Appointment

A moment later.

Two cars, one following the other, arrived beneath Triumph Building.

The soldiers patrolling the area seemed to have received word in advance. They stood in a neat row and, under the leadership of two officers, snapped into a marching salute in their direction.

Bang.

Gilan stepped out of the car. The short-haired woman beside him hurried forward and respectfully shut the door for him.

Then, one hand pinching the brim of his hat and the other resting on his gray cane, Gilan strode into the building through the biting wind, surrounded by a group of officially dressed personnel in suits.

They escorted Gilan all the way to the seventieth floor, then waited outside.

There was hardly anyone in the committee hall that morning. Gilan walked alone to the chairman's office and raised a hand to knock.

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

A familiar, deep, magnetic voice came from within.

Creak—

Gilan pushed open the door.

"Chairman Pala," he said respectfully.

"Gilan, you're here." The white-haired old gentleman seated behind the curved desk smiled. "Please, have a seat."

Gilan nodded and took a seat.

He looked up at the chairman and discovered that the world-renowned Grand Alchemist had become frail with age, no longer possessing his former vigor.

His cheeks had sunk deeply, his cheekbones stood out sharply, and he had grown quite gaunt.

"Chairman, you..."

Gilan's gaze sharpened as he spoke in a low voice.

"Heh heh, there's no need to worry." Pala smiled. "All things must follow 'equivalent exchange.' This is merely the necessary price of using the 'Philosopher's Sword.'"

The Philosopher's Sword? The crimson longsword Chairman Pala drew from his cane that night?

Gilan immediately understood something. Tactfully, he did not press the matter further and simply nodded.

"Gilan, you've received the letter of appointment, haven't