Thales subconsciously pushed the wheelchair. The surrounding environment was blurred in the darkness. Only the figure of the old man in front of him was clear and scary.
Hold.
This was the first word that came to the boy's mind.
He looked solemnly at Morat in the wheelchair, and accidentally touched the black-veined vine, causing the latter to shrink.
Damn it.
Even if you know the truth about "mind reading", even if you have gone through six years of experience, even if you think you are quite prepared...
The Black Prophet is still the Black Prophet.
Even though there are no clues or evidence, you can still smell the truth by following the smell of deception and lies.
His father, his grandfather, the rulers on the High Throne, how did they face this old monster?
How could they rest assured that such a poisonous snake, a dark figure filled with insidiousness from beginning to end, held an important position in their imperial council and held the power of intelligence?
Thales held on to the wheelchair tightly.
But more importantly...
At that moment, everything in the Blade Fang Camp and the Prison of Bones, whether it was Quick Rope, Sak'el or Little Barney, passed before Thales' eyes one by one.
[You were tortured and escaped through all kinds of hardships...not just to change a pair of shackles...]
those people……
The debt they carried, the suffering they suffered, the pain they experienced...
Thales tensed the muscles in his arms.
"Your Highness?"
Morat still didn't look back, leaving Thales with only an empty and thin outline of the back of his head.
It was in perfect contrast to the endless haze he brought.
Thales raised his head slightly.
"I do not know what you're talking about."
"What's the crime?"
No.
At that moment, the young man silently said, No.
No matter how intimidating the Black Prophet is, there is no way to break through from him.
He must hold this line.
No matter what the cost.
Morat sneered:
"I believe Yodel must have told you not to be in front of me..."
"Lying?" Thales suddenly spoke, interrupting the Black Prophet.
Morat glanced slightly sideways.
"You're right." After making the decision, Thales no longer thought about it:
"I did lie."
"Right now, right in front of you."
The prince's expression was unflattering, and his next words were even colder:
"so what?"
The Black Prophet froze.
The corridor was deserted and dark, except for Thales's own footsteps, which echoed back and forth without concern, covering up the frightening sound of the demonic vines.
"I lied."
With gritted teeth and a will to not care, Thales said coldly:
"Because I don't want to tell you the truth, and I don't want to embarrass each other."
"And your damn mind-reading power - I don't know how much of it is real - tears apart this tacit understanding every time, leaving no room for room, and forcing us into a corner together?"
Morat slowly turned his head and looked at Thales with a rare look.
But Thales hadn't finished speaking yet. He stared back at the Black Prophet, trying his best to forget the fear that had taken root when they first met:
"Why."
"To prove that you can do this? To show your power? To get the chips you want? To blackmail me and control me?"
Thales summoned the Sin of the Hell River and tried his best to stabilize his heartbeat and breathing, blocking any possible expression of emotions.
He imagined that he had become hard-hearted and invulnerable at this moment.
The corridor was quiet for a moment.
"Because it's my job, kid."
Morat spoke slowly, his voice hoarse and dry, with a mixture of joy and anger:
"Be prepared for danger in times of peace and eliminate threats."
Thales paused.
The wheelchair stopped suddenly, causing Morat to sway slightly.
The footsteps stopped and the darkness remained. Only the flesh and blood of the demon in the wheelchair shrank back and forth, squirmed and curled in the corridor. The strange rustling sound added another touch of deathly silence to the atmosphere.
"Then this is my choice, your lord."
A few seconds later, Duke Xinghu’s emotionless voice sounded:
"I lied, out of my own interests and considerations."
"so what?"
From an invisible angle, the Black Prophet narrowed his eyes slightly.
"And you used the wrong title, Morat," the second prince looked straight at the darkness ahead: "There is no 'child' here."
"Only Thales Brightstar."
Morat was silent for a moment, then hummed softly.
"your choice?"
"Even if your choices could endanger the kingdom?"
"Even if your willfulness may go against your father..."
boom!
Thales slapped Morat's wheelchair hard, causing the demonic vines above to squirm violently and muffling the Black Prophet's words with a loud noise.
"Then let him come to me."
Black Prophet's eyes narrowed.
The next second, Thales exerted force on his hands and slowly turned the wheelchair around so that the frail old man faced him.
