Chapter 54

"I'm telling you, if you're going to fight, then fight properly. Stop using me as bait all the time."

Vladimir looked at the ground above him with a rather helpless expression.

"It's one thing for me to be used as bait among our own people, but to capture me and then reuse me is going too far, isn't it?"

On the ground, a person covered in bottles and jars was fiddling with a small jar in his hand using a magnifying glass. Hearing this, he looked up and glanced at Vladimir, who was hanging in mid-air.

"You should be grateful you weren't shot on the spot. If we hadn't kept quiet, you would have been put on a plane and sent to Russia long ago."

Vladimir glanced at the man on the ground with disdain and shook him defiantly.

"If I weren't hanging here, I could take on ten of you with one hand!"

Defoe, hanging higher up, was also shaken, and said weakly, "Nabