Leon gave a subtle nod toward Silas, who immediately understood.
With a sharp gesture, Silas directed Jake to join the other two selected individuals.
"All who have been paid have thirty seconds to leave this room."
Silas announced, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Stay at your own peril."
The short-statured man standing beside Jake didn't dare step forward. Instead, he called out from a distance, "Sir… what about the payment for the three of us…"
Before he could finish, a soft ding echoed from each of their devices. One hundred and fifty thousand credits had been transferred to each of them.
Just as Jake was about to speak, the same man ventured again, "Th-thank you, sir… but shouldn't you have transferred fifty thousand first and… asked if we were willing to continue?"
Silas didn't respond until every last outsider had hurried out. Then, his tone turned dangerously calm.
"By choosing to stand there, you accepted."
"But, sir… I thought you would ask…"
"If you wished to leave, you should have done so earlier."
"It's not that, sir, I just meant…"
Silas cut him off:
"You accepted the credits. The contract is now binding. Are you attempting to breach it?"
Silas's aura erupted—a crushing wave of intent that slammed into the three selected individuals.
The other two dropped instantly to the floor, gasping under the pressure.
Jake's body shuddered; it was his first time truly feeling the presence of a Stellar Rank warrior.
Yet, to his surprise, the expected sense of suffocating oppression never came.
Puzzled but cautious, he followed suit and sat down, choosing to observe quietly.
"S-sir… I was wrong," the smaller man stammered from the ground. "I didn't mean to question…"
Silas didn't release the pressure.
His gaze swept over Jake and the other candidate, who quickly mumbled, "No… no breach intended."
Jake simply nodded calmly, showing compliance.
[The situation leaves no room for defiance.] Jake thought. Arguing now was pointless.
Only then did Silas withdraw his aura. Turning away from them as though they were already instruments of a greater design, he spoke to Leon.
"Will three be sufficient?"
Internally, Leon agreed—it was enough. But aloud, he replied with measured reserve:
"It should be. I cannot say for certain… but it ought to succeed. When my father led the attempt, the odds were worse. He still managed to thrust this pendant into my hand.
Now… with preparation this thorough, and with you and Uncle Vincent—both far surpassing my father's strength—how can we fail?"
Silas Von puffed out his chest, a renewed confidence gleaming in his eyes.
"Your father may have reached the peak of Aspella Class, but what you might not fully grasp, Leon, is the chasm between Aspella class and the Stellar Rank."
He smirked, casting a sideways glance at Vincent. "So long as these… Baseline human volunteers… can pry open the first door of the convergence point, failure is mathematically impossible. And after that? Well…"
He and Deputy Master Vincent Franks exchanged a look so smug it could curdle milk, then burst into booming laughter that echoed obnoxiously around the cavernous room.
The sound sent shivers down the spines of the three "chosen ones."
Even the most optimistic among them now suspected that being selected might be… very bad news.
The short guy glanced nervously at Jake, then at the slightly round-faced man beside him.
"My name's Rolly B. Rockbottom. You can just call me Rolly. You?"
"Jake, Jake Nickelson."
"Sam Maconfodder."
Rolly squinted. "Sorry, 'Cono Foder-what'?"
"Macon…fodder. Ugh, forget it—just call me Sam." He sighed dramatically. "I've got a seriously bad feeling about this."
"Tell me about it," Rolly muttered. Jake stayed silent but nodded grimly.
Just as the trio was sinking deeper into shared dread, Silas's voice cut through the gloom.
"You three. Get over here. Now."
"I am Silas Von," the man in black began, his tone leaving no room for casualness.
"Head of the Frontier Martial Academy. This is my deputy, Vincent Franks." He gestured toward the stern-faced man beside him.
"And this is Leon Keeper. Like you, he is a Baseline Human. Unlike you… he is the only one here who has been to the target location."
A sharp gasp came from Rolly. "The Frontier Academy? As in… the Frontier Academy?!"
Silas shot him a dismissive glance and didn't bother to respond.
Even Jake felt a chill. None of the three selected had ever seen Silas in person, but the name of the Frontier Academy was legendary throughout the Sanctuary-79 Outer Districts—everyone knew it, and everyone knew not to cross it.
Silas ignored their stunned expressions and continued, his voice like ground stone.
"Wipe those worried looks off your faces. If I intended you harm, you wouldn't have been paid in advance. I do not explain myself. I do not waste words."
"You have only one duty: do not ask what shouldn't be asked. Do not speak what shouldn't be spoken. Follow my instructions. Succeed in the task, and the final payment will be transferred immediately. Is that clear?"
Jake, Rolly, and Sam nodded silently. Not one of them dared to ask a thing.
A thin, unpleasant smile stretched across Silas's face.
"Good. It seems we understand each other."
After he finished speaking, Silas Von swung down the pitch-black backpack he'd been carrying all along.
The bag was made of some unidentifiable material, dark and matte, but radiated an aura of absolute durability.
Silas flipped open the lid and tapped a sequence on the integrated display panel.
With a soft hum, he pulled out a full-sized plasma assault rifle.
Then a second one.
A third.
A fourth.
"A Spatial Rucksack!" Rolly blurted out, unable to contain his awe yet again.