At the same time, he also forced himself to look face to face with this well-known head of the secret department.
"Go ahead and tell him."
Thales' voice was very soft, but emotionless, so cold that it made people shrink.
"Tell him that I have hidden a group of front-guard criminals outside the palace who are familiar with the palace regulations and have extraordinary skills." His tone suddenly changed:
"So that I can launch a coup at the critical moment, seize the Fuxing Palace and make myself king."
The Black Prophet said nothing.
The demonic vines on his legs surged again.
Morat took two gentle breaths, seeming to adapt.
"how?"
Duke Xinghu stretched out his hands, held down the arms of the chair on both sides, and slowly leaned down, approaching Morat's old face - although this was not comfortable.
"Didn't he send me here just to let you ask such a thing?"
Thales looked directly at the Black Prophet at an extremely close distance, and could even count the wrinkles on the other person's face:
"Be prepared for danger in times of peace and eliminate threats?"
The surrounding darkness seemed to become more and more arrogant, invading everything in sight, leaving only the two people staring at each other.
Morat's eyes were as dull as before, not moving slightly, and Thales could not get any information from them.
But he knew he couldn't back down.
Finally, as if a century had passed, a smile crept onto the old man's face.
"I have to admit, this is an unexpected surprise."
Morat looked at Thales carefully and said:
"Your Excellency the Duke."
Thales also twitched one corner of his mouth, showing an insincere fake smile.
"There are many things you didn't expect," he let go of the arm of the chair, straightened up, and called the other person's nickname: "You are not the only ones who are tired of wiping other people's butts."
"Black Prophet."
Morat leaned back on the chair, and the change of movement caused the black-veined vines to rustle.
"You look very confident, Duke Thales," the head of the Secret Service narrowed his eyes:
"I am confident that those prisoners who escaped will not pose a threat - whether it is to you, your father, or cause damage to the relationship between you."
Thales snorted coldly.
"so what?"
The prince repeated this sentence for the third time, his eyes as cold as frost.
He spoke softly the next second:
"Didn't my uncle, the former second prince, Horace Brightstar, already do the same thing in the Year of Blood?"
Black Prophet's eyes suddenly widened.
"He secretly hired desperadoes like Black Sword, bribed Shadow Shield assassins, instigated thousands of people in the royal capital, bewitched the guards in the guard, and made them cooperate tacitly to seize the palace, coup, and even assassinate him at critical moments.
The late king and the late crown prince."
Thales' face was expressionless and his tone was unconcerned:
"Until he died on the eve of his return to the country and succeeded to the throne, he was betrayed by the former Duke of South Triest."
"But it won't happen again. Neither my father nor you are that stupid."
The old man in the wheelchair was silent for a long time and looked at Thales for a long time.
He looked into Thales's eyes, as if looking at a treasure:
"You are really good at gathering information, aren't you?"
But Thales ignored the other party's answer and just stared at Morat:
"So you know."
The sin of the Hell River roared in his veins, helping the prince resist other impulses:
"Those prisoners in the Prison of Bones, you know, some of them obey orders, some have no choice, some have no choice, some are at a loss, and some have no idea."
The Black Prophet just stared at him closely and said nothing.
"Collaboration?"
Thales sneered:
"They may have neglected their duties, but more than anything, they are fighting among themselves for the blood relatives of the Bright Star royal family, and they have to bear the blame."
He thought of little Barney in the Prison of Bones and the dead Naji, and gritted his teeth and said:
"Bury the past."
Morat closed his eyes and took a gentle breath, as if savoring the dim light and depressing atmosphere.
"I see."
The Black Prophet slowly opened his eyes and looked directly at Thales:
"As to why you let them go."
Thales didn't hide away, met the other person's eyes, nodded and said:
"They have paid the price for not seeing the light of day for more than ten years."
"And at least on the day I met them, they fully atone for their sins."
He sarcastically said:
"It's much more useful than an intelligence agency that's full of loopholes and only knows how to wipe its ass afterward."
Morat did not make any excuse, but continued to stare at him, with unfathomable thoughts in his heart.
"Therefore, I gave them freedom as a reward."
Thales continued, with a firm tone that could not be refuted: "Use the most low-key, safest, most in line with the interests of the kingdom, and without damaging the reputation of the royal family."
