"What about my merits if I leave?" Marquis Borton muttered under his breath. "But if I die, what use are merits to me?"
Qing Chen froze for a moment. That actually makes a lot of sense. But if you run, who am I supposed to keep here as a puppet? Who will listen to me?
By now, he had gained some understanding of Marquis Borton: the man had no real desire to harm anyone, only to enjoy himself for the rest of his life and protect his wife. Though he had some ambition, he was remarkably self-aware and had never truly taken those ambitions seriously.
Self-awareness was a good thing, though it did make him feel like mud that could not be plastered onto a wall. But Qing Chen did not need to make this marquis pull himself together. He only needed to nail this lump of mud to the wall with an iron plate so he could not run away.
Qing Chen felt that he might have frightened the marquis just now, so he pressed a hand on Marquis Borton and said softly, "I only think something is a little off. Maybe my instincts are wrong? I was just reporting it to you in passing! Listen outside—nothing's happening, is it?"
Marquis Borton patted his chest. "I saw how carefully you arranged the airships before, and then you made it sound so terrifying. I thought Outpost Base No. 9 was about to be finished today."
Qing Chen smiled. "My lord, please continue playing Superconducting World. Leave everything to me. Don't worry."
"Alright." Marquis Borton was extraordinarily easy to placate. He actually put on his virtual glasses and resumed his game.
The next moment, Qing Chen's expression turned grave.
He truly sensed that something was wrong. He did not know who