Chapter 944 How Much For That Information

944 How Much For That Information

While Oros was wracking his brain to prepare planet B842 for the impending energy crisis, elsewhere on the planet in high orbit, a certain civilization and their national Floating Island faced an entirely different plight.

The Earth Union and New Earth were on the verge of receiving an unexpected visit from an emissary hailing from far, far away.

They were unaware of it yet, but in their eyes, this calamity would likely not be less dire than the future increase in Aether fees tied to transportation and Ordeals that had not yet struck them.

Atop a skyscraper built in the style of the Empire State Building, an unassuming figure appeared beneath the magnificent levitating Yellow Cube at its top. Since violence was prohibited in an Oracle City and this alien's power was not particularly high, its request for a diplomatic visit to their territory had been granted without issue.

This towering Yellow Cube, several hundred meters wide, experienced constant traffic from travelers, tourists, and soldiers continuously entering and leaving. For this reason, the presence of this alien, surprisingly almost human, went unnoticed at first, blending in with the crowd.

This alien, with a cold and unapproachable face, could easily pass for a native Earthling with its 1.8-meter height, short-cut brown hair, impeccable dark blue checkered suit, and a tie two shades lighter perfectly adhering to the dress code so prized by New Earth politicians. Its efforts to resemble its interlocutors showed that the emissary knew what it was doing and was not on its first mission.

Upon arrival, the alien furrowed its brows, moistening its lips and clearing its throat while mentally rehearsing its speech. Its unmoving posture soon drew the attention of several soldiers responsible for the Cube's security.

Especially when it revealed a trace of its true aura for a split second, a predatory energy more compact than a nuclear bomb, which sent shivers down the spines of all humans and aliens present, including New Earth soldiers. With this modest demonstration of its strength, it immediately gained the attention it sought and much more.

"Hands up!" A South American-looking soldier barked aggressively, aiming his assault rifle at the alien.

"Lie down on your stomach, hands clasped behind your back." Another soldier shouted almost immediately after seeing the alien obediently raise its hands, putting on a slight innocent smile to show it had no ill intentions.

This was what the alien wanted. To be wrongfully arrested, and if possible, mistreated by these primitive Earthlings. That way, negotiating with these apes would be much easier. It was a trick it used every time and never tired of.

Otherwise, it and the faction it represented could have easily contacted them through the Oracle System to avoid this charade.

Interplanetary communications were not cheap, but for the faction it represented, it was only small change.

Unfortunately, these soldiers had been correctly warned about how to treat aliens of unknown identity, and before it could comply with their demands with a hidden smirk, a third, older soldier with a Sergeant insignia stopped them with a single word.

"Identity and purpose of presence." The noncommissioned officer was not one for nonsense and immediately took charge by asking the important questions.

The alien sighed internally, disappointed that its little scheme had not worked. Keeping its lips sealed, it simply shared through thought the file containing all the data it was authorized to reveal regarding its faction and itself.

From how the hitherto stoic sergeant's face fell apart, a film of sweat covering his forehead, it was more than enough to achieve the desired effect. All the while, the alien maintained its congenial smile.

"I-I must reach my superior. Please wait a moment." The soldier stammered, his parched throat betraying his newfound deference.

Around an hour later, the alien found itself

seated comfortably in a leather armchair at the City Hall, grimacing with appreciation as it sipped the black coffee that had just been served. The room was luxuriously furnished and decorated to accommodate dignitaries of alien races.

'Their technology is primitive, but this bitter concoction isn't half bad,' It mused inwardly, savoring the aroma wafting from the steaming beverage.

Across the table sat a middle-aged man adorned with medals, standing tall in his military uniform, and a stunning young woman with long white hair, noticeably shorter, both wearing expressions of exasperation as though they were victims of some grave injustice.

"But I tell you, I don't have it anymore!" Ruby cried out in frustration for the umpteenth time, on the verge of tearing her hair out. "I lost it!"

Indeed, the target of this alien emissary was none other than Ruby Hale. The muscular man with a rigid and unyielding temperament was General Eric, the military officer overseeing the Ordeals throughout the Earth Union, as well as the Prodigies project among many others.

