Chapter 1166

NO. 70: The game may not be real, but the cards are definitely real.

Aomo had always been familiar with the name Trexith.

This familiarity did not come from the mobile game data in that 'otherworld memory', but from his meeting with that Executor in the Guilait universe's Guilait Station.

At the end of that meeting, when that Executor tried to contact the so-called 'pickup driver', he attempted to reach the 'El-Melloi' in his universe, but the response was a steady male voice.

Not to mention whether that 'El-Melloi' was also the Clock Tower stomach ailment legend he knew, the other party's conversation indeed mentioned titles such as 'Trexicia' and 'Dr. Rosenthal'.

And the demon lady named Ursula was clearly trying to act as if she hadn't heard, yet still displayed a hint of restraint.

It is not hard to guess that there is some kind of positional relationship between the two.

Nor is it hard, from the above clues, to pinpoint that Chief Executor's social circle.

Of course, while 'what kind of life does my other-universe self lead' is naturally concerning, Aomo Lindun is a more pragmatic demon.

He did not try to retain the clearly unwilling Executor to learn more information.

Now, although he can communicate through the Guilait universe's connection with Gilbalis's 'Galatron Signal Station Construction Project' to contact Hu Yuta and Ma Zhongpeng, etc.

But contacting his other-universe selves is another level of difficulty.

The trouble is enough to make the recently restless Aomo hesitate.

Even if this leads nowhere, Aomo has already seen, from his other-universe selves, a glimpse of the possible composition of his own interpersonal network.

Simply put, it is 'who I might possibly interact with'.

Of course, only possibly.

And it can only be possibly.

Just like you who does civil engineering work and you who does information engineering work, the circles you come into contact with, and the interpersonal networks extending from them, necessarily exist with significant differences, just as everyone's life paths inevitably differ due to their choices, so the people they know and their close relationships will also be vastly different.

But there is always a part that remains unchanged.

The width of this part depends on the similarity of your lives to each other.

Aomo Lindun does not know how similar his life is to that of the Chief Executor, but by now, Ishamara, the lady beside the Beast King, is not without value as a warning bell.

A very important warning bell, which made him experience various oddities today and even made him unable to suppress a few doubts about Bai Ren.

But this doubt, again, does not quite add up.

After all, if it were truly the Beast King's side monster chef, he should not have been triggered by these days' performances into liking it, unless the monster concept in the other's eyes had already blurred and expanded to include even demons.

Really?

It's not some monster nine-grid, Aomo himself would not classify demons into the monster category.

Unless this demon could also turn into a giant, or further undergo beastification, etc.

After all, there are indeed not a few cosmic beings created by Aopeng using demon elements.

Not to mention the Mefilas star人, which is a Mephisto concept element, just from appearance—

—like the Kiri艾洛德人 transformed into flame warrior, once united with Ultraman Tiga as the dark evil god Dark Lugiel, are similar straightforward existences, essentially giant demons.

But even if they are called cosmic beings, and although maybe one could draw their cards, Aomo still finds it hard to regard them as monsters.

Besides not mentioning Bai Ren's peculiar preferences, the Lindun trainer during off-hours does not want to ponder too much about school matters.

After work, one must learn to set aside all work-related matters—this is the survival truth of the corporate slave.

Of course, the premise is that your job is not the type that calls you back mid-shift for overtime.

【35> In this world, some jobs, such as that of a doctor, often do not come with the provision of silencing communication tools.

Some jobs in this world, like that of a doctor, often do not deserve to have their communication devices silenced.

And among these, the trainer counts as half.

In most situations at school, you do not need to rush back, but if something happens to the Uma Musume's personal safety, that notification will surely arrive immediately.

But that is obviously an extreme situation with extremely low probability.

Even the Lindun trainer, who is not optimistic, finds it hard to regard this as the top priority for consideration, and besides, having said so much, don't forget that Narita Bai Ren is the Uma Musume under Mitada Ayaka.

The person in charge is plenty, no need for you to worry.

——With this mindset, he turns his thoughts back to the present.

Now, he looks at the red-eyed man of sturdy build, clad in armor, and his gaze naturally sweeps over the man's head, where one long and one short pitch-black horn protrude.

And beneath those horns, the ears that slant backward and taper to a point.

——Still a demon.

In fact, the race of the Trexith Chairman, the Sarkaz, is commonly despised by foreign tribes in their homeland as 'demon folk' or 'demons'.

This people typically possess strangely shaped horns and pointed ears.

Many also have tails with fleshy growths at the tip, very much in line with the demonic race definitions in fantasy works.

And if placed before stricter ethnologists, they would likely be classified as a type of overt demon-human hybrid.

In the Holy Terra Federation, such overt demon-hybrids, like these Sarkaz, usually simultaneously possess physical traits of both demons and humans, with the proportion varying by case.

And if they do not undergo bloodline purification, their appearance in this life stops here.

