The two looked at the reflective dust in each other's palms, then glanced at the semi-transparent speech bubble in their field of vision, and both grinned.
While at Suolaer's house, because it was [ Shit Appraisal Master's ] home turf, [ Good Times Don't Last ] made the mistake of a typical player, and his slightly mischievous hands started groping around.
Suolaer has been quite depressed for the past two months, which is reflected in his "pigsty".
Even his signature navigation tools and catalogs were covered in a thin layer of dust.
Like a sanitation supervisor randomly checking the cleaning, [ the Good Times Don't Last ] as he reached out and touched the surface of the items, he felt a barely perceptible sting.
While Suolaer wasn't looking, he carefully twirled his fingers, feeling tiny crystals swirling between them.
On their way to Keen's house, the two exchanged brief messages using the player interface to maintain secrecy.
Later, at the Grand Artisan's mansion, the person who mainly explained their purpose changed from a " Shit Appraisal Master " to someone whose " Good Times Don't Last."
However, as one of the Grand Artisan of the Great Labyrinth City, Keen Risoth's household was not short of servants to clean and sweep, and [ Shit Appraisal Master ] initially found nothing.
But he quickly recalled his experiences during his school days—
When everyone's hygiene level is about the same, the teacher in charge of spot checks will specifically touch the door frame or the top of the blackboard—areas that are almost impossible to reach—to differentiate the level of care put into each class.
With that in mind, he pretended to go to the restroom and conducted a second investigation, and sure enough, he found some tiny crystals mixed in with the dust.
Now back on their own turf, the two were finally able to see the local specialty in their palms by candlelight.
These grains are all small and vary in color. Although we don't know what they are, they are clearly not a specialty of the Graycast Corridor.
This faction, built upon a vast mining region, has virtually no such things. Even the few metallic minerals that could be considered gems are mostly used for Territory Secret Pact.
While polishing gemstones naturally produces crystal fragments, this work is neither attributed to Suolaer nor Keen, and it's impossible to explain why there would be crystal grains in their homes.
Moreover, from a polishing perspective, the crystals in their palms are somewhat large, still resembling particles rather than dust.
This is a very obvious point of contention.
Although they knew for a long time that there was something wrong with the group of people invited today, the two of them had not yet found any clues that could connect them to the crystal.
"How about we post a question about it?"
[ The Shit Appraisal Master ] suddenly had a flash of inspiration:
"Like an interactive mystery game."
"Good idea."
The two took some photos of the various colored crystals under the light and quickly uploaded them to the forum, waiting for help from those with extraordinary abilities.
Meanwhile, in a semi-underground street somewhere in the inner area of Great Labyrinth City, a scruffy-bearded man dressed like a homeless person stumbled into the door of a shop.
This guy, who looks like a beggar, is someone most people would avoid at all costs, but if you part his beard and take a closer look at his face, you'll discover his true identity.
Suolaer Aoermo used a three-long-two-short knock signal to open the second door to the basement. Inside, six or seven hooded men, some sitting and some standing, simply greeted him as he entered.
Others might need to conceal their identities, but as a candidate who should have been elevated to a pedestal, Suolaer naturally had no need to hide his identity.
Now that he has arrived, all the members of today's meeting are present.
"Everyone, everyone."
The husky, magnetic voice immediately identifies him as the Grand Artisan Keen.
Now that everyone is here, let's discuss our strategy.
" Suolaer, I, and Brenfield have all received invitations to the dinner three days from now. We must make a decision."
Although there were eight people present, including Suolaer, only three actually received an invitation.
After all, although they are all undercover agents, they are not stupid; all that is needed is for some of them to act as the opposition.
As for the remaining people, they outwardly agree with the promotion of Machine Spirit, but in reality, they choose to delay or even obstruct it in secret.
After a moment of silence, one of the people in the dark room asked:
Are you the only three who received an invitation?
Keen shook his head:
"Reliable intelligence indicates that ten invitations were sent out, all to mid-to-high-level members of the Machine Spirit opposition."
Another person thought for a moment and then spoke:
"Three to seven, we're actually in the minority. We can use that to our advantage. Tell me the list of those seven people, and I'll use official business to meet with them in the next couple of days and try to incite them."
The group all nodded, and then a deliberately lowered female voice rang out:
"Should I secretly leak this information and spread some dubious false information?"
"No need. Since the Grand Foundry Master chose to invite us privately, it will definitely be kept secret. If it gets out, it will be easy to trace."
"Okay, then I'll hold off on activating my covert operation for now."
The man nodded, then seemed to disappear into the darkness behind him.
After a moment, a burly man suddenly said:
"I think this is an opportunity—the banquet hall was just renovated a little over ten days ago, and compared to the heavily guarded library, it's much easier to attack."
"No."
One person interrupted the burly man's speech:
" Grand Foundry Master have no reason to doubt us, after all, everyone's reasons for opposing the promotion of Machine Spirit are impeccable."
"So I suspect this is a sting operation. There are some things he doesn't know, but if we take action, an in-depth investigation will be launched immediately..."
"Alright everyone."
Just as the two were about to argue about whether to fight, Keen Rizzos, who had barely spoken throughout the evening, suddenly clapped his hands to interrupt them:
"You all did a great job, I'm very satisfied."
After a moment of silence in the basement, someone suddenly asked in a resentful tone:
"So, this was a test? Did you send those two crazy out-of-towners?"
"It's already extremely dangerous for us to be lying in wait, so what right do you have to test us?"
"Good question."
Keen, wearing a hood, nodded slightly.
"First of all, everyone's plans are based on evidence and are indeed for the sake of the overall situation, rather than being deliberately misleading."
"Secondly, the operation three days from now was planned long before you arrived; we are to assassinate the Grand Foundry Master."
"No, you're fucking insane! Balund hasn't even..."
"Third!"
Keen suddenly raised his voice, drowning out the protesters' voices:
"The one qualified to test you is not me, but..."
He clapped his hands again, and a footstep unlike any other suddenly rang out from the depths of the dark room.