With seven Ordeals under his belt, he ranked among the most powerful Evolvers of New Earth. As one of the first to colonize B842 and receive an Oracle Device, he had valiantly plunged into the hellish landscape of the Ordeals, conquering trial after trial to honor his homeland. Of the thousands of soldiers who participated in the Ordeals alongside him, only a select few, all of whom had become generals, survived.

After seven Ordeals, he and the others temporarily halted their adventures at the insistence of the Earth Union Government and received prestigious positions as rewards. This was because they were the only soldiers who had reached such heights, and New Earth was still too infantile a nation to do without them.

Most accepted the promotion without protest, loyal to their homeland and unsure of their chances to survive the next Ordeal. Some, like General Eric, obeyed reluctantly, but ultimately acquiesced due to the uncertainty of surviving their Eighth Ordeal.

In the end, only one soldier was permitted to continue participating in the Ordeals: General

Rob, the most formidable human of New Earth.

Rumors circulated that he had just completed his Eighth Ordeal, while less credible accounts claimed he had survived his Ninth.

Unperturbed and finishing his coffee, the alien, having just been yelled at, delicately placed the cup on the polished wooden coffee table before him. This time, he declined a third serving and, staring coldly into their eyes, rested his chin on his clasped hands, his elbows propped on his thighs.

Locking eyes with him, a palpable killing intent washed over them, and Ruby, who no longer possessed the constitution and fearlessness of a Digestor, involuntarily shuddered, her complexion paling. Only after the colossus beside her shielded her with his aura did her breathing return to normal.

Displeased and visibly annoyed, General Eric growled, discarding all semblance of respect and etiquette,

"Mr. Balus, Ruby is an honest soldier and has no reason to deceive you. Moreover, I am certain a super faction as influential and noble as Mirror

Vanguard has plenty of ways to verify our claims. "Your Purple Hell is not in our possession," He concluded, his tone resolute.

Bang!

Mr. Balus's fist slammed onto the coffee table, shattering it into pieces and sending splinters of wood flying in every direction.

"Enough!" The alien exclaimed, his frayed nerves erupting into an explosive rage, a stark contrast to his stoic demeanor just moments before. "Of course, Mirror Vanguard has the means to verify who possesses our Gold Artefact. But the trail ends here. She devoured one of Vexa's clones and the Purple Hell in its possession. As a Digestor Trojan at the time, the trail is obscured.

No Oracle Path can predict the location of our Artefact."

"But Ruby is no longer a Digestor Trojan," General Eric countered with evident delight. Colonel Hale and the other high-ranking officers could hardly believe it either. "And I don't plan on forcing her to talk if she doesn't want to."

On the surface, General Eric seemed to relish the alien's frustration, but deep down, he was just as exasperated. Learning that their most promising Player had become Jake's Oracle Slave was a devastating blow to them.

She likely knew far more about Jake's abilities than they did, but she had refused to divulge anything about him. As for Jake, obtaining information about him through the Oracle System had become nearly impossible since the end of his Fourth Ordeal, as it charged an outrageous sum.

Mr. Balus could see that neither Ruby nor General Eric were lying, but he was no fool and could sense when he was being led around in circles. Regardless of their claims, his Oracle Path indeed led here. Ruby, this general, and even their teammates aware of the truth. He had no intention of leaving without the answers he sought.

Changing tactics, the alien turned back to Ruby and said more amiably, "You say your Digestor half was killed. By whom?"

Ruby and General Eric exchanged a knowing glance, and reading each other's thoughts, they agreed it was time to cash in their chips.

"How much for that information?" Ruby suddenly asked with an innocent expression, catching Mr. Balus off guard.

However, upon hearing her question, a broad, relieved smile illuminated the alien's impatient, crinkled face. As long as the other party was willing to negotiate, he was confident he would get what he desired.

A few minutes later, Mr. Balus slammed the door of City Hall and stormed back to the Yellow Cube with an infuriated stride and the expression of someone who had just been duped. After paying 2 trillion Aether points, he had finally obtained the name he wanted.

A name he could have deduced on his own if that damned bracelet hadn't led him here in the first place.

Jake Wilderth.

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