The prince took a deep breath and adjusted his mood:
"Now, your lordship, Morat Hansen."
"Either you go to my father and tell him that his only son is raising dead soldiers to protect fugitives, and has evil intentions to covet the throne. He should be eradicated as soon as possible to avoid future troubles."
The Black Prophet was stroking a demonic vine on the arm of the chair with a profound expression.
"And I will talk to him directly, one-on-one, face-to-face, king to king."
"I will bear his wrath."
Thales looked solemnly:
"But this part is just a matter between me and him, and you no longer need to get involved, Lord Hanson."
With the arrogance he had experienced from King Nun and King Kessel, he said coldly:
"Because as a shining star, I only answer questions from other shining stars."
The corridor became quiet.
Morat looked back at him, emotionless.
Thales narrowed his eyes:
"Either you just keep to yourself."
"Put away your sniffing nose in front of me, curb your self-proclaimed prophetic powers, control your voyeuristic desire in the secret department, and mix less with the lies I take the initiative to say, and less often use this strange tone.
threaten me."
Silence seized control of the conversation.
All I could hear in my ears was the endless rustling of demon flesh and blood, like snakes and rats scurrying restlessly, and like mosquitoes and flies eating carrion.
The next second, Thales's face turned cold!
He suddenly reached out and grabbed a restless black-veined vine beside the arm of the chair.
The entire demonic flesh on the wheelchair shook violently.
Black Prophet's expression changed slightly.
"Shut up this damn noisy thing."
The sin of the Hell River surged, and Thales gritted his teeth and exerted force, tore out a section of it and threw it to the ground.
"Or I'll do it."
He said coldly.
The effect was immediate, and the demon's flesh and blood immediately "escaped" away from Thales' direction and toward other parts of the wheelchair.
The rustling sound disappeared.
Throughout the whole process, Thales stared at the Black Prophet without moving his eyes.
Morat calmed his breathing, but looked at the vines that were struggling on the ground, gradually losing activity, and finally turning into dead branches.
Far-reaching vision.
After a few seconds, he turned his head and looked at Thales again.
"The journey to the North is indeed extraordinary, Your Excellency the Duke."
"In the past, you were not so tough. Even if you took the initiative, you would inevitably be anxious, hasty, and unfamiliar."
Morat narrowed his eyes, feeling both emotion and surprise:
"But, look at you: whether it's threatening or extorting, or being tough or spying, you're so good at it, it's like instinct."
"What changed you?"
What changed me?
[Then think carefully, what did you become after you became a prince? 】
【Are you still you or Thales? 】
[Or has it... turned into something else? 】
Thales frowned and put aside what Quick Rope had said.
"It's nothing."
He straightened up and forced himself to say toughly:
"That's the only way I was born."
"And you woke up too late."
Morat was silent for a while.
"They must be very important to you, right," the old man in the wheelchair said with great interest:
"Those criminals."
Thales snorted coldly.
"Forget it, if you want to bring up the same idea of 'eliminating weaknesses' six years ago," the prince recalled the frank exchange in the Ballard room and said with disdain:
"My father has been chattering all morning."
The Black Prophet said nothing, still waiting for his answer.
Thales looked away, trying his best to forget about the people in the Prison of Bones.
"It's not them that matters."
"It's me," he gritted his teeth: "My principles, my rules, my choice."
"Loyalty will be fat-ahem-rewarded."
Duke Xinghu lowered his head and looked directly at Morat:
"And those who hurt me must pay a price."
"Do you understand, my lord?"
The silence lasted especially long this time.
Until Morat, who was watching him silently, raised the corners of his mouth and smiled strangely.
The vines on his legs were still squirming, but their amplitude was much less severe.
Looking at the other party's smile, Thales tried hard to hold back the anxiety in his heart.
"Don't worry, Your Excellency Duke, I am not such a heartless person."
The Black Prophet put his hands on his knees, narrowed his eyes and said:
"Since you have opened your mouth and vouched for yourself, we will give you face no matter what."
At that moment, Thales breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.
"Besides, it's been eighteen years."
