Chapter 731: The Big Shots in Their Youth

Chapter 731: The Giants in Their Youth

P.S.: (Philias is the surname of the Mad Pope's lineage. The Mr. Philias that Neo first encountered was a descendant of the Mad Pope, which is why in the memory fragments, the Mad Pope's classmates and roommates at the time also address him as Philias.)

...

The Church of the God of Light had perished over a thousand years ago, the death knell sounded by that singular, desperate roar of the last Mad Pope as he stood atop the Tower of Light.

Yet what this spiritual imprint recorded was the Mad Pope's student days, meaning it could only be from an even earlier time.

But as Karen was "watching" this footage from over a millennium ago, the figure within the image actually took the initiative to interact with him, the "spectator."

Karen’s first reaction was to wonder if a student from the neighboring dorm happened to be standing exactly where he was at that very moment, and if Ukonja was merely speaking to that student of "the past."

Yet, Ukonja’s gaze was unmistakably fixed upon him, their eyes locked in a direct confrontation.

No matter how one looked at it, this did not seem like a coincidence; after all, how could there be such a perfect alignment where he simply synchronized with some fellow from over a thousand years ago who happened to be dropping by a dorm room?

Verifying it, in truth, was simple enough.

It was like a person walking down a street who hears a faint call, turns around, and points at their own face.

Karen asked, "Are you speaking to me?"

Ukonja smiled, countering with a question of his own: "Nonsense, who else would it be?"

It was no coincidence.

He saw him; he truly saw him!

After all, no matter what, it was impossible for that dorm-hopping student from over a thousand years ago to have synchronized so perfectly as to point a finger at himself and ask such a foolish question.

So, what was he doing?

On an afternoon over a thousand years in the past, inside a dormitory, had he suddenly, on a whim, decided to strike up a conversation with someone who would walk into this very room a millennium later?

Even if I know you will become a Temple Elder in the future, it should still be impossible to possess such terrifying power, shouldn't it?

After experiencing the cavern incident, Karen had vaguely guessed that the Eternal God's pursuit of the forbidden arts of time had not been an absolute failure, contrary to what was recorded in divine history. He had also dimly perceived that perhaps even the previous God of Order had dabbled in this forbidden power.

The Ranedal in his own possession was not a lone traveler on this path of forbidden pursuits. Though it was a god, there were chief deities far more grand and powerful than it had been in its prime who had walked the very same path, perhaps even ahead of it.

But that was a pursuit belonging to gods; how could you possibly possess it?

Gradually, a possibility dawned on Karen—no, it was the only explanation that could account for this "interaction."

Ukonja, that Temple Elder from over a thousand years ago... was not dead.

Only if he were still alive could the spiritual imprint left here maintain a certain resonance and vitality with the true body, thereby generating an interaction that broke free from the recorded images of past memories.

Very well, though this was equally shocking and perplexing. The lifespan of a Temple Elder was around four hundred years, rarely exceeding five hundred; according to doctrine, this was the blessing they received for serving the great God of Order.

But this man had lived for over a thousand years?

Living from the era when the Church of the God of Light perished all the way to the present day?

Yet, at the very least, this explanation was much easier to accept than the notion that Ukonja had mastered the forbidden laws of time.

So, was he currently existing within a spiritual imprint environment dominated by Ukonja?

And were all the people and things around him conjured from Ukonja’s own memories and perceptions?

"Hey, say something. What's the matter? Now that you've actually made it here, you've turned shy instead?" A cynical, roguish smile permanently hovered at the corner of Ukonja’s mouth.

At that moment, the Mad Pope spoke up: "Since he's here, let him be. After all, we're all classmates."

"Sigh," Ukonja said with a trace of helplessness. "Philias, are all you Light believers such bleeding hearts?"

The Mad Pope replied, "When resources are abundant, sharing itself can bring a person joy."

Ukonja shrugged and said, "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that multi-colored turkey? It’s an extremely precious delicacy, something we ought to cherish. Just now, when Decalost was slaughtering it, the bird's cries made me feel as though I were hearing a classmate weep over a lost graduation thesis."

From inside the washroom, Decalost poked his head out and said, "This one isn't a graduation thesis; it’s a professor’s academic paper, likely intended for a title promotion review."

Hearing this, Ukonja immediately said, "Which professor? Is it a female professor? I feel her wounded soul might require comfort right about now; it’s a perfect opportunity for me to make my move."

