng Huo sat at a low table in the center of the room, holding a stack of documents and scanning through the pages with focused attention, seemingly oblivious to the door being opened. His posture was relaxed yet authoritative, radiating an innate sense of control. Yan Kong stood at the threshold, surveying the almost empty room with a slight frown.
"What a boring place," Yan Kong muttered under his breath before stepping inside, still wearing that signature look of disdain.
Feng Huo continued to read without lifting his gaze from the documents but broke the silence with his deep and resonant voice: "Please sit down, Yan Kong. Since it's your first visit, we should have a good chat, shouldn't we?"
Yan Kong let out a cold laugh as he casually grabbed a cushion and sat down without ceremony. His eyes never left Feng Huo's face as if assessing what this man was truly planning. Meanwhile, a small recycling robot trailed closely behind him, cautiously shrinking to one side and barely making any noise with its treads as if trying to evade the pressure lurking in the room.
Lian stood at the doorway with a slight bow, her movements graceful and respectful. She lifted her head with a faint smile playing on her lips and spoke softly yet composed: "My task is complete now; I will leave it to you, Lord Feng Huo. I take my leave."
Feng Huo remained focused on the documents in his hands, merely nodding slightly in response to the words spoken. Seeing this, Lian straightened up and gently pulled the door closed. The faint sound of the door scraping against its frame echoed in the quiet space. The light in the room dimmed instantly, casting a warm glow over the two individuals and a small recycling robot.
As the door shut, an awkward silence enveloped the room. Feng Huo continued to concentrate on his papers, his fingers tracing back and forth across the surface as if organizing some important information. His movements were steady, and his gaze was fixed, seemingly indifferent to everything else in the room.
Yan Kong knelt opposite Feng Huo, his legs folded casually, his posture less formal than most. He closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned down slightly, his expression calm yet tinged with impatience. He appeared to be meditating or suppressing some emotion, but the slight tremor of his shoulders revealed that he was not as composed as he seemed.
The small recycling robot was the busiest entity in the room. Its camera darted nervously between Feng Huo and Yan Kong, as if trying to find some sense of direction. It emitted a few soft beeping sounds, seemingly asking for help from someone, but eventually fell silent, curling up at Yan Kong's feet, its treads softly scraping against the floor in a state of confusion.
The silence in the room felt like a heavy fog, suffocating and oppressive. Time seemed to stretch out, amplifying even the faint hum of the recycling robot. Finally, Yan Kong opened one eye and glanced at Feng Huo before closing it again, a barely perceptible smirk playing at his lips.
Feng Huo appeared completely oblivious to Yan Kong and everything else in the room; his gaze remained locked on the documents before him as he lightly tapped his fingers on the table, seemingly organizing his thoughts. He said nothing and offered no explanations; only the soft rustle of paper echoed in the air.
Yan Kong knelt on the floor, his hands restless and unplaced, feeling an inner fury and impatience rising within him. His eyes were half-opened, as if suppressing an urge to explode. This dead silence was more maddening to him than any provocation could ever be.
Just when he felt he could no longer endure it, Feng Huo finally moved. He gently closed the documents in his hands with a soft sound that seemed to punctuate a long-delayed silence. Then he lifted his head, wearing that familiar smile—gentle yet unmistakably confident, as if he held all the cards.
"Thank you for your hard work, Yan Kong," Feng Huo's tone was low and carried just the right amount of warmth; however, to Yan Kong's ears, it sounded like nothing more than insincere pleasantries.
Feng Huo leaned slightly on the low table with his elbows resting on it, hands clasped together as he fixed his gaze intently on Yan Kong. "The situation at the border is chaotic; our enemies are closing in relentlessly. If supplies cannot be delivered promptly, it may lead to a collapse along the entire front." His tone was steady and composed as if stating a fact while hinting that this situation was closely tied to Yan Kong.
Yet Yan Kong wasted not even a second on Feng Huo's pleasantries; he coldly met Feng Huo's gaze with a slight lift of his lips that bore no trace of a smile. "Enough with this nonsense; just tell me why you brought me here." His voice carried a chill of anger that left no doubt about his weariness with this conversation.
Feng Huo raised an eyebrow but was not surprised by Yan Kong's attitude. He maintained that signature smile of his as if waiting for more questions to come.
"I am a loser," Yan Kong continued, his voice low yet filled with power, as if each word sliced through the dim space. "I lost to Leng Lie, and in your eyes, I am nothing but a complete failure. So tell me, why go through all this trouble to bring me here? To watch me make a fool of myself?"
His gaze was icy, a hint of madness and provocation flickering in his eyes, as if he were daring Feng Huo to give him an irrefutable reason. His hand rested lightly on his knee, fingers slightly curled, as if ready to explode at any moment.
Feng Huo's smile widened just a fraction, an elusive glimmer flashing in his eyes. He shook his head gently, not answering immediately, as if deliberately prolonging the suffocating silence, allowing Yan Kong's emotions to ferment further in the quiet.
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