My Players Are So Fierce

“Perhaps we should add a little more restriction on her, my Murphy.

This Cement Sealed Heart looks like a restless character just by looking at her, not to mention her astonishing intelligence.

I think she will definitely come up with something that will amaze us all.”

On the way out of the Marsh Museum, Triss whispered to Murphy:

“Letting her explore here doesn’t seem like a good idea.

What if that guy really discovers something incredible…”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Murphy affectionately reached out to tidy Triss’s hair, and he whispered:

“Don’t be afraid; Cement’s body has irretrievably died.

She knows very well that her future is bound with ours.

A clever person like her wouldn’t destroy her last hope by her own hands after suffering disaster once.

Moreover, if she truly discovers something marvelous, it won’t do us any harm.

With your half-baked understanding of technology, there’s no way to decode the technology left by the creator.

This kind of thing requires a professional.

Isn’t that why we brought Cement here in advance?

A little discovery is enough to make those still hesitant on the other side make up their mind, and this is all in preparation for what comes next.

Triss, you know, we hold the righteousness in the fight against the Black Disaster, so King Louis and Lupa will have to assist us fully, even if they don’t want to.

But the Black Disaster will eventually pass.

We have irreconcilable hatred with them, and eventually, war will break out on this continent; we are only taking back what is ours.

But once the war begins, both sides will ally to jointly stifle Transylvania’s rise.

They fear us because they once joined hands to put us in dire straits.

We also need allies!

But Wise Wolf and the vampires are not enough.

We need some more intimidating, more powerful allies.

Perhaps at the most critical moment, only one war is required…”

Murphy stopped talking, pulled Triss’s hand, and walked into the elevator.

At the moment the elevator doors closed, the two vampires snuggled up together.

Although this museum hides a lot of black technology, for now, for Triss and Murphy, this place is their personal world, where they don’t have to worry about anything outside or think about those rumors.

Here, they only need to enjoy each other’s company without other worries.

“Speaking of which, the stipend for this month should be in.

Want to check it out?”

Murphy, holding the panting Triss, whispered in her ear.

The Vampire Miss glared at Murphy.

I’ve already taken off half my clothes, and now you say you want to get paid?

What do you mean?

Are you making some vicious, lewd analogy?

“Uh…”

Murphy also realized he had misspoken and lightly pounded the operation panel of the soon-to-open elevator, temporarily suspending the elevator with the curator’s authority.

A perfectly private space was formed, making Triss nod with satisfaction.

But just as she was preparing to proceed to the next step, Murphy restrained her hands and pressed them against the elevator wall.

The Vampire Governor kissed her smooth back and softly said to the struggling Triss:

“Lord Paryen suggested that I shouldn’t let you take the lead in this kind of thing.

He said if you lost control for a few seconds, it would be enough to kill me, so I also have to find a way to switch roles to ‘Knight.’”

“Shut up, you little rascal.”

On the other side, Cement Sister, after wandering around the bio-room, walked to the elevator but couldn’t open the elevator, leading her to rant:

“The black technology of the Golden Era is so strong yet they still encounter elevator failures?

It’s really unbelievable; listen to this noisy sound, this broken elevator really needs fixing.

Forget it, I’ll go offline and write a report first.

Those damn cunning otherworld vampires really hit my soft spot.

Figuring out how to smooth over this matter is truly a brain teaser.

But on second thought, my prediction about the subspace is most likely not wrong.

I just hope those fools don’t try to use that prototype again.

It really would cause a big mess, damn it.”

—————–

“Cough cough…uh…am I dead?”

Major Ron opened his eyes with difficulty.

The anesthesia of the Death Moon Sect was still in effect, making it hard for him to truly feel the sensation coming from his limbs, especially his left leg.

It felt as if it was completely absent.

It was now the seventh day after the end of the Blackflame Mountain Pass battle, and he vaguely saw the army green tent above him, realizing he had been transferred to the rear, probably in the field hospital where Fraser had been before.

His condition must be terrible, but he didn’t know if the front line had won or if they lost.

“Is anyone there?

Damn it…can someone get me a glass of water?”

He weakly called out from the hospital bed, but no one responded even after several calls until a few minutes later when the door was pushed open, and the limping Iron Hand Captain came in carrying a tray with a meal for the patient.

Of course, this wasn’t for Major Ron to eat; it was his recovery meal.

As for why he came over, it was to routinely check on his superior’s condition.

According to the young Transylvanian military doctor’s words, the Major could wake up at any time, but it had been almost a week, and he still hadn’t opened his eyes, which showed that Transylvanian military doctors were as unreliable as those in other places.