93: Chapter 93 Performance Report to the Imperial Investigators

That cold touch felt not like crystal, but like a red-hot branding iron, intending to completely sear away her old identity and brand her with a brand-new mark belonging to Blackstone Territory.

The price of betrayal was death, but the consequence of refusal seemed even more absolute—to have all traces of her existence erased, along with her entire organization.

Three seconds.

Levi seemed quite patient, neither hurrying her nor applying any additional pressure.

He simply stood downstairs quietly, as if everything were under his control; the time he gave Caroline was both a mercy and the most cruel form of psychological torture.

Finally, Caroline's fingers tightly gripped the communication crystal.

She did not choose a simple surrender; that would be too passive, too cheap, and would fail to reflect her value as one of the continent's top assassins.

She needed a heavy enough certificate of allegiance to trade for status and trust before her new master.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the last trace of hesitation had vanished, replaced by a businessman-like shrewdness and decisiveness.

She brought the crystal to her lips and, in a rapid tone devoid of any emotional fluctuation, spoke a series of words that would sound meaningless to an outsider.

"Grey Sparrow calling Mole. Initiate 'Winemaker' Plan B, target change. Coordinates: Empire’s Western Border, Sunset Fortress, Governor’s Mansion. Authorization Key: Long Night, Sparse Stars, Wind Never Ceases. Repeat, Authorization Key..."

Her speech was as fast as a machine gun; every word represented a specific command, a complex set of action protocols.

This was the highest-level communication cipher used within the "Grey Hand" organization for emergency mission changes.

What she spoke of was not surrender, but a hijacking.

She was utilizing her last remaining, soon-to-expire authority to forcibly change the final instructions of an ongoing assassination plot that was enough to shake the Empire, presenting it as a bloody gift to her new boss.

The target of this certificate of allegiance was the Governor of the Empire's Western Border, a high-ranking frontier official who held heavy military power and a significant position.

Revealing this conspiracy, which was enough to trigger massive chaos on the Empire's western border, was far more valuable than simply giving up a few strongholds.

She was gambling—gambling that Levi Byron's appetite was large enough to swallow this intelligence, and gambling that he could see the value she displayed behind it: she was not just an assassin who could kill, but a "Senior Manager" familiar with the operational rules of the Empire's dark side.

Meanwhile, on the third floor of the banquet hall, in a more secluded private box with an excellent view...

Sorenson's breathing was somewhat heavy.

On the table before him lay a notebook written with special alchemical ink, already densely filled with records of everything that had happened tonight.

From Levi using an unknown magical mechanism to instantly subdue the top assassin "Shadow Warrior Zero," to the brutal killing of Byron Family Elder Otto, and then to the coercion of the entire Byron Family side branches using financial evidence and murder recordings... every single item was enough to constitute a series of serious crimes such as treason, murdering nobility, illegal assembly, and the use of prohibited military magic artifacts.

This evidence was enough to send Levi Byron, along with his Blackstone Territory, to the gallows of the Empire's High Inquisition a hundred times over.

As a secret investigator directly under the Imperial Inspectorate, his mission was to patrol the various territories of the Empire and record any anomalies that might threaten Imperial rule.

And what he had seen tonight had already far exceeded the scope of an "anomaly"; this was a premeditated, planned, and cold-blooded internal coup within a territory.

He could wait no longer.

This Levi Byron's intellect and methods far exceeded what they should be for his age; his danger level had to be upgraded to the highest rank immediately.

Sorenson silently pulled a badge from his inner pocket.

The badge was made entirely of Mithril, carved with a lifelike Royal Griffin, with a tiny magic crystal embedded in the griffin's eye.

This was the highest emergency distress token of the Imperial Inspectorate; once crushed, the Spatial Beacon and distress signal embedded within would instantly transmit back to the Imperial Capital headquarters. Within half an hour, the Empire's Griffin Knights would descend from the sky and raze this place to the ground.

His fingers were already resting on the edge of the badge, his muscles slightly tensed; just one more ounce of strength...

Click.

A soft sound interrupted his movement.

The dark crystal glass in front of him, which was originally one-way, suddenly lost its magical effect and became completely transparent like ordinary glass.

On the other side of the glass, a person had appeared at some unknown point.

Levi.

He was standing in the corridor outside the private box, a gentle, even cordial smile on his face, as if he were a gentleman who had happened upon an old friend.

His gaze calmly pierced through the glass, landing accurately on Sorenson's hand holding the badge, without the slightest hint of surprise.

Sorenson's heart suddenly constricted, and a chill surged up his spine.

He had been discovered!

Since when?

The stealth and concealment techniques he took pride in were actually useless before this young man?

Before he could react, there was a soft knock on the door of the private box.

Knock, knock, knock.

A servant wearing a Blackstone Territory uniform respectfully pushed the door open and entered, carrying a kraft paper file folder sealed with wax. He placed it carefully on the table before Sorenson and then bowed and retreated without a word, never making eye contact with Sorenson from beginning to end.

