"Looks like I'm a little late."
Not long after the "ban" on Ren Gu took effect, Bifang strolled in through the main entrance, thermos in hand.
"Teacher Bifang!"
Wang Jiu looked at Bifang in delighted surprise.
Lacan narrowed his eyes. "So it's you... Bifang."
"Who else could it be, Lacan?" Bifang looked at him. This equally unremarkable-looking man slowly came to a stop among the crowd. "It could only be me."
The two of them hardly looked like one of the top figures in the "Psychology Society" and one of the strongest "Night Watchers" having a conversation. Instead, they looked more like a helpless middle-aged man privately discussing his child's problems with the child's homeroom and math teachers after a parents' meeting.
The balance of power at the scene had not been broken by Bifang's arrival, because the "Psychology Society" had... another S-class Specialist on-site as well.
"Sorry, sorry. I ran into a submarine on the way here, and it sent me tumbling, so I lost some time arguing with them." A rope dropped through the hole in the ceiling. Along with it came a light, airy voice, and then a drenched man dressed entirely in black slid down the rope. "Phew—anyway, I made it!"
"Made it, my ass! You swam here, you idiot? How the hell weren't you killed by that submarine? I'm telling you, Potassium Chloride, you really are brain-dead. Did your family have no money when you were little, so they scraped plaster off the walls, mixed it with water, and fed it to you as milk powder, leaving you malnourished and giving you severe hydrocephalus? Is that why you're drawn to water and have to dive in for a couple of laps whenever you see it?" Dilaudid kicked the black-clad man in the butt. "If you'd