Durandal swept her gaze across the room, showing no immediate intention to fight.
Even after spotting dissected human organs on the lab tables, she managed to keep her composure.
Glancing up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, she saw Elysia give her a thumbs-up, signaling everything was fine. Connie was nowhere in sight—probably still hiding as instructed.
Assured there were no immediate threats at her back, Durandal casually drove the Black Abyss White Flower into the floor. The specially reinforced concrete instantly cratered under the impact.
Seeing her display had cooled the fervor in the eyes of a few overzealous and wild-looking individuals, she finally spoke, her usually crisp voice now carrying a low, measured tone.
"Who's in charge here?"
Soon, from the crowd of lab coats, a lanky man with gold-rimmed glasses—who'd looked terrified when she first arrived—was pushed forward by the others.
"You're the person in charge?"
Durandal glanced at the ID badge hanging from his chest, her tone tinged with something unreadable.
"Kenji? Fitting name, I suppose."
Kenji blinked, clearly unaware that in this former civilization, the two syllables of his name didn't carry any offensive meaning.
But hearing Durandal speak so casually eased his initial panic over the unexpected crisis slightly.
So, with a mix of groveling and veiled threat, the man began, "Miss… uh, heroine, I am the director of this research facility. But honestly, I'm just carrying out orders for Fire Moth. You've heard of Fire Moth, right? They're the ones backed by the United—"
Before he could finish, Durandal cut him off with a faint, almost mocking smile.
"Fire Moth? The United Nations? Let me ask you—do you honestly believe that if this place gets exposed, they won't be the first to cut you loose?"
"And a friendly warning: saying that in front of me is one thing, but if you try that line with the officials from Nagazora City who'll be showing up soon, don't be surprised if you're found hanging in your cell the very next day."
"And wouldn't you know it—right around that time, the prison's security cameras will either be broken or under maintenance."
Her words sent a cold sweat instantly drenching Kenji's face and soaking through the back of his white coat.
He wasn't the only one reacting that way.
As researchers, they knew little of political darkness, but they were far from stupid.
Quite the opposite—their intelligence meant Durandal's explanation immediately clarified their precarious situation.
It boiled down to one simple truth: if their shady operations came to light, death was the only thing waiting for them.
Of course, they weren't completely without hope.
And that hope now rested with this superhuman girl standing before them.
"Miss Heroine—"
Kenji started, only to be interrupted again.
"My name is Durandal," she said flatly.
Being called "heroine" felt far too strange and awkward.
"Yes! Lady Durandal!"
Kenji was still sweating buckets, driven not just by fear but also a sense of urgency.
He knew he had to convince this young woman before the Nagazora City authorities arrived.
He didn't want to die!
With that thought, he scrambled back to his office, literally crawling at points, and retrieved a stack of documents from his safe.
Durandal stood quietly, watching the so-called director's pathetic performance.
Kenji knew how wretched he looked, but survival instinct had stripped away any pretense of his usual elegance.
"Lady Durandal, these contain all the research results we've accumulated over the years. Please, have a look."
He had no idea whether Durandal would even care about these documents—he was gambling.
But what if? Right?
Taking the files from him, Durandal began flipping through them, page by page.
Initially, she had wondered whether this human experimentation facility was secretly run by Mobius.
After all, even within Fire Moth, that one had performed illegal autopsies on Herrscher corpses.
So, establishing an external human experimentation base didn't seem far-fetched for someone like her.
But after reviewing the experiment logs Kenji provided, Durandal immediately dismissed any connection to Mobius.
These projects were definitely not something she would propose—not the Mobius obsessed with redefining what it meant to be human.
No, all of this was just the foolish work of one—or perhaps many—ignorant humans, arrogantly attempting to transform into ultimate lifeforms like the Herrschers.
These experiments couldn't even compare to those at Babylon Labs.
At least, 50,000 years later, the tragedies at the Tower of Babylon eventually allowed the later Schicksal to develop artificial Stigmata, expanding the Valkyrie ranks in the fight against the Honkai.
But the work of these people here?
It was just crude, brute-force exposure of human bodies to Honkai energy, a reckless attempt to grasp at the power of gods.
"Where are the test subjects you captured?"
Durandal suppressed her rising fury and killing intent as she asked this critical question.
Seeing her restraint, Kenji hesitated, a flicker of arrogance returning now that she hadn't shown overt aggression.
Moreover, he knew very well that, unsure whether the documents had won her interest, those test subjects were his last bargaining chip.
Naturally, he wasn't about to reveal their whereabouts easily.
But Durandal had completely lost patience for further games.
She raised the Black Abyss White Flower, leveling its tip at Kenji's shoulder. "I'll ask one more time. Where are the test subjects you captured?"
The dormant power of destruction within the weapon remained sheathed, yet it emanated a terror as palpable as the gaze of death itself.
Almost instantly, Kenji felt a chill shoot down his spine.
Then his lower body loosened, and a warm, pungent fluid soaked through the trousers under his lab coat, dripped into his leather shoes, and even pooled on the floor.
A foul, bizarre odor immediately filled the air, prompting the already distant researchers to retreat even further.
Durandal frowned at the scene.
Second time.
She was starting to notice that her methods often seemed to lead to… this.
'Maybe I should ask Elysia for advice next time?'
It wasn't about elegance—she couldn't care less about that. She just really didn't want to have to… appreciate this particular aroma so often.
--+--
T/N: This fic will update 2 chaps a day