"Professor Malena. The turkey had a tag around its neck with her name on it. It took me quite a while to crack the seal. Do you know she actually added a self-destruct restriction to the tag? She actually wanted to blow up a turkey thief all for the sake of a bird. Utterly devoid of professional ethics!"

"Oh, she’s in her sixties, isn't she?" Ukonja frowned. "Thirty, I am well satisfied with; forty carries a certain flavor; fifty, if well-maintained, still holds a refined charm. Sixty... sigh, what a pity, it's far beyond my palate."

This Temple Elder, who would later be revered by tens of thousands, truly possessed a shockingly low moral baseline in his youth.

However, since there was a high probability that he was still alive, the achievements he had attained must be far greater than those of the other Temple Elders.

Decalost said, "Which is why we need to finish it off quickly, aiming to devour it in a single sitting. Don't tell me you want to find a freezer to store it in and savor it over a second meal?

So I say, I’m almost done processing things on my end, you guys better get moving too. Destroy the evidence before the security department starts a massive search!"

Ukonja clapped his hands and said, "Fine, fine, fine, let's get to work. I’m looking forward to its effects; usually, eating a graduation thesis or an academic paper yields enhancing effects in *that* particular department."

With that, Ukonja bent down and pulled a box from beneath the desk containing grilling tools and fire-attribute crystals. He began assembling the barbecue grill with immense familiarity; evidently, this dormitory had done this sort of thing more than once or twice.

"I’ll go to the cafeteria to procure some side dishes," the Mad Pope said with a smile.

Decalost remarked, "Oh, Philias, hurry up. Your usual routine of offering free healing and massages to the cafeteria uncles and aunties needs to pay off right about now."

The Mad Pope patted his wallet. "I'm bringing vouchers, because my treatments never achieved true success."

"No success?"

"Yes, their habit of trembling hands while dishing out food was never cured."

"Hahahahaha!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Everyone in the dormitory burst into laughter.

Budalas pointed at Karen and said, "Hey, come with me to the public washroom to wash the dishes."

Every dormitory had its own private washroom, but there was also a large public washroom on each floor. Since the one in their room was currently being used to slaughter a turkey, they could only go outside.

"Oh, alright."

Karen lifted a basket filled with tableware, subconsciously glancing at Ukonja, who was busy working beside him.

If he were to leave this dormitory, would this "image" disappear?

Or rather, once he left Ukonja’s field of vision, would he break free from this "image"?

"Let's go."

Budalas also lifted a basket and walked out, with Karen following close behind.

Stepping out of the dormitory, Karen was surprised to find that Budalas was still ahead of him, the surrounding scenery had not vanished, and the dormitory building before his eyes was not abandoned. In other words, he had not yet returned to reality.

Was it because Ukonja’s spiritual power was too formidable, capable of maintaining such a vast domain? Or was it due to some other special reason, such as that so-called leak?

But at the very least, Karen had happily unlocked an achievement: washing dishes alongside the High Priest of the Church of Order.

Furthermore, this High Priest was universally acknowledged in the history of the Church of Order as the most influential and capable one, whose political achievements continued to deeply affect the present day, over a thousand years later.

"Today is a day worth celebrating. Help me wash a few more cups; I intend to toast the warriors of the Church of Rest from afar, honoring their courage to resist the Light."

"Alright."

Karen lowered his head to work. He had already noticed that when the water from the tap rushed over his fingers, he did not perceive much coldness, and the tactile sensation was somewhat blurred.

Karen immediately realized that this must be his own instinct resisting this state of being influenced by the spiritual imprint.

His spiritual will, tempered by the pangs of hunger, had grown even stronger now.

Karen cleared his mind and began to actively suppress and lower this instinct of his, feeling very much as if he were forcing himself to bend down and pretend to be short just to qualify for a seat at the table.

With this adjustment, the "compatibility" rose once more, and the water flowing from the faucet suddenly felt distinctly chilly.

Yet, this also presented a problem: in the process of creating and maintaining this "image," he was now putting in effort of his own.

Originally, he had been a mere "spectator," but now he had not only stepped inside to interact, but had also actively taken on part of the responsibility for keeping things running.

So, what kind of bizarre state was this exactly?

It was not transmigration, nor was it time reversal, but could an image preserved by a spiritual imprint still remain so open-ended?

Boudalasse continued, "The school journal editors have already requested a piece from me. I intend to write a series of articles to build momentum for Light's invasion of East, praising East's bravery and expressing admiration, while supporting the Church of East to fight to the very last man in their war against Light."

Seeing that Karen remained silent, entirely focused on playing with the "faucet";

Boudalasse frowned slightly and asked, "Are you listening to me?"

"Ah, yes."

"Are you not interested in politics?"

"No, I am interested."

"We should be interested, at least for now." Boudalasse sized Karen up, speaking with great earnestness, "Because only by truly winning this confrontation against the Church of Light can the Light of Order truly blossom across the entire ecclesiastical circle."

One could easily perceive that Boudalasse possessed boundless energy, possessing a passion for expressing his political views and imposing his insights and theories on everyone around him.

"Yes, you are right. Only when the Church of Light perishes can the *Regulations of Order* become the rule for the entire ecclesiastical circle."

This response from Karen clearly aligned with the ideal blueprint in Boudalasse's mind, prompting him to raise his plate and wave it about, saying, "Whatever customs, styles, or traditions other churches have, they can all step aside. From now on, the sole principle operating in this world shall be the *Regulations of Order*.

It can be very thick, or it can be very thin; we don't even need to care about what is actually written inside, or which specific volume, chapter, or clause it is. With it in our left hand and our right hand clenched into a fist, we can entirely dictate its contents verbally as needed, haha."

"That will lead to problems," Karen remarked. "The unscrupulous use of power will inevitably backfire upon oneself in the end."

Boudalasse frowned and said, "You are truly pedantic."

"It is not pedantic. The Church of Light is a mirror to us now; we defeat Light not to become the next Light.

The might of absolute power does not conflict with theories and rules. Sometimes, self-restraint is not a derogatory term. It is like a dam; its existence indeed blocks the roaring torrents, but its regulation can mitigate the impact of floods and droughts."

Boudalasse looked at Karen and said, "Everything you speak of is too far in the future. Right now, the Church of Light still stands tall before us."

"Only the side that sees the future clearly in advance can win the present."

Boudalasse fell silent and resumed washing his plates.

When both their plates were clean and they prepared to head back, Boudalasse lifted the basket and said, "I admit, what you said makes a lot of sense. Though it is merely theoretical, it can indeed guide the direction of reality."

"I was just speaking idly."

"Are you a friend of Philias?"

"Me?"

"Are you not? I thought you were invited here by Philias. He loves making friends—no, rather, he can become good friends with anyone. That is a trait unique to followers of Light."

"Philias is a good person."

"Yes, a good person. If he does not return to the Church of Light, I believe he and I would become lifelong friends. Regrettably..." Boudalasse lightly tugged at the divine robe Karen was wearing with one hand, "...regrettably, the colors of the divine robes we wear are different after all."

Thanks to his desire to remain as low-key as possible while attending classes at the school, Karen wore an ordinary divine robe of Order.

If he were wearing a minister-level divine robe right now, how would the "plot" unfold?

Would Ukonga ask, "Hey, boss, are you here to inspect the dorm and grab a free meal while you're at it?"

Upon returning to the dormitory, Ukonga had already set up the barbecue grill, and the fire-attribute crystals were already lit, upon which a plucked turkey hung skewered, "eyes closed," spinning and leaping.

While brushing on spices, Ukonga remarked, "This five-colored turkey doesn't seem like anything special once its feathers are plucked. So its only defining feature is the color of its feathers?"

Dicalost spoke up, "Feathers of different colors carry powers of different attributes."

As he spoke, Dicalost raised his hands, which were covered in numerous bloody cuts, looking as though he had just grabbed a handful of blades with both bare hands.

"The fire and lightning-attribute chicken feathers are a nightmare to handle. I hope its meat quality can make up for my efforts."

Ukonga shook his head and said, "I think you might be disappointed. The meat seems a bit dry, so turkeys will never become mainstream on the dining table, no matter how many colors of feathers they grow.

Dicalost, if you have time tomorrow, go steal a Cindy back. Its meat is quite good, and its feathers are even more beautiful and holy, perfect for making duvets and mattresses.

Last time I went on a date with a mattress set made from Cindy feathers, that elasticity saved my waist a lot of strain."

Cindy was the collective name for the sacrificial bird species of the Church of Order.

Hearing these words, Karen could only reflect on how miserable the Cindys of every era seemed to have it.

Boudalasse said, "If we steal another Cindy, the Moral Education Department will have to look for turkeys to handle the opening ceremony next school anniversary. They will go mad."

"I'm back." The Mad Pope walked into the dormitory carrying two large bags of side dishes.

"Did they accept your vouchers?" Ukonga asked.

