Then Randall added:
"Oh, right. When a second passes outside, a second might pass in there too, but it could also be several years, or even several decades.
It all depends on your luck."
Randall spoke without expression.
The poison user opened his mouth in vain, unable to say a word.
But the terror written across his face said enough.
Randall pointed a finger, and the poison user and the gunman collapsed one after the other.
Their minds plunged into a dark abyss, but their bodies remained alive.
They were like people in a vegetative state.
"Randall, is it really down to luck?
If they get lucky and only a second passes for them when a second passes outside, wouldn't that be letting them off too easily?"
Christa walked over to Randall, looking at the two men with fire and blades in her eyes.
"Of course I lied to them. For every second outside, they'll live through ten years!"
Randall said.
"I'm sorry, sir. I failed to protect the base! Please punish me!"
Aequus came to Randall's side, his face filled with shame and his eyes red. He was actually crying.
"Don't take the blame on yourself. They just picked their timing too well."
Randall sighed. This time, he had been bested.
But being bested by such small fry left a knot in his chest.
"Aequus, do you know anything about that Big Hand Funeral Home?"
At that, Aequus thought for a moment and said:
"I've only heard of the organization. Supposedly, the Big Hand Funeral Home handles eighty percent of the world's assassination business.
Their boss, Peclo, is known as the Grand Undertaker. He's practically an emperor in the Underworld.
But his whereabouts are constantly changing. They say he has bases all across the Four Blues."
Hearing that, Randall