Volume 2

Chapter 31 : The Absurdity Mingfuluo Accepted

Life is unpredictable, and the members of Babel Tower had come to understand this profoundly.

Their lives’ ups and downs had been vividly displayed in this time—from the hell of nearly being destroyed by the Grand Princess to the paradise lifted up by Hydra.

It all felt so dreamlike, so unreal.

Yet the truth was, they had escaped the despairing hell of endlessly researching and crafting weapons, arriving at a paradise where they could truly apply their talents and exchange ideas.

All of Babel Tower’s members were now brimming with energy and vitality, revitalizing an organization that had long been oppressed by the Ether Academy and reality’s constraints, finally set free.

Though Babel Tower was currently dominated by theorists, the designs Mingfuluo and Anselm had developed three years ago, left dormant, were enough to keep Babel Tower busy for a long time, expanding production lines and proving their worth.

Babel Tower now shone brightly, its future boundless.

“Mr. Hendrik seems to be restarting the soil enhancement potion production line. Any new projects on your end?”

“Too many! Energy conversion applications for elements, reverse-engineering of truth spells, expanding the ether domain… I’m swamped. I only slept three hours yesterday.”

“Hahaha, you don’t look tired at all.”

“Tired? Five years ago, I was scraping by to get a theory book from some lousy lord, holed up in a shabby room messing with aphrodisiacs and banned potions. Ten days ago, we were forced by the Grand Princess to research deadly weapons. Stop and rest? No way! Not a chance!”

The scholars in the corridor were no longer as tense as before.

Even earlier, when they discussed projects and academics anytime, anywhere, it was never with such ease and comfort as now.

Even the sternest, most rigid old scholars occasionally showed a smile.

Yet, in this vibrant, relaxed environment, one person still maintained an… indescribable air of indifference.

The crisp sound of heels clicking echoed through the corridor. As always, when that person appeared, all discussion quieted.

The same blue-gray high ponytail, the same gray-white glasses, the same plain white lab coat, black pencil skirt, sheer black stockings, and modestly high heels.

The same indifferent expression, the same icy aura.

But the person bearing these well-known Babel Tower traits had completely transformed.

Once tall enough to match Hitana in heels, her stature now hovered between girl and child—not quite a little girl, not fully a youthful maiden, just slightly shorter.

The open lab coat revealed only the slightest curve at her chest, a stark contrast to her former prominence.

Yet her figure remained adult-like, with full, shapely legs and a waist that seemed even more delicate in her now smaller frame.

No one paid close attention to such details, though.

Babel Tower members, upon seeing Miss Mingfuluo, glanced at her head before quickly averting their eyes.

“This is just…” After Mingfuluo passed, scholars couldn’t help but discuss, “Who could’ve imagined Miss Zege’s true form would be so… so…”

Someone hesitated, gesturing a short height.

“We’d better not talk about this…”

“Uh, ahem, right, that’s a bit disrespectful to Miss Zege. Change the topic… She, she seems really busy lately.”

“She’s always busy, but these days… she doesn’t even join project discussions anymore. Always rushing about, no idea what she’s working on.”

“She doesn’t have assistants?”

“Assistants? After that incident…” someone said with a complicated expression. “Who’d dare be her assistant? Though, to be fair, she doesn’t recruit them either.”

The words Conrad spoke on the battlefield, turning the tables on Nidhogg, cast the only shadow over the now-thriving Babel Tower.

Traitor, spy… Even with Hendrik’s efforts to investigate and clean the house, the results were lackluster.

“What do you think Miss Zege was thinking back then?”

“You mean… when she drove out those assistants?”

“No, no, I mean when she decided she’d rather start a war than let us surrender… What was she thinking?”

The discussing scholars fell silent.

“Whatever you think,” the scholar who raised the topic muttered, “I’m grateful to her. Even if the final victory had nothing to do with her, even if her decision might’ve gotten many killed.”

“Babel Tower is my only refuge. If it falls, I have no reason to live.”

“But our research… our expansion of the transcendent, of ether, isn’t for ourselves—it’s to change the world!”

“Changing the world is that easy? Sacrifice is inevitable.”

“What a joke! Have you forgotten most of us were the ones sacrificed before?”

They began to argue again and amid such struggles, some couldn’t help but fall into thought.

That genius young lady, making such a resolute decision without hesitation—was it because her desire to change the world had reached such unwavering conviction…

Or was it driven by… some personal motive?

***

Mingfuluo still didn’t care about others’ opinions… During this time, she methodically conducted her research—developing tools she’d designed, new spells, or conceptualizing novel alchemical instruments.

She wound her gears to the limit, never pausing for a moment.

Until today, when Sulun, her collaborator, sent the first message.

“The person who killed your grandfather is still in the Imperial Capital, but he was just the assassin, not the mastermind.”

This news was crucial to Mingfuluo, but far from sufficient. Sulun clearly knew this and was deliberate.

In this deal, despite appearing to have the Empress as her backer, Sulun was at a disadvantage.

Though she had strange channels for information, her actual influence couldn’t compare to Mingfuluo, backed by Anselm.

Because Mingfuluo could truly make Anselm act, while Sulun, in the Empress’s eyes, was merely a tool to disgust her heir, otherwise worthless.

So Sulun used secrets about Erlin Zege’s death to push Mingfuluo to make decisions step by step.

Sulun didn’t name the price for the next piece of information, claiming it gave Mingfuluo time to investigate the assassin.

But easier said than done… An assassin who killed a fifth-tier alchemical master, even if still in the Imperial Capital—could she find him?

As Mingfuluo paused her work to ponder how to dig deeper, another troubling piece of news arrived.

—Anselm was coming to see her.