"No."

"Then they still have a bit of a conscience."

"But I insisted on leaving the vouchers behind."

"Oh, Philias, you really are an idiot!" Ukonga looked at him with complete lack of understanding. "You are so kind-hearted, why don't you go back, become the Pope of Light, and then disband the Church of Light? That way, the world would be at peace."

Boudalasse teased, "If that really happened, Philias would have to hide his identity when he comes to take classes with us. He'd have to watch out for being arrested as a Light... a remnant of Light, hahaha."

Everyone burst into laughter again.

Karen offered a polite smile in accompaniment.

The four roommates present thought of it merely as a joke, but the reality a millennium later was that hunting down and purging the remnants of Light was a default red line for the Church of Order.

"Is it cooked?" Dicalost asked. "I'm hungry."

Ukonga shook his head. "Don't rush, don't rush. This is just like flirting; if you don't bring the heat to the right point, you won't get the true delicacy."

Karen found a chair and sat down.

Dicalost pointed at Karen and asked, "Hey, can you tell me how you maintain yourself?"

"Oh, heavens, Dicalost, what do you mean by that?" Ukonga cried out with great exaggeration. "No wonder you can't find a girlfriend no matter how much I help you. It turns out your track was headed in a completely different direction from mine right from the start."

The Mad Pope spoke up, "Ukonga, you are being a bit uncalled for."

"This classmate himself doesn't even mind, so what are you saying, Philias? Right, classmate, what was your name again?"

"Karen. Karen Silva."

Ukonga might still be alive, so Karen did not dare reveal the surname "Inmeles" to him.

"Never heard of that family name."

"My family comes from a lineage of Inquisitors."

"A lineage of Inquisitors?" Ukonga licked his lips. "Sounds rather high-end, haha."

Boudalasse cautioned, "Ukonga, you are indeed out of line. As a believer of Order, have you forgotten the most fundamental tenets?"

"Damn it!" Ukonga raised his hands. "I surrender, I surrender. What sin did I commit to have you two guys giving me moral and ideological lectures every single day? I say, since you love educating people so much, why don't one of you become the Pope and the other become the Grand Priest in the future? If you don't make it, don't blame me for looking down on you!"

Dicarlost stroked his chin, where the faint outline of a full beard was already beginning to form, and asked Karen, "I just want to discuss how to maintain my skin. I feel like I'm getting coarser and rougher lately."

"What you need is the nourishment of love," Ukonga remarked.

Dicarlost countered, "But the last girl I pursued seemed to have skin even rougher than mine."

"Who told you to chase international students from the Church of Thunder? They draw lightning into their bodies every other day, which stretches their pores wide open. Their body hair is so thick and stiff it looks like a lightning rod."

Dicarlost protested, "That is a wild, healthy kind of beauty!"

Ukonga nodded. "Right, right, right. I once dated a female devotee from the Church of Thunder. She gave me that literal electric feeling when we were doing the deed in bed for the first time. It truly wasn't an artistic exaggeration."

Budalas asked, "Was that the time you returned to the dorm sporting an afro?"

Ukonga replied, "That's because you didn't see my downstairs. Down there, the styling looked exactly like a porcupine."

Dicarlost let out a scoffing laugh. "Why on earth am I discussing love with a breeding stud like you?"

"At least I didn't take a girl I wanted to pursue to a restricted breeding space to steal dragon eggs, soaking her in dragon dung for three days and three nights until she was thoroughly pickled in the scent, like a certain someone."

"That was an accident, a total accident! Besides, we supported each other through it and ultimately made it out safely without being caught."

"Which is exactly why she refused to be your girlfriend—because the moment she looks at you, she is reminded of that swamp of excrement."

Karen reminded them, "It's roasted."

Ukonga looked down. "Mhm, indeed. Ready to carve. Bring your plates over, boys; Daddy is going to feed you."

Dicarlost took out the boiled blood sausage, sliced it, and plated it.

The Mad Pope set out the side dishes;

Budalas began to pour the wine.

Once everything was prepared and everyone raised their glasses, Budalas shouted, "Come, let us first raise a glass to our heroic warriors of Rest!"

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

After drinking, Ukonga teased, "Budalas, you should really thank our Philias for his good temper. Otherwise, he would have drugged your cup and sent you straight to report to the First Knight Order of Order."