Sorenson's gaze shifted back and forth between Levi's smiling face and that mysterious file. Finally, suppressing the stormy waves in his heart, he tore open the wax seal.

Inside the file folder were not letters, but a thick stack of parchment.

He only took one glance, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

The first page was a transaction record of Baron Dracu smuggling "Soul Steel" through secret channels to the followers of Bael "The Glutton," the Lord of the Sixty-Sixth Floor of the Abyss. The time, location, quantity, and contact person's code name were all present, and it even included a rubbing of the magic contract left by both parties during the transaction.

The second page was a detailed ledger of a certain Viscountess using her family's merchant caravan to sell magic armor-piercing crossbows—decommissioned from the Northern Army and strictly forbidden from entering civilian hands—to orc tribes.

The third page, the fourth page...

Every page recorded ironclad evidence of one of the nobles present tonight secretly colluding with hostile forces of the Empire.

Smuggling prohibited magic materials, selling Imperial military intelligence, colluding with Abyssal cults, and even some secretly funding rebel organizations in the south... Case after case, any single one of them taken alone was enough to have a century-old noble family's entire clan exterminated.

The evidence listed in this document was enough to set off a terrifying political storm sweeping through more than half of the Empire's noble circles.

Sorenson's hand began to tremble slightly. He jerked his head up, looking once more at Levi outside the glass.

The smile on Levi's face remained unchanged. He raised his hand, pointed at the evidence in Sorenson's hand, and then pointed downstairs at those nobles who looked as pale as death, as if their souls had been sucked out.

Then, he silently mouthed a few words to Sorenson.

Sorenson understood them.

The sentence was: "One is the merit of purging traitors, the other is the evidence of massacring nobles. Your report determines the nature of tonight's events."

It felt as if something had exploded in Sorenson's mind.

He instantly understood Levi's entire intention.

This young man had known of his existence from the very beginning!

He wasn't conducting a bloody internal purge; he was performing a play!

A play performed specifically for him, the Imperial Investigator!

He had gathered all the betrayers and all the parasites of the Empire here, and then used the most thunderous methods to catch them all in one net.

Everything he had done was to hand over this evidence, which was enough to overturn everything, through the hands of an "official representative" like himself.

If his report wrote "Blackstone Lord Levi Byron slaughtered nobles," then Levi would produce this evidence to prove he was purging traitors, and Sorenson would instead fall into an abyss of no return due to "failure of oversight" and "slander."

But if his report wrote "Blackstone Lord Levi Byron assisted the Empire in crushing a widespread treasonous conspiracy in one fell swoop," then all the bloodshed and death tonight would become "legal," and would even become massive political capital and merit for Levi.

He hadn't left him a third choice at all.

Just then, a heavy mechanical sound came from the hall downstairs.

That gate made of fine gold, strong enough to withstand a dragon's impact, was slowly rising.

Evelyn, the Succubus Director with a seductive figure but an icy aura, walked in leading a squad of guards dressed in black uniform soft armor who moved silently.

They ignored the guests slumped in their chairs and instead began to methodically clean up the bloodstains and corpses on the floor.

Their movements were efficient and professional, as if they had practiced countless times.

Within just a few minutes, the bodies of Elder Otto and the assassin were placed into special alchemical bags and taken away. The floor was cleaned spotless by a potion that could rapidly decompose bloodstains, and a faint lemon fragrance filled the air, as if that bloody massacre had never occurred.

Immediately after, Evelyn clapped her hands, and the guards behind her took out stacks of brand-new parchment scrolls from a box and began distributing them to the old nobles who had been stripped of everything and were on the verge of mental collapse.

Sorenson had excellent vision; he could clearly see the title at the top of the parchment scrolls—"Blackstone Territory United Chamber of Commerce Employment Contract."

A massacre and plunder were thus lightly packaged as a corporate personnel restructuring.

Sorenson leaned back powerlessly into his chair, cold sweat having already soaked through his undershirt.

He looked at the evidence in his hand, heavy as a mountain, and then at the young lord downstairs who had already begun to dominate a brand-new order; for the first time, he felt shaken about his identity as an investigator.

Crushing the badge was simple; he could still do it now.

The Griffin Knights would arrive and use absolute power to level this place.

But what after that?

What he would face was not just the deathbed counterattack of a monster like Levi Byron, but also the vast network of power, intricately connected and enough to overturn the entire Imperial political situation, that was pulled out from behind this evidence.

Would those giants hidden behind the scenes easily let go of a "small fry" like him who had lifted the lid?

His hand holding the Royal Griffin badge hung suspended in mid-air, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Crushing it was his duty of loyalty to the Empire.

Not crushing it was the sanity of self-preservation.

The moonlight from outside shone through the now-transparent glass, reflecting the struggle on his face in flickering light and shadow.

His hand seemed to be seized by an invisible force, unable to exert strength, yet unable to let go.