Compared to Aomo's latent hybrid, which upon awakening can instead rely on magic power to display a complete demonic form, they are like the two ends of a scale.

Moreover, because they are overt, such demons mostly live directly in the demon realm, their self-identification leans more toward demon than human, and

even their identification documents are registered in the demon manner.

But the Sarkaz are ultimately a tribe of wanderers.

In the Holy Terra Federation, the ethnic classification of wanderers should still lean toward the wanderers' own self-judgment.

Just like the wolf girls Cherenina. 德克萨斯 and Lapland. 萨卢佐, whose IDs also mark them as human, as long as you truly believe yourself to be human, you can make the federal lie detector agree.

Then your ID's ethnicity field can be marked as human.

The Sarkaz are the same.

Such groups integrating into human society would not cause any particular shock, because the current federal subculture atmosphere has already fostered many natives who indulge in all sorts of bizarre makeup and props.

For example, relying on prosthetic modifications to add organs to oneself, such as eyes, ears, tails, horns, etc.

Whether due to differing aesthetics or a pursuit of stimulation, this group may not align with mainstream societal tastes, but as long as the human population is large enough, even non-mainstream groups can have substantial numbers.

So numerous that they could even secure several special living zones.

Therefore, even if you don't look human, identifying as human is perfectly fine.

After all, there are people locally who look even more bizarre, and blending in with them makes you feel more human than anyone else.

In a certain sense, Aomo Lindun is also one such human.

Although he does not pursue such makeup or appearance, as a being marked on his ID as human/demon, he can still make the Sakaz feel that extreme appearance if he is willing to expend magical power.

But this is clearly unnecessary.

"I hope I haven't come too late… I am Treshis, chairman of the Kazdail National Defense Committee—are you the one Dr. Rhodes mentioned as the power provider?"

The man with one long and one short pitch-black horn, and a pair of blood-red eyes, introduced himself while scrutinizing me with a cold gaze.

To Aomo, this gaze was overly familiar—familiar like the mirror he sees every time he enters the washroom.

At that moment, that mirror stood upright between the two of them.

Aomo likewise scrutinized him.

He examined the full-body armor forged from unknown metal and fiber, noting every minute scratch and dent from abrasion and impact.

In fact, compared to appearance, armor reveals one's temperament more clearly than ordinary clothing.

Especially for someone of high status and authority, whose choice of armor far surpasses that of an ordinary warrior.

The choice of style, craftsmanship, and pattern reflects both the artisan's dedication and the armor wearer's preferences, habits, and even aesthetics.

It is like a highly accomplished portrait, allowing you to infer the painter's thoughts from every detail of brushwork.

And the expectations held during the creation of the figure.

Just as the other man formed his impression of me in under two seconds, I responded in this scrutiny within about one second:

"Aomo Lindun, head of Lindun Agency, serving as consultant in this commission—first meeting, Chairman."

"Acting as a consultant? You may think so if you wish."

Though there had been such a heavy, silent scrutiny and eye contact earlier, the man now shifted his gaze away at these words, as if losing interest, no longer paying attention to the youth who would bring great change to their world.

He turned his gaze to the doctor.

"I was originally busy and not skilled at this kind of work, but Treysia still couldn't let go of our little disagreement."

"A little disagreement?" Rhodes smiled helplessly, "Even the future that would get you killed in Victoria is, in your view, just part of this minor disagreement?"

"Since that possibility has been severed, there's no need to mention it anymore."

The man replied with unusual calm.

"That book doesn't even exist, and the National Defense Committee itself is the best proof."

"We cannot ignore every possible future that might go wrong—this is precisely why we collaborated on that Terra simulation, isn't it?"

"Are you going to treat the game played by those interdimensional beings as equivalent to our masterpiece?"

"You should know, Rhodes Island internally also refers to the Terra simulation as a game."

"……" This statement was clearly unheard of by Treshis, so he slightly furrowed his brow, "What I've heard is that you want those pioneers' steps to be lighter and swifter."

"No harm done—calling it a game serves both to reduce their psychological burden and because not everything in this simulation is fully reliable."

The doctor said: "Compared to the future foretold by the Cyclopes, this is closer to a game."

"And then you invited the most outstanding player of that game?" Treshis's gaze shifted back to the quiet, melon-eating Aomo.

"That's admittedly a bit embarrassing."

Aomo, who didn't expect the melon to fall on his own home, felt somewhat perfunctorily flattered.

This lightheartedness didn't provoke any particular reaction from Treshis, who had already undergone considerable subtle training in this life and was far from becoming the sort of figure mentioned in early forum discussions—'as if always ready to give Doctor Kelshi a sword.'

"These are two different matters, Treshis."

After walking a few steps, the doctor stood between him and Treshis, blocking their line of sight while also observing the latter.

"Although many aspects are still worth scrutinizing, the power he wields is entirely unrelated to the simulation itself."