The Mad Pope said, "We are all classmates, and friends." After a pause, he continued, "He isn't qualified to enter your First Knight Order of Order yet, so poisoning him now wouldn't be a pity. At least wait until he's qualified to go in the future; poisoning him then and giving him a casual purification along the way would be much more satisfying."

"Hahaha," Budalas laughed. "To be honest, I'm actually quite looking forward to it. I keep hoping your Light will stiffen its spine one day and simply rip off the facade to declare official war on our Order. I really want to know just how powerful our First Knight Order of Order truly is."

The Mad Pope replied, "Your Order could always take the initiative to start the war."

Budalas shook his head. "Are we fools? Time is on our side."

"Tastes good," Dicarlost remarked after taking a bite of the turkey.

"It really is good," Ukonga agreed, changing his stance. "So perhaps Professor Marlena's thesis topic is 'On How to Improve Breeds to Make Turkey Meat Taste Better'?"

Karen took a bite and found it unexpectedly tender and juicy.

Although he knew what he was eating right now was an illusion, when the sensation was completely realistic, the boundary between truth and falsehood became blurred.

"By the way, what class do we have this afternoon?" Ukonga asked.

"Are you thinking of skipping class again? In my view, you simply don't want to graduate," Budalas said.

"I don't care. I'm not cut out for studying anyway, nor do I plan to enter politics. My only virtue is a tiny bit of talent in cultivation. Heheh, that's also the reason why my dad didn't choke me to death in the first place."

Dicarlost said, "Your father is indeed benevolent. If it were me, I would find a way to reverse time and space, then shoot the shot that created you onto the wall."

"Hehehe," Ukonga let out a laugh. "That's the first time I've heard an insult that incorporates the forbidden arts."

Karen asked curiously, "What happened?"

The Mad Pope answered, "Ukonga's family originally recommended him, and he ultimately passed the screening, earning the eligibility to inherit the legacy of the 'Lord' of your Church of Order, but he refused it in the end."

Budalas remarked, "It's a good thing Ukonga didn't become a Godson. Otherwise, we would have to kneel down while accompanying him at dinner right now."

"Hey, hey, hey, what's so good about being a Godson? A person only gets this one life, and I feel like I'll only live to seventy."

Dicarlost reminded him, "You know no moderation. If you can live to fifty, it will already be quite an achievement."

Karen thought to himself: No, he lived for over a thousand years.

Ukonga said, "Exactly. This life was hard-earned. Why should I become a substitute for someone else, a puppet under someone else's label?"

Budalas asked, "Even if he is the 'Lord'?"

Ukonga countered, "Who was it that taught me that all are equal under Order?"

Budalas said, "But the existence of a Godson serves a great purpose for the Church."

Ukonga: "Then I will strive to make my future existence serve an even greater purpose than a Godson's."

Dicarlost teased, "Are you referring to the aspect of sowing seeds?"

"Why, is that not allowed? The girls I'm dating now will definitely regret using contraception during our time together in the future."

Budalas buried his face in his hands helplessly. "Ukonga, you chose the wrong major. You should have gone to the Academy of Magical Beast Breeding to solve the breeding difficulties of powerful magical beasts."

"That's not the same thing."

"No, I just think your capability is so powerful that you could break through reproductive barriers."

"Thank you for the compliment. I shall interpret that as your worship of my prowess in that area."

"You happy, then fine."

"So, you guys still haven't answered me. What class do we have this afternoon? I'm considering whether I need to adjust my schedule and do some time management."

The Mad Pope said, "Our elective classes are together. This afternoon is 'Sacred Artifact Perception Class', and the people from the Restricted Space should have already arrived."

Ukonga said, "What's the fun in looking at sacred artifacts in class? They treasure them so much that they cover them entirely with a casing, and we can only look from afar. It's utterly boring. It would be great if we could wander around inside the Restricted Space. Maybe we could even chat with the beautiful artifact spirit ladies. Although they are soul-like existences, powerful artifact spirits can make their bodies nearly physical. I want to experience that wonderful feeling. Dicarlost, what do you think?"

"I'm fine with it; I dare to go anywhere," Dicarlost said, thumping his chest. "I'm truly not afraid. But the premise is, how do we get in?"

Budalas warned, "Are you two insane?"

It wasn't that he couldn't take a joke, but rather that he knew all too well the law-defying capabilities of these two roommates.

Past experience told him that, more often than not, startling actions always began as jokes in this dormitory.

Ukonga said, "Actually, entering the Restricted Space is simple. We can start with the people from the Restricted Space. Are there any female teachers or female priestesses in this open class? I can sacrifice my charms to gather some intel."

