Chris frowned, "How much does Count Hyman know? Can we use this information to cooperate with him?"
"The water here runs very deep," Karl shook his head. "Count Hyman's wife, Misir, is a Dark Elf, and she has been lurking for a long time."
He thought of the cultivation and screening mechanism for Little Boy, which had already become an industrial chain.
The Little Boy they found certainly weren't all consumed internally by San Marino City.
"I suspect there's some kind of deal between Count Hyman and the Dark Elves, or perhaps he's already controlled by them."
Karl's mind flashed back to Count Hyman's eyes when he met him, which held an indescribable effeminate quality.
Chris remained relatively calm upon hearing the words "Dark Elf," her brows tightly furrowed.
She pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke: "Dark Elves, they worship the Spider Mother Goddess, believing in 'perfunctory' gaining power from other races through 'sexual' acts, without any ethical concepts—mother and son, father and daughter, brothers and sisters."
"On the continent, they have long engaged in slave trafficking and are wanted by all nations on the continent."
Karl had no knowledge of these Dark Elves in his memory. Upon hearing that they were wanted by all nations, he merely found it amusing:
"From the intelligence I have, the Dark Elves' sphere of influence and control within San Marino City doesn't look like they're being hunted at all."
Chris was startled, then lowered her head and remained silent for a while: "I've heard some rumors that a small number of nobles have secret collaborations with Dark Elves."
"These Dark Elves are born trainers and teachers, using dark magic to modify bodies and cultivate good slaves, which can be sold for exorbitant prices..."
Her voice grew softer and softer.
Karl watched Chris, seeing her with her head down: "Hmph, hmph, it seems you need some quiet time."
He lazily lay back on the soft bed and waved his hand, signaling, "Go back."
Chris kept her head down. After a long moment, she finally stood up, bowed respectfully to Karl, and left the room, her mind heavy.
Karl watched her retreating figure. He had originally thought Chris was a saintly woman, untouched by worldly affairs.
But now, it seemed she knew more than he had anticipated.
With just a few simple sentences, she had guessed the sordid deeds Count Hyman was doing in secret.
Karl took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He also needed some time to organize his next plan.
The situation was developing to be more complex than he had initially imagined.
The most important thing for him to do was to eliminate the formless daughter.
Just then, there was another knock on the door.
Karl's eyes narrowed slightly; the footsteps were not Chris's.
After knocking, the other party pushed the door open.
Aisha, wearing a black trench coat, was followed by Loyi: "Mr. Karl, I apologize for disturbing you with this late-night visit."
As she spoke, she took off the longsword at her waist, leaned it against the wall, and then walked in.
"It's alright, I couldn't sleep anyway," Karl said casually from his bed, ignoring Loyi's resentful gaze behind Aisha.
Instead, he seemed to be greeting an old friend.
Aisha was equally natural, walking to a nearby chair and sitting down with an elegant posture: "When I was in Wind Chime City, Miss Sylvie, the Brave, once told me that you believe this world is wrong. Would you mind telling me why?"
Upon hearing this, Karl immediately perked up and sat up from the bed: "Of course, this world is wrong. When I become the Lord of the Continent, the first law I will enact is that women can only wear black lace suspender stockings and high heels when going out."
"?" Aisha.
PS: Today, my dear readers are probably all spending the holiday with their girlfriends and don't have time to read, so I only updated one chapter~
Chapter 50: Extreme
"Women can only wear black lace suspender stockings and high heels?" Aisha's expression showed hesitation, her brow slightly furrowed as she tried to understand Karl's words.
Suspender stockings and high heels were indeed quite popular among male nobles, considered a fashion statement.
However, the noblewomen she knew more commonly wore elaborate long dresses with intricate patterns.
She didn't understand why Karl would emphasize that women must wear suspender black stockings and high heels when going out, or what connection this had to changing the world.
Did clothing choices have some profound impact?
Karl's 'Das Kapital' made her feel that Karl's thinking far surpassed that of any politician of this era, which was why she chose to meet him.
Aisha was silent for a long time, completely at a loss: "Mr. Karl, I don't fully understand what you mean. But I think, essentially, we are the same kind of people."
"We both feel that the world is sick and needs fundamental change, and we are both looking for ways to change it. Your ideas are ahead of mine."
Just then, a hurried footsteps suddenly sounded at the door.
Sylvie held her longsword, her eyes burning with fury, staring intently at Aisha: "Aisha!"
Behind her, Chris was accumulating magic in her hand, looking as if facing a formidable enemy, cautiously on guard.
Aisha was unusually calm. She glanced at the two of them indifferently, her voice sincere: "Don't be nervous. I'm only here today to talk with Mr. Karl."
Sylvie tightened her grip on the longsword, her gaze shifting between Aisha and Loyi.
A look of struggle flashed in her eyes.
Finally, she slowly lowered her hands, and the tip of her sword pointed to the ground.
She hesitated. As the Brave, she faced Aisha, Loyi, and Karl, all opponents she could not defeat.
Chris frowned slightly. She noticed that the unyielding momentum in her companion was fading.
Aisha turned her gaze back to Karl: "Mr. Karl, regarding what you said about the inherent limitations of the nobility, I deeply agree. I sincerely invite you to join us in creating a whole new world."
Sylvie and Chris exchanged glances. They hadn't expected Aisha to invite Karl.
The two sides were currently enemies.
"You're inviting me?" Karl raised an eyebrow, examining Aisha with interest: "I have no interest in working for someone."
"Yes," Aisha said sincerely. "I believe we are the same kind of people. I want to create a world where all races have equal rights. If Mr. Karl's ambition is also this, then I am willing to join you."
"Captain?" Loyi asked in surprise, but Aisha silenced her with a gesture.
