"What exactly are you looking for? I'm curious."
As they continued deeper into the Sentinel Factory, Quentin asked Miles.
"If you really want to know, I can tell you." As Miles spoke, he raised a hand and pointed at the disco ball still flashing above his head. "But you need to turn this thing off first!"
"Then I'd rather refuse."
Quentin sneered. "Take your damn secret to hell with you, Little Black Spirit King!"
Miles glanced at him, still completely unmoved.
"Uh..."
Watching Miles remain calm from beginning to end, Quentin finally couldn't help asking, "Are you always this boring?"
"Boring?"
Miles looked at Quentin.
"I mean, music, games, girls, or at least an occasional joke?" Quentin spread his hands helplessly. "You look like there's nothing in your head besides missions. Are you really still human?"
"I just don't like wasting time on meaningless things," Miles replied.
"...Guys like you probably didn't have many friends back at the academy," Quentin said.
"No, actually, I did."
Miles shook his head and continued, "They just weren't as noisy as you."
"..."
Quentin's face twitched, and he clenched his fists, wanting to punch Miles.
But he held himself back.
First, because he knew it would be childish. Second... he was no match for Miles in close combat.
"Hey, Little Black Spirit King!"
Quentin suddenly called out, "One day, I'm going to have a proper rematch with you!"
Miles looked Quentin over again and gave a cold laugh.
"Anytime."
After that, the two finally fell quiet for the time being.
After another dozen minutes of going deeper, the narrow maintenance passage finally came to an end.
An alloy gate over ten meters tall stood across the darkness. Its heavy door panel was badly rusted, and a conspicuous gap had opened beneath it—just large