Chapter 484

But after only a few sentences, they were led back to their posts by their respective superiors to continue their endless work.

The four of them, however, were quite interested in the photo of Herta not far away.

It was nothing complex, just a transparent screen displaying a photo of the young Herta, identical to the one in her office.

It seemed that to show importance, one had been specially arranged here.

It looked as if Herta herself were present.

Except.

At this moment, a staff member was stroking their chin, staring at Herta's photo, not knowing what they were doing.

……

Just as Asta was leading Screwllum forward, the Foundation's light screen was playing an interesting scene.

Ask yourself.

When you discover that there is inexplicably one more person in your home, what would your reaction be?

What if this person is your immediate superior?

And what if this immediate superior happens to be a corpse?

After the other party is efficiently sent away by a dragon and packed into a small jar.

Perhaps one could celebrate grandly, or invite three or five friends to gather, using dark humor as an appetizer.

Celebrating that this detestable viper and beast has finally gone to their promised land ahead of schedule.

Sophia looked at the corpse before her, feeling only the fear of falling into an abyss.

The corpse of the O5 Councilor radiated an excessive chill, a cold that penetrated to the marrow.

On the kitchen counter, O5-10 lay face down, her right hand tightly clutching a bottle of vintage red wine.

No one had expected such a scene.

O5-10 had only just appeared, had just been forcibly silenced by O5-1, and yet... it was all over in an instant.

"……6"

"I don't feel this was necessary. Could it be that O5-10 violated O5-1's prohibition, ultimately leading to her assassination?"

"I don't think so. This is clearly just being drunk."

"The most high-end struggles often employ the most primitive methods, for example: poisoning."

……

Sharing the same judgment as the audience.

"Hiss——"

A sharp intake of breath, the brain began to congest.

Sophia forced her breathing to steady, tapping her heart through the thick fat, using the heavy sound of a bass drum to cover the restless snare drum.

She finally confirmed that the person before her was indeed the young Councilor O5-10, with black hair scattered across her shoulders and arms.

Her right hand clutched the "requisitioned" precious vintage from her collection, and her left hand held a crumpled note.

"Strange……"

Sophia did not find any signs of violence or forced entry in the house.

Murder? Suicide? A trap? Or what……

Her thoughts surpassed the speed of light in an instant; cruel rumors within the Foundation echoed in her ears, and in her blurred impression, she only remembered that some people had been silently replaced.

As thoughts flashed by, Sophia reached into her pants pocket, grabbed her pepper spray for self-defense, and closed the door with a "click."

Then she walked to another wall and pressed the switch.

The kitchen was instantly brightly lit.

"Thud!"

O5-10's fist slammed hard onto the granite countertop.

Sophia immediately looked at her, only to see her clutching the wine bottle tightly, as if trying to crush it with brute force.

O5-10 raised her head, brushed aside a few strands of hair blocking her face, and smiled painfully at Sophia:

"Hello there, Light. I was just wondering when you would be home."

"You're not dead?!"

"Of course, the only one who can kill an O5 is another O5."

O5-10 rested her chin on the countertop and shifted slightly, feeling the bone-chilling cold again, which was very comfortable.

She shifted her gaze to the wine bottle, then lazily raised her hand, rubbed her neck, and hesitated.

"——And the Administrator…… the latter excepted, he could reset the entire O5 Council situation if he wanted to."

Sophia quietly sized up this young high-ranking official. She was not a newcomer to the Foundation, retaining the most naive and pure perception of the world, but rather carried a vigilance etched deep into her genes.

When facing an O5 Councilor, this vigilance was necessary.

But the O5-10 before her was very un-O5-Councilor-like—tall, hunched, jeans paired with a formal jacket, very strange.

Sophia was willing to believe that O5-10 was not being messy on purpose.

She might truly be in a crisis, a crisis more terrifying than death.

But O5-10 was thinking about the wine.

"And I'm sorry about the wine."

"We're afraid it might be poisoned, so we can't drink the wine we store ourselves."

"You wouldn't be that 'All-Knowing One,' would you?" Sophia smiled.

That was the name for the O5 body double.

Sure enough, O5-10's lips curled up, filled with disgust and anger:

"What reason would I have to send my double to break into your house and drink your wine?"

"Then what reason do you have to come drink it yourself?"

O5-10 pursed her lips and looked down at the note in her left hand—she was venting her frustration on it by adding scratches.

She suddenly stood up and gazed at Sophia in the corner, her expression sincere and pure, as if she were about to share some small secrets.

"Sophia, we haven't met before, not formally—only through my All-Knowing One."

"You know who I am, but I've never spoken to you before."

As she spoke, O5-10 extended her right hand to Sophia, suspending it in mid-air.

"Hello, Director. I am O5-10, the creator of Project Alpha-9. I heard you were almost killed last week just for following my orders, and I am very, very sorry for that."

"……" Sophia began to wonder if O5-10 was an illusion.

In this world, there actually exists an O5 Councilor who would apologize to a subordinate?

Sophia moved her gaze without concealment, scanning her room, looking for signs of reality warping or hallucinations.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to be found.

So, she took O5-10's hand and shook it.

"Hello, O5-10. I am Sophia Light, Captain of Alpha-9. What could bring you here so late?"

"Classified business, Sophia." O5-10 sighed. "Bloody, chaotic, world-ending, classified business."

It sounded like some Lovecraft enthusiast piling up nouns, hoping the reader could imagine the appearance of those Old Gods.

But often, things go against one's wishes.

Excessive piling of adjectives only makes the reader want to stab the author.

Of course, unless they are on the same wavelength.

"But if the situation hadn't been approved for me to know, you wouldn't be here." Sophia spread her hands.

"Analyzing from a semantic perspective, when an anomaly doesn't exist, you naturally cannot hear its report." O5-10 shrugged.

Sophia retorted:

"Semantically speaking, as long as it can be discussed, it can be reported."

"I concede." O5-10's mouth curled, and she turned to mention a rather unfamiliar anomaly.

"How much do you know about 'SCP-2000'?"

"That's an empty slot—it always has been." Sophia frowned. Since she became Captain of Alpha-9, she had read every anomaly file she could access.

But there was no anomaly coded 2000, just as the anomaly coded 001 remained pending to this day.

People are always obsessed with numbers endowed with special meanings, and the Foundation is no different.

"Is this that non-existent anomaly?"

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