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"You've seen him too, right?"
"Hmph, serves him right. Wasn't it very stupid of him to come here alone? He must have thought himself to be invincible, but didn't Lieutenant Warner take him down just the same?"
"Lower your voice a bit." The one who spoke sent a playful smack to the back of his friend's head. "That's still a person who took down an A-grade Invalid on his own. He could kill you with a glare."
The recipient of the smack laughed.
"Kill me? With that thing around his neck? Even if he had a wrong thought he'd be fried into barbecue chicken."
Conversations like this seemed to happen all the time these days. Whenever a group passed by the pillar at the gate of their harbor, their thoughts would inevitably drift to the young man forced to stand guard there.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe stood atop the pillar, legs crossed. His hair and immature beard were just as unkempt while his clothing was just as casual. But, now, he had a collar wrapped tightly around his neck that flickered with arcs of electricity from time to time.
"What are you two doing around here?! Scram!"
A sudden roar shocked the two gossiping men, sending them scurrying into a distance. Comparing Gerolt's large physique to themselves, they knew they didn't stand much of a chance.
Gerolt looked up at the young man who sat on the pillar and sighed. The young man didn't seem to notice his presence, but could Gerolt blame him? Scaring away those who ran their mouths too much was about the best he could do.
'It's not right. None of them seem to remember that that damned lieutenant wasn't the one to step out and save their lives, it was Leonel who did. Since he could defeat Leonel, why didn't he step out earlier to kill that A-grade threat?'
Gerolt was fuming, but he couldn't even raise up his courage to contradict Sela who was nothing more than a captain. How could he do anything against a lieutenant?
After casting another glance toward Leonel, Gerolt turned and left.
Leonel, who was on top of the pillar, didn't seem to have much of a reaction to this. For one, none of them knew that he wasn't actually a prisoner, this was just a facade. Even the electric collar on his neck was just a little trick, it did little more than leave his skin a bit numb. And second, if he interacted with Gerolt on friendly terms, that would probably make this whole act a waste. So, he ignored him.
His life was pretty leisurely right now, in fact. He had become the 'guard dog' of the rebels, standing guard here for 12 hours everyday. For others, this might have been a complete waste of time. But, with his Dream World, Leonel could still progress.
Leonel found that when he did nothing but clear his mind and meditate like this, he had thoughts and ideas he never even considered before. In an age of technology, people rarely took time to themselves. And, even when he entered Zones which had no such distractions, he was constantly on guard, worrying about his life.
But now, he could breathe and relax. This whole pretending to be a prisoner gig wasn't half bad.
'… I'm such an idiot, why didn't I think of that? Since Metal Spirits are known for their corrosive ability and in the art of refining metals, can't I just have the little guy melt this wrist watch for me? I wouldn't even need the Slayer Legion at that point.'
This was just one of Leonel's many fleeting thoughts. In fact, he felt that he could just barely split his thoughts into two streams, allowing them to draw conjectures along two completely different avenues. It was almost like combining the computing power of two computers to gain results faster.
Leonel had barely grasped this ability when he was escaping back to the Fort. He had been trying to absorb the primitive man's combat experience as quickly as possible and formed three simulations in his Dream World. However, the third had been so bare bones that it could hardly be considered one. So, two was Leonel's real limit, and even then, it drained his spirit very quickly without the support of [Dimensional Cleanse].
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmStill, this was only a fleeting thought of Leonel's. Right now, he still didn't dare to touch the little guy with his bare hands and he only had protective gear for his palms and fingers. His wrist would still be exposed. So, without some experience or assurances, he wouldn't dare to act rashly just yet.
In reality, this was a thought Leonel had had days ago. What he was focused on now was completely different.
'Just where is the perfect location for my Ninth Node?'
If before Leonel wasn't very worried about this, believing he had time to figure it out, he was now getting a bit anxious. ????????????????????????????. ᴄo????
In the past month or so, he had already formed his Fourth and Fifth Nodes within the lab. He could form his Sixth any time as well, but hadn't because he needed to allow the lab to accumulate more Force, or else he would run out when it came time to form his Second Star.
It could be said that Leonel faced practically none of the bottlenecks Aina had mentioned. In fact, his speed was blinding to the point of being incredulous. If there were knowledgeable individuals monitoring his progress, they'd be numbed with shock.
It should be mentioned that Earth only had a few million people left of their population. The rest had either died during the Paradise Island tragedy or become Invalids. Of those people, those like Aina who had families pass down Force cultivation techniques to them numbered in the few hundred at most. All others had to earn their own in Zones just like Leonel…
Now, considering this, how many could get a good technique? Even if you put aside the fact that Leonel's technique was among the best in the Fourth Dimension and didn't mind the fact not just anyone would be able to get a Tier 9 Black reward… what then?
This was all to say that Leonel's strength was frightening. Those who had as many Force Nodes as him had all begun long before the Metamorphosis truly descended.
But now, his own speed was knipping at his heels. At this pace, it wouldn't be long before he formed his Eighth Node… But he still had no idea where his Ninth should go!