Chapter 102 : Chapter 102
Chapter 102. I’ll Add the Lemon!
Lilith lowered her head.
Her golden bangs hung down, covering her eyes.
Only those slender, delicate hands slowly clenched into fists.
The joints cracked with an unsettling “crack crack” from the excessive force.
“Management?”
Lilith’s voice was very soft, so soft it sounded as if it were being squeezed out through clenched teeth.
“Auxiliary staff?”
“Pouring water?”
She suddenly raised her head.
In those dark green eyes, where was the grievance and shock from earlier?
All that remained was pure, violent killing intent.
“To hell with your management!!”
Lilith let out a thunderous roar.
The stone slab beneath her feet instantly shattered as her entire body turned into a blur and charged straight into the cell that had not yet been locked.
“I might not be able to beat him, but I can’t deal with a piano-playing pretty boy like you?!”
“Ah!!!”
Iowen did not even see what had happened before he felt a heavy punch slam into his stomach.
His entire body curled into a C-shape like a cooked shrimp.
“Stop! Don’t hit my face! Damn it! I’m an executive! Are you trying to start a rebellion?!”
“Rebellion your grandmother’s leg!”
“Ow! Not there! My leg’s going to break! Professor! Save me!”
“Scream! Go on, keep screaming! Weren’t you pretty smug just now? You even wanted lemon in your water? I’ll give you lemon! I’ll give you a big slap instead!”
Bang bang crash crash.
Clatter clatter.
The narrow cell instantly erupted into chaos.
Screams, curses, and the sounds of flesh colliding tangled together, composing an extremely tragic symphony.
Of course, thanks to the soundproofing barrier, Logaris “heard absolutely nothing.”
Very good.
It seemed the new employee’s onboarding training was progressing smoothly.
The team atmosphere was very lively.
Logaris ignored Iowen’s miserable cries for help behind him.
Humming cheerfully, he walked toward the stairs.
Next, it was time to prepare a grand gift for the newly appointed Chief Judicator.
Logaris walked to the central workbench and pulled out a document.
[Chief Judicator Protection Plan]
Anyone who sat in Cicero’s position immediately became a living target.
The old nobles of the Northern Territory and those black-hearted merchants—who among them did not want to swallow him whole?
Logaris had finally crawled out of that rotten swamp called the judicial system.
He could not allow this replacement to get eliminated after only two days.
Finding another tool this useful would be far too troublesome.
“Since it’s a high-risk position, it requires the highest level of protection.”
Logaris muttered to himself and snapped his fingers.
“Bzzzz—”
From the ceiling of the workshop, four massive enchanted mechanical arms slowly descended.
The various cutting, polishing, and enchanting tools at their ends gleamed with a cold metallic luster.
Logaris took out a massive piece of soft leather with a faint earthy-yellow glow from a temperature-controlled materials box.
It had been peeled from the belly of an adult fifth-tier Earth Dragon.
It was both extremely tough and soft to the touch, making it an excellent material for the inner lining of top-tier magical armor.
“Target pattern: Meriga Federation–style three-piece suit lining.”
The command was issued.
One of the mechanical arms fired a slender high-energy mana beam from its tip.
The beam was thinner than a strand of hair as it rapidly moved across the dragon hide.
Within seconds, a perfectly tailored dragon hide component shaped to match a suit lining was precisely cut out.
If the old tailors in the royal capital—who still used scissors and measuring rulers—saw this technology, they would probably kneel on the spot and call him their grandmaster.
Immediately afterward, the other three mechanical arms began working simultaneously.
“First spellwork: ‘Trigger-Type Siphon Shield.’ Permanent enchantment. It must be capable of blocking the full-force strike of a fifth-tier evocation mage within 0.1 seconds.”
“Second spellwork: ‘Greater Regeneration.’ Permanent enchantment. The kind that can reattach severed arms and legs within ten minutes.”
“Third spellwork: ‘Fixed-Point Spatial Teleportation.’ Coordinate locked to this workshop. Once life signs drop below ten percent, immediate forced teleportation. No objections accepted.”
Countless strands of mithril thread, thinner than spider silk, were woven into the dragon hide lining by the mechanical arms at speeds too fast for the naked eye to follow.
They formed one complex and deadly defensive magic array after another.
Finally, Logaris layered an illusion spell on top.
From the outside, it looked like nothing more than an ordinary, crudely made commercial stab-proof vest—the kind that cost less than one Golden Lion Coin.
“Done.”
Logaris looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction.
Wearing this equipment, even if someone blasted Cicero point-blank with a meteor explosion, he would still survive.
He might even have time to straighten his tie afterward.
With this thing in place, Logaris could stir up the Northern Territory without worry.
…
Three days later.
Logaris was completely absorbed in dismantling and researching harmonic magic.
That unlucky fellow Iowen had already been thoroughly squeezed dry.
All the knowledge about harmonic magic in his head had been categorized and organized into hundreds of data models.
This discovery made Logaris extremely excited.
The essence of harmonic magic was actually triggering elemental resonance through vibrations at specific frequencies.
If that could be combined with some of his other magitech devices…
At that moment, a Communication Crystal on the workbench suddenly began buzzing, interrupting his train of thought.
Slightly annoyed, Logaris connected the call.
The anxious voice of a city gate guard came from the crystal.
“Report, Professor! Mr. Cicero’s carriage has clashed with the guard unit of Viscount Gleiman’s household at the inner city gate!”
Logaris frowned.
He had already gotten into trouble this quickly?
His efficiency was rather high.
Logaris quickly stood up and walked outside.
Meanwhile, at the inner city gate of Winter City, a seemingly ordinary black carriage was surrounded by more than twenty vicious-looking noble private soldiers.
At the front stood a brutish captain with a face full of flesh.
He arrogantly pointed his riding whip toward the carriage.
“The people inside the carriage, get out here! Do you know whose road this is? It belongs to Viscount Gleiman! Your broken wheels dirtied the Viscount’s road. If you don’t leave five hundred Golden Lion Coins today, none of you are leaving!”
Behind the captain, a young noble dressed in luxurious clothing with a pale complexion—Viscount Gleiman—sat arrogantly atop a tall horse.
However, his gaze was not as domineering as his subordinates.
Instead, it carried a greedy desire as he stared fixedly at the carriage.
At the station earlier, he had accidentally caught a glimpse of the breathtaking beauty of the woman inside the carriage.
That single glance had stirred improper thoughts in his mind, prompting him to stage this “trouble-making” incident.
Inside the carriage, there was no movement at all.
The captain grew impatient.
With a ferocious grin, he raised his riding whip and prepared to lash it toward the carriage window.
“So you think you’re important, huh?!”
At that moment—
Behind the carriage, the door of another transport carriage used by Cicero to carry luggage suddenly opened.
Several elderly men wearing gray, worn-out trench coats slowly stepped down from the vehicle.
They looked like old men who spent their days strolling in gardens with birdcages.
All of them were quite old, with graying hair and wrinkled faces.
Yet their backs were perfectly straight.
Especially their eyes.
Calm and completely without ripples.
When those eyes swept across the aggressive private soldiers, it was no different from looking at a few stray dogs by the roadside.