The Eldritch Files

But to suddenly get a notice to go fight for his life at a time like this?

He resisted the idea with every fiber of his being!

But in the end, he let out a sigh, slowly turned the documents on his desk face down, and a flicker of determination flashed in his eyes.

Joking around and complaining a little on a normal day was one thing, but he knew perfectly well that when it came to something critical, he had no choice.

He studied ancient ruins, so his knowledge of history was far greater than most. That was why he, more than anyone, understood the terror of the things history left behind, and understood exactly what caliber of entity the Ancient Castle he had encountered was.

From the moment he was awakened—or rather, from the moment he had been chosen by the Ancient Castle—he had been left with no choice.

War doesn’t give the little guy a chance to refuse. All one can do is pick a side.

Of course, he had to side with the big boss, not just because he was the one who had awakened him, but for a more important reason:

The man actually built him a laboratory!

It was as if he were omnipotent in Qinggang...

His expression hardened. He took a gun from his drawer and loaded it. To steel his resolve to fight to the bitter end, he even slung his cherished golf club over his back, along with his grandfather’s business card!

...

...

In the Qinggang Council Hall, Wei Lan slowly opened his eyes.

A silent vote was underway.

When Mr. Xu, who sat in one of the black chairs, questioned the Silence Protocol, a vote was, of course, necessary.

And just as he’d said he would, he was the first to cast a vote in favor of canceling the Silence Protocol. However, the others merely exchanged glances, none of them holding out much hope. Although the vote came from someone in a black chair, such occurrences were not uncommon.

The Council Hall contained three black chairs and seven red chairs. A red chair was worth one vote; a black chair was worth three.

The Qinggang Council’s regulations stipulated that exactly two black-chair members must participate in any vote.

Thus, the maximum number of valid votes was capped at thirteen.

This was because Qinggang’s Founding Protector had once said that it is impossible for humans to be creatures of complete consensus.

If, one day, the Council, with its sixteen potential votes, were to cast a total of more than thirteen, it would signify that Qinggang had begun to lose its vitality, and everything would become meaningless.

According to standard procedure, a black-chair member would typically cast an initial vote to signal their position. This would be followed by countless private meetings before a second, formal vote was held.

For instance, now that Mr. Xu had voiced a dissenting opinion, the next step should have been a series of house calls to ascertain his true demands, followed by discussions in various small circles to figure out a solution that would please everyone.

By the time the actual vote took place, the outcome was usually already a foregone conclusion.

This time, however, the result seemed different from what everyone expected. Each person cast their vote in silence. In the end, a ceremonial attendant revealed the final tally: seven votes in favor, two abstentions, and two votes against.

At this result, a cold glint instantly flashed in the eyes of the man sitting in the other black chair, and he abruptly sat bolt upright.

It wasn’t just him; the expressions of everyone present changed dramatically, including even some who had voted in favor themselves.

This included the old man from Dingxiang Mansion, who always seemed to be half-asleep, and the young Empress, who had only just earned her place in a black chair. Her face was a picture of astonishment, her eyes blinking rapidly.

A single, startled thought echoed in her mind: ’Can a vote in the Qinggang Council Hall really be this farcical?’

”This result...”

After a long silence, someone finally spoke in a low voice. Looking at the somewhat farcical result, it was clear they couldn’t truly accept it.

But even in a private meeting like this, faced with such an awkward situation, some diplomatic words were needed to ease the tension.

”The result is the result.”

But before the speaker could finish, Mr. Xu, in the chair to the left, suddenly cut in. ”Since everyone has endorsed my proposal, then...”

He suddenly leaned forward slightly, lacing his fingers together, his gaze heavy. ”Send someone to contact the media. First thing tomorrow morning, release a report that the Mayor is in poor health and unable to continue presiding over his duties.”

”Arrange for someone to take over Secretary No. 5’s duties. Any tasks he personally signed off on are now void.”

”Mobilize the Disaster Management Bureau. They are responsible for constructing the fourth defense line. They’ve been given their benefits; now it’s time for them to step up.”

”Furthermore, send an official notice to Abyssal Studio immediately. Inform her that the Qinggang Council will no longer cooperate with the investigation into that kidnapping case from ten years ago. And...”

”...”

”Mr. Xu!”

The voice of the man in the black chair to the right was trembling. ”Are you joking with us?”

”The Tide is almost upon us! At this final, critical juncture, you...”

Without a doubt, this was all too sudden, happening without any warning whatsoever.

All he could be certain of was that something was wrong with the vote’s outcome. In fact, there was something very wrong with this entire meeting.

The gentleman who occupied the center chair wasn’t even present, yet a vote like this had passed. It was an absolute farce...

Meeting the man’s flustered gaze, Mr. Xu’s expression darkened, and he swept a cool look over him.

”Do I strike you as someone who enjoys joking around?”

”Or have you all become so arrogant that you refuse to even recognize the results of a Qinggang Council vote?”

”...”

”...”

In the abandoned D7 Laboratory, Han Su slowly opened his eyes, having just received word from Wei Lan.