The Black Room had only one rule: do not reveal anything about any member to outsiders, no matter who they were.
All activities were entirely voluntary. Come or don't, as you pleased.
When nothing was happening, the Black Room was simply a place for everyone to practice and relax; not everyone was there all the time. Three members were absent just then: one regular member and two more Masked Men.
In other words, the Black Room had just nine members in total, three of them Masked Men. With Chu Ge and Qiu Wuji joining, that made eleven, with the masked contingent expanding to five.
It was a tiny organization. They could barely fill a single table at a banquet.
Everyone gave their names and briefly introduced themselves.
The young man who wrote on his face was called Wan Zijun. He hadn't originally been a farmer, but a copywriter at an advertising agency. Somehow, as he kept writing copy, the writing had ended up on his face.
After discovering his esper ability, Wan Zijun had dreamed of becoming a superhero. As it turned out, his ridiculous ability not only failed to make him a hero, but nearly left him socially dead at work. With no other choice, he had resigned and gone to the countryside to farm the few mu of land his grandfather had left him, supplying supermarkets and Chef Jin on a regular basis. Aside from being rather hard work, the income was actually pretty good.
Of course, his decision to accept that inheritance had also followed the same reasoning Chu Ge had: practicing esper abilities was more convenient out in the countryside. Normally, Wan Zijun rarely came to the Black Room, since he lived far away. Today, he had come specifically to meet the newcomers.
The fat guy