Dicarlost said, "Getting in is too difficult. That thing is guarding it, and its eyes are constantly scanning the Restricted Space. Who told your God of Order to have fallen so many gods back then? The collection of sacred artifacts in the Restricted Space is far greater than that of other churches. However, I think we can change our approach. We don't have to go in, but we can invite the sacred artifacts out to play."

Ukonga said, "So as I said, my plan is that I'll be responsible for obtaining the blueprints of the summoning altar. Budalas and Philias, you two will be responsible for setting up the altar. This shouldn't be difficult for you guys, right, honor students?"

Budalas shook his head and said, "I won't do such a thing."

"Then don't eat this turkey meat!" Ukonga said crossly.

The Mad Pope spoke up, "If we have the blueprints, setting up the altar isn't difficult. But the problem is, no matter how it's arranged, you need a reception point inside the Restricted Space. Dicarlost, do you have a way to slip inside first?"

Dicarlost said with a smile, "Unless you give me a holy angel and a fallen angel to command, I really can't think of any other way to enter the Restricted Space of their Church of Order."

Karen reached out and touched his ring.

Ukonga sighed with emotion, "Then there's nothing to play with. Forget it, I'll just skip class and head to the grove."

Dicarlost let out a sigh, "It seems the Restricted Space is still too high-end for me right now; it doesn't suit the current me. But I'll definitely have to try entering it in the future to see the trophy room of your God of Order from back then."

The Mad Pope ate a piece of blood sausage. "Let's just go to class. Attend class properly and acquire knowledge."

Budalas laughed and said, "Look, look, it's not that I'm not loyal enough to help you guys, there really is nothing that can be done, haha."

Karen was reflecting as he chewed on the turkey meat: could this memory imprint imagery continue to extend outward?

Even if it was not reality, if it was fabricated, how far could it actually expand?

Originally, Karen thought that he might even try to follow them to audit a class after dinner, but they were actually plotting to go to the forbidden space to stir something up?

So, should he give it a try?

To see if it really could extend outward? And to incidentally confirm whether what extended was the "memory thought" of Ukonga, the temple elder who was still alive, or if it was... the collective memory thought of the people in this dormitory.

Because judging from their interactions during this period, every single one of them was so vivid, seemingly not just supporting characters molded from impressions within Ukonga's memory thought?

Karen spoke up:

"Um, if you guys really want to go to the forbidden space, I have a way."

For a moment, the other four fell completely silent, four pairs of eyes landing upon Karen.

Karen added, "If a reception point is needed, I can go place it; as for the rest, it will have to depend on you all."

Ukonga suddenly stood up, walked over to Karen, and stared at Karen very seriously at close range.

At this instant, he gave Karen the feeling that he was about to step right out of the "imagery."

But soon, Ukonga threw an arm around Karen: "Classmate, you're not joking, are you?"

"I'm not."

"Dad, you're really not joking?"

"I'm not."

Ukonga punched Karen in the chest and laughed, "Your son believes you!"

Dicalost whistled, "Wow, I sense my soul of adventure is burning!"

The Mad Pope spoke up, "We can start preparing the materials."

Budalas frowned and said to Karen very seriously, "I will tentatively assume for now that you truly have this capability, but do you understand the consequences of doing this? Do you know just how severe the nature of this matter is!"

Karen was momentarily at a loss for how to reply.

Budalas immediately flashed a smile, "Don't let it happen again!"

This was a dormitory where one could choose roommates; that they lived together was, to some extent, an expression of shared interests and tastes. Budalas's earlier seriousness was probably just a facade; deep in his bones, he also wanted everyone to play together, to enjoy the pleasure of order being temporarily shattered.

They would all be true luminaries in the future, having influenced the shifting of eras; most importantly, they were still very young right now.

However, ordinary people truly found it hard to imagine how high-end the playfulness of a group of young tycoons could be when they gathered together.

Ukonga shouted, "Come, come, come, raise your glasses again! Regardless of whether it succeeds in the end, while this excitement hasn't been doused by reality, while we are still in the mood and haven't gone soft, let's have another drink first!"

Everyone raised their glasses once more, "Cheers!"

As the liquor went down his throat, Dicalost next to him intentionally bumped into Karen, causing Karen to choke.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

"Hahahahaha!"

Karen took a tissue from the Mad Pope, laughing even as he coughed;

At this very instant,

An illusion suddenly arose in Karen's heart, which was that they all seemed to... still be alive.