Morat tapped the wheelchair gently, seeming to comfort it, while his eyes were lost in thought:
"Those old people from Fuxing Palace have long been out of date. Their damage is limited and they can't afford to make big waves. Naturally, there is no need for me to waste my budget and issue arrest warrants."
Well, except maybe one person.
The intelligence chief came back to his senses and grinned:
"It's just that, Your Excellency, please give us more trust next time."
trust?
Thales frowned.
"Williams is not professional after all," Black Prophet said calmly:
"It's not like the secret department can't arrange things like suspended animation."
He glanced at Thales:
"And you don't have to use this way of looking at death to avoid trouble?"
Thales' thinking froze and he spoke with difficulty:
"certainly."
The Black Prophet smiled:
"But your father will know sooner or later, do you understand?"
Thales paused:
"certainly."
"Then can we continue, Your Excellency the Duke?"
Thales took a deep breath, grabbed the back of the wheelchair again (the black-veined vines fled to the other side again), turned it in the right direction, and hid Morat's face in the invisible darkness:
"certainly."
Thales stepped forward and they moved forward again.
"Very good, you are on your way." Morat said leisurely.
Thales moved:
"What?"
"I've been in the Secret Service for a long time, kid."
This time, Morat’s words were a bit sad:
"I don't know since when, everyone has become cautious and timid in front of me."
"And as for a person who has no burden at all and is not afraid of lying to me?"
Those who are not afraid of speaking out against the Black Prophet...
Thales thought about this sentence carefully.
Morat continued:
"Since the passing of the late king and Crown Prince Midir in the Year of Blood, only Sunset knows that I have not met such a person in my life for a long, long time."
He chuckled lightly, as if he remembered something, and slowly shook his head.
Thales looked strange.
He couldn't believe that he actually felt... nostalgia and sentimentality in the words of this notorious intelligence chief?
"So what before then?"
Thales took advantage of the situation and asked:
"My uncle, my grandfather, how do you get along when they stand in front of you?"
Black Prophet was silent for a second.
"Like you just now."
Thales' steps stagnated, but he adjusted quickly.
"Whether it was the late king or the late crown prince, they never feared or worried about lying in front of me - even though they knew that I had the ability to recognize the lies they told."
In the endless darkness and desolation, Morat said quietly:
"And you know why?"
Thales thought for a moment.
Eddy II, and Crown Prince Midir...
They never fear or worry about lying in front of the Black Prophet?
Thales was a little surprised.
At that moment, he suddenly recalled the image of the two people described by King Kessel in the Tomb of the Stars, and also recalled the king who was the enemy of the world mentioned by Thacker in the Prison of Bones.
But he reacted quickly.
"that power."
Thales thought:
"Because they have the power."
"They're not afraid of you."
"It doesn't matter what you know."
He stared blankly at the back of Black Prophet's head:
"And as a servant of the lower reaches of power, you have no motive or need to expose their lies."
For some reason, at this moment, Thales was thinking of the night when he and Quick Rope revealed each other's identities.
[This has nothing to do with your strength, Thales. On the contrary, the greater your strength and power, the tighter the chain will be, the deeper it will be, and the more difficult it will be to break free. 】
【Like our father.】
"well said!"
The Black Prophet suddenly clapped his hands and laughed.
He laughed for several seconds before slowing down his tone.
"that power."
"Only power."
Morat’s words were full of exclamations:
"Power is not afraid of lying."
"To a certain extent, it likes to lie, is happy to lie, and is good at lying. Only in lies can the power it possesses flow, distinguish between ourselves and the enemy, and manifest its existence."
His tone slowly tightened, causing Thales to become alert for no reason:
"It can become real power only when it truly makes people go against their will and nature, and makes those who feel wrong begin to become insensitive, convincing themselves that they give up questioning and believe lies."
Thales was a little lost in thought.
"The emperor's new clothes, the elephant in the room."
The prince said quietly:
"They lie to us, we know they are lying, and they know we know they are lying, but they keep lying and we keep pretending to believe them."
Black Prophet tasted it for a while and said "hmm" in confusion.
"I didn't say that," Thales came back to his senses and coughed:
"It's what a female author said...someone from the North."
Morat was silent for a while, seeming to be recalling, and then denied:
"No, there is absolutely no such statement in the North."
Thales was embarrassed at first, and then smiled in relief.
