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Chapter 52: Sudden Change
Goa Kingdom, High Town.
In the deepest council hall of the royal palace, the atmosphere was so heavy you could wring water from it.
The nobles, dressed in splendid attire, all sat bolt upright, breathing carefully.
The King, sitting high on his throne, was pale. He cleared his throat, his voice holding an unconcealable tremble.
"Gentlemen. We have just received word from Mary Geoise."
"A World Noble, a Celestial Dragon... will be gracing our Goa Kingdom with a visit in the near future."
Boom!
The words set off an invisible shockwave in the quiet council hall.
All the nobles' faces twisted into a complex expression, a mixture of extreme terror and sickening fanaticism.
A Celestial Dragon!
A descendant of the Creators!
The true gods of this world!
They were coming... here!
"Your Majesty! This... this is an unparalleled honor!"
A portly, oily noble was the first to react, scrambling to his feet in his excitement.
"We must receive His Holy Grace with the highest specifications, with the most devout attitude!"
"That's right! We absolutely cannot allow the noble Celestial Dragon to see a single unclean thing in our Goa Kingdom!"
"This is our best chance to wash away our shame and prove our loyalty to the World Government!"
The nobles began chattering, a chorus of insincere pleasantries and vows of loyalty.
In the corner, Outlook III stood silently.
A sickly flush appeared on his face, and his breathing grew heavier.
A Celestial Dragon... is coming?
His mind uncontrollably flashed to that damned shop owner, to that calm face that drove him mad.
And to those... stray dogs... who had dared to touch him!
Humiliation!
Unprecedented humiliation!
And now, a perfect opportunity, a chance to burn that trash, along with his shame, to ashes... had fallen from the sky!
This was a divine gift!
"Silence!"
The King rapped on his armrest, barely maintaining order.
"The preparations to welcome His Holy Grace must be flawless. Especially... the city's appearance."
The King's gaze, intentionally or not, drifted toward the window, in the direction that clashed so horribly with the royal capital.
"The Gray Terminal. That trash mountain... must be cleaned up."
"We must ensure the noble Celestial Dragon sees a clean, orderly, and noble Goa Kingdom!"
As soon as he finished.
"Your Majesty!"
A passionate voice, filled with suppressed excitement, echoed through the hall.
Outlook III stepped out from the corner.
He puffed out his chest, his face glowing with a near-holy radiance.
"Merely 'cleaning' it... is not nearly enough!"
All eyes focused on him.
Outlook III spread his arms, speaking as if reciting an opera.
"The Gray Terminal. What is that place?"
"It is the tumor of our Goa Kingdom! It is a hotbed of sin and filth! It is the grime caked onto our beautiful robes!"
"To allow such a place to exist is, in itself, a blasphemy against the very word 'noble'!"
"And now, His Holy Grace is arriving! How can we allow the eyes of a god... to see a garbage heap existing alongside our kingdom?"
"This is not just disrespect to His Holy Grace. It is an insult to the bloodline of every noble here!"
Every word he spoke was inflammatory, striking precisely at the fragile, arrogant nerves of every noble.
"I propose!"
Outlook III's voice suddenly rose.
"A... thorough... 'Great Cleansing'!"
"With fire! We will use fire... to purify that filthy trash mountain, along with all the 'trash' inside it, living or dead!"
"Only then... can we welcome the noble Celestial Dragon with a truly flawless Goa Kingdom!"
"Only this... is worthy of our nobility!"
The council hall fell silent.
The nobles were stunned by the insane vision Outlook III had just described.
Burn the entire Gray Terminal?
Along with... all the people inside?
"Outlook... are you mad?"
An older noble finally spoke, his voice dry.
"The people there... they may be trash, but there are too many of them. If we burn them all, the resulting riots and resistance... I fear..."
"Yes, and what if the fire gets out of control and spreads to High Town?"
"Besides, it's too big of a commotion. It will look bad if word gets out..."
A few scattered objections arose.
They weren't speaking from mercy, but from concern for their own interests.
"Heh..."
Outlook III let out a low, cold laugh.
He scanned his hesitant peers, his eyes filled with contempt.
"Riots? Resistance?"
He took a step forward, glaring at the older noble.
"A bunch of trash that can't even feed themselves. What will they resist with?"
"As for the fire..."
A cruel arc twisted his lips.
"We just dispatch more men to stand guard at the walls of High Town. Is that not enough?"
He paused, his tone turning sinister as he asked, word by word.
"Or... are you saying..."
"You want His Holy Grace to arrive... look out the palace window... and see that the Goa Kingdom is neighbors with a giant garbage dump?"
"That responsibility..."
Outlook III's voice suddenly became sharp!
"Who will bear it?!"
"You?!"
He pointed at the older noble.
"Or you?!"
He pointed to another dissenter.
"Who?!"
The three words "Celestial Dragon"... hung over them like an invisible mountain, crushing them.
The nobles who had been about to speak, instantly swallowed their words.
Bear the responsibility?
For angering a Celestial Dragon... because they didn't take out the trash?
What a joke!
Their entire families would be erased from the world!
The older noble's face went pale. His legs buckled, and he almost fell.
The air in the hall froze.
No one dared to raise another objection.
The King looked at the silent nobles, then at the fanatical Outlook III. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
He knew how insane this plan was.
But he knew even better... how terrifying the consequences of offending a Celestial Dragon were.
Finally, with a trembling hand, he slammed his armrest.
"Then... we'll do as Outlook says!"
"Before the noble Celestial Dragon arrives..."
The King closed his eyes, unable to bear the thought.
"Burn the Gray Terminal... and everything in it... to ash!"
The decision was made.
A cold, dead silence enveloped the hall.
The meeting ended.
Outlook III walked out of the palace, his head held high.
The afternoon sun shone on his handsome, but twisted, face.
He looked toward the distant trash mountain, a hazy gray smear, like the world's unwanted child.
His lips... slowly... curled into a smile of the utmost cruelty.
A butler-like man appeared silently behind him, bowing.
Outlook III didn't turn. He whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, a voice like a hissing snake.
"Send my orders."
"Starting tonight... block all exits from the Gray Terminal to the outside world."
"Not even a fly... gets out."
His eyes gled with a bloodthirsty glee.
"This time..."
"Leave no one alive."