Since Babel Tower came under Anselm’s control, Mingfuluo had avoided meeting him, knowing full well that meeting Anselm never meant good news… After that day of taming, his words had seared into her heart.

[Then I’ll turn you into that… ideal monster.]

A deranged monster, willingly abandoning everything for the sake of ideals.

If that was the only way to achieve that vision, Mingfuluo didn’t mind sacrificing herself.

But she also knew that reaching that point would make her nothing but a tool in Anselm’s hands, with no chance of turning the tables.

She always remembered one thing: Anselm Hydra stood with her now, but that didn’t mean he always would, just like three years ago when they parted ways.

At the same time, Mingfuluo pondered the so-called “bet.”

She grew increasingly unable to fathom why it existed or if it was even real, because she could never see through what Anselm wanted or why he acted.

If he bet she’d destroy Babel Tower through obsession and madness, then… Why was he so actively helping her?

And that mysterious figure who repeatedly aided her in the game—what would they do? Or was it all, from start to finish, just Anselm’s lie to cloud her mind?

Even with no sword hanging over her head, Mingfuluo had no room to breathe.

The demands of study and research, Anselm’s pressure, the pursuit of past truths, the danger of opposing Ivora…

She should’ve been freed, yet somehow… She was walking on thinner ice than ever.

Lost in thought, Mingfuluo arrived at Anselm’s lounge door.

After knocking and getting a response, she pushed the door open.

The moment it opened, a subtle scent made the petite woman’s body stiffen slightly.

She was all too familiar with that smell—forced to endure it for nearly half a day and night in Anselm’s bedroom, impossible to forget.

“Anselm… Mr. Anselm… wait… I…”

Seeing the snow-haired girl limp as mud in Anselm’s arms, Mingfuluo immediately lowered her gaze, closed the door, and fell silent.

At the sight of that cascading snow-white hair, Mingfuluo’s first thought was that Anselm was messing with that beast again.

But the soft, sweet gasps, the refined and gentle address and the hair’s length made it clear this wasn’t that arrogant female beast.

“Good morning, Mingfuluo.”

Holding Marina’s soft waist, Anselm chuckled lightly. “How’s your research going lately?”

“…Average,” Mingfuluo said truthfully. “Some progress, but slow.”

“Hm? That’s not like you. New project? Or working on something special?”

Mingfuluo didn’t respond, because Anselm had hit the mark.

Nidhogg, the alchemical device Anselm proved held unmatched potential… Mingfuluo had been secretly studying it lately.

Without a fifth-tier alchemist’s help or Anselm’s guidance, progress was nearly nonexistent, but Mingfuluo refused to give up.

“Not answering, huh… Well, that’s fine.”

Anselm chuckled, straightening slightly.

The girl in his arms, dressed immaculately in an ornate long skirt, trembled, clutching his collar tightly to keep from sliding off.

“Anselm, what do you want with me?”

Mingfuluo kept her head slightly lowered.

Her usually sharp demeanor and cold expression, paired with her now petite frame and appearance, made her submissive look strikingly vivid to Anselm’s evident delight.

“Can’t I visit you without a reason?” He raised an eyebrow. “Babel Tower is, after all, mine now… It’s normal for me to drop by, isn’t it?”

“…You’re right, Anselm.”

“But you look like you’re urging me to look around and leave.”

Anselm sighed. “I’m a bit hurt, Mingfuluo.”

The woman was silent for a moment, then raised her index fingers to tug her lips into a forced smile, her tone flat.

“I warmly welcome you to Babel Tower, Anselm.”

Anselm froze, then burst out laughing at the cute yet intellectually mature face’s cold expression.

“I didn’t know you had a comedic talent… Alright, don’t force it. That look is funny once, but annoying after a few times.”

“Understood.”

By now, the snow-haired girl, who’d rested against Anselm’s chest for a while, shakily pulled a silk handkerchief from her skirt pocket, fumbling inside her dress for a moment.

Then, bracing against Anselm’s shoulder, she struggled to stand from his lap, steadying herself with his amused assistance. Despite her trembling legs, she curtsied gracefully to Mingfuluo.

“Miss Zege, I’m Marina Lansmarlos, Mr. Anselm’s personal secretary.”

Mingfuluo ignored the faint drips beneath the ankle-length skirt, nodding slightly. “Hello.”

“Mr. Anselm’s visit to Babel Tower is a private one, known to few.”

The girl, moments ago limp as mud, quickly regained her composure, her poised elegance making it hard to connect her to her earlier state.

Lansmarlos… Hitana’s sister?

…What is this? A distortion?

“So I hope you understand… Mr. Anselm came for you.”

“I know,” Mingfuluo nodded, dismissing her odd thoughts. “I knew when he called me to meet him.”

“All the better.” Marina smiled. “Next, Mr. Anselm would like to see your recent research results… You understand, don’t you?”

In the past, Mingfuluo would’ve retorted, “Whether I understand or not doesn’t change what he does.” Now, she paused briefly, then said softly, “Alright, follow me.”

On how to deal with Anselm, Mingfuluo had a new plan, different from before.

Before that rough taming, she’d believed Anselm wanted to make her fully loyal to him.

As long as she saw through that, she wouldn’t fall for his traps, and even if she did, the damage would be minimal.

But now, she understood… Anselm had given up on her.

If she couldn’t be loyal, he’d turn her into a tool—emotionless, selfless, perfectly obedient.

And this method perfectly targeted her weakness: her faith, her ideals.

In other words… If there was a chance to achieve that future, Mingfuluo wouldn’t hesitate to become a tool.

But she couldn’t fall completely, being entirely at Anselm’s mercy, in such a short time.

The only way was…

How absurd, Mingfuluo thought.

I’ve resolved to abandon everything, yet because of him… I must find a way to reclaim my emotions.

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