"Indeed not," he said without hesitation:
"I'm lying."
The Black Prophet smiled:
"I know."
Thales snorted softly:
"Yes, I know you know."
He raised his head and looked at the road ahead. A door was revealed at the end of the corridor:
"So, when I lie next time, please understand me."
Morat exhaled and seemed very satisfied:
"Welcome aboard, Duke Thales."
Thales was silent for a while:
"My pleasure, Lord Hanson."
The Black Prophet nodded and said:
"It's just that you have to understand that when I knew it but didn't expose you - I was also lying."
His words carry profound meaning:
"Don't get too used to it."
Thales' eyes were filled with illusions.
【Twisted, Thales, twisted.】
[They were all twisted and captured, including my father and brother, Thales, who were captured, enslaved, and lost by power. 】
[In those chains, they became something else: cold tools, cold-blooded scum, and suspicious tyrants, but they were no longer themselves.]
"Of course," Thales was stunned and stopped thinking about Kuai Rope's words:
"certainly."
The boy's steps moved forward steadily.
For some reason, after some negotiation and testing with the Black Prophet, he clearly relieved the crisis and blocked the threat for the guards prisoners and the fast rope.
But it is different from every previous escape.
This time, he didn't feel at all relaxed.
I felt relieved for a moment.
On the contrary, this time, especially when the Black Prophet laughed, Thales felt that the burden on him was getting heavier and heavier.
Getting tighter and tighter.
Hard to escape.
He tightened his grip on the wheelchair unconsciously.
"One last question, kid."
Thales' ears tightened, and he felt infinite vigilance in his heart.
"Can it be more stable?"
Under Thales' strange expression, the old manager of the secret department leaned back on his chair and let out a sigh of helplessness:
"You're almost pushing me to pieces."
————
Finally, in a complicated mood of embarrassment and anxiety, Thales followed the instructions and pushed Morat into a dark room.
Thales let go of his wheelchair and looked at this strange room with doubts - it was simply decorated, small in size, and had poor visibility. The biggest feature was that there was a huge mirror mounted on the wall facing them, which barely reflected the reflection of him and
The blurry figure of Morat sitting and standing.
However, at the next moment, a light spot appeared on the mirror, and the entire mirror lit up.
Thales frowned and stepped back, but he immediately discovered that the "mirror" revealed another larger room, and Raphael standing in it.
"One-way glass," Morat chuckled: "It is made by infiltrating bituminous crystal and it costs a lot of money."
"We can see them, but they can't see us."
I know, I've seen it, who are you trying to fool?
Unhappy, Thales kept the above words deep in his heart.
"Where is this?"
"trial room."
Morat replied simply:
"Please remain quiet, Your Highness, we are not yet able to achieve perfect one-way sound transmission - we cannot do it cheaply."
Thales frowned and looked at the room on the other side of the glass. Raphael was saying something to several subordinates, and the latter exited the door.
The Bone Man turned around and nodded slightly in the direction of Black Prophet and Thales.
"Who are you going to interrogate?"
Thales said doubtfully:
"Anke Bailar last night?"
Morat did not answer the prince, but looked around the dim surroundings and sighed:
"Ah, no matter on this end or that end, I really miss this place."
"This glass in particular is of great significance. When we moved, we almost moved it over intact."
"Why?" Thales stared at Raphael on the other side.
Black Prophet snorted softly.
"Eighteen years ago," he pointed at the one-way glass, his eyes gleaming with energy, contrary to his old demeanor.
"Sitting on the other side of this glass is a young but notorious nobleman from Exeter."
"The Earl of Menton City from the Black Sand Territory."
He whispered a name:
"The name is—Charmaine Lombard."
Thales was startled and looked at the glass again.
"And here, I am standing in your position. As for my position, the Crown Prince of the Stars is sitting..."
Morat exhaled a breath, full of remembrance:
"Midir Bright Star."
In the dark and depressing room, the Black Prophet slowly said:
"The dragon chick bites the dragon king, and the oath will end. New blood will replace the old blood, and the great furnace will be opened."
"That year, Dragon's Blood - a top-secret plan to target the leader of the enemy country, kick off the revival of the stars, and put a final piece on the wise king's chessboard - was born on both sides of this glass.