Aisha's eyes were fixed on Karl, with anticipation in them: "As you pointed out, the limitations of the nobility and the contradiction of population resources."
"Even if I overthrow the existing kingdom, I still cannot resolve these two fundamental contradictions. As you said, this will only become a tragic cycle."
"Mr. Karl, if you can give me the answer, I am willing to lead everyone to join you."
Chris looked surprised, her gaze shifting between Aisha and Karl.
This enemy, who had caused her immense pressure, was now actually proposing to join them, and a sense of absurdity welled up in her heart.
Chris felt that Karl's theory made some sense, but she wasn't particularly shocked by it.
It was Aisha, as an enemy, who seemed to take it very seriously.
Karl narrowed his eyes, looking at the Mature beautiful older sister type Aisha with golden hair in front of him. He wasn't sure how much truth there was in Aisha's words.
If what she said was true, then she was undoubtedly a pure idealist.
If he truly wanted to start a revolution in this world, Aisha might become a good comrade.
But Karl had a clear understanding of himself; those theories were merely for show, and he couldn't even explain the true details.
To actually implement them would be beyond his capabilities.
Moreover, compared to starting a revolution,
He yearned more to become stronger. the mother body of the formless daughter was Loyi, and her subordinates were all symbiotes of the formless daughter, which were his designated targets for purification.
This fact had already destined their inherent antagonistic stance.
"Just kill them," Karl raised his hand. "In the country I create, only one basic principle will be observed: the wicked will be punished."
Karl raised his hand: "Whether they are nobles, wealthy merchants, or commoners, if they commit a crime, they will be sent to the gallows."
"I will equally bestow death; I will not let them escape punishment because of their status."
"As long as the vested interest groups that generate evil are all killed, there will be no problem with the limitations of the noble system. What remains will naturally be law-abiding nobles." As he finished speaking, the mouths of the several women present dropped open.
Aisha's expression also stiffened; she evidently found it hard to maintain her composure.
Karl looked at everyone's astonished expressions and continued, "People who live honestly should not be bullied."
"The evil that occurred in San Marino City, if all participants, from the City Lord to all involved soldiers, servants, mercenaries, buyers, sellers, and every link, are killed without exception, then evil will no longer exist."
The scene was utterly silent, falling into an eerie quiet.
Aisha's lips twitched involuntarily a few times: "This... isn't it too extreme?"
She tried her best to calm down, taking a breath: "Then what about the population problem? As Mr. Karl said, the land can only support a limited population after all."
Karl, however, merely sneered, "Don't worry, living beings are ultimately greedy. Even with the most stringent laws, some will transgress. As long as enough are killed, there's no need to worry about population issues."
"This world, in the final analysis, is an oppression from top to bottom, layer by layer. This is wrong. What we should protect are those who truly abide by the law, live honestly, do not harm others, and live conscientiously."
The room once again fell into a long silence.
After a while, Aisha stood up: "Mr. Karl, I will seriously consider your ideals."
With that, she bowed to Karl, and with Loyi close behind, turned and left.
Aisha's steps were somewhat erratic, completely different from the calm demeanor she usually projected.
Clearly, even the villains found Karl too extreme.
Chris stared at Karl with a strange expression: "Karl, are you serious? Do you really intend to build the world you speak of?"
She was a saint, of course, she did not agree with Karl's theories.
"Of course, I'm serious. Why should good people be bullied? This world is wrong," Karl said casually, as he was just spouting nonsense and finding a self-consistent reason.
Just then, Sylvie, who was beside them, suddenly erupted with a strong wave of power.
Her eyes were firm, no longer showing the confusion and helplessness of recent days.
She stared intently at Karl, as if she had found some kind of faith or goal: "I will no longer be lost, Karl. I will help you, even if it costs my life!"
Karl was startled. Sylvie was a Child of farmers, belonging to the lowest oppressed class in this world.
Her experiences made her very susceptible to extreme ideologies.
"Of... of course," Karl said, facing Sylvie's fervent gaze, feeling that the problem wasn't too big; he had merely put forth some extreme ideas.
All races are equal, kill all criminals and oppressive nobles—such extreme ideas should not have much market in this world.
Instead, it might be good to trick some simple-minded fellows into working for him.
Karl's expression was solemn: "That's right, this is our goal!"
Chapter 51: I'm Not a Foot Fetishist
In the dimly lit basement, a damp and musty smell permeated the air. Misir's body was lightly covered by a thin veil, unable to conceal her seductive figure.
The characteristic curves of a Mature beautiful older sister type female body, with an exaggerated waist-to-hip ratio.
Even more striking was her dark brown skin, smooth and alluring like chocolate, and her long, well-proportioned legs, spread apart on the examination table.
Between her thighs, a Dark Elf with similarly brown skin was diligently examining her.
She had the same sexy body curves as Misir.
However, unlike Misir's mature charm, she leaned more towards the Mature beautiful older sister type style.
At this moment, her brows were tightly furrowed, and her expression was not good.
"There are muscle tears both front and back, about twenty centimeters in length. Judging from the extent of the injury, they are marks caused by prolonged, repetitive friction."
Misir's face was grim: "Hill, the situation at the time was very strange. I didn't feel any abnormalities, as if that period of memory had been completely erased. There were other people around me, and they also showed no signs of anything being wrong."
Hill pondered for a long time, her hand on the wound, her fingertips tracing inside: "It sounds like some kind of mental ability. After the attacker assaulted you, they used this ability to make you forget that period of memory."
Misir's expression grew even uglier. To be able to attack her silently.
And even make her forget a period of memory—such a method was chilling to think about.
And why attack her?
What message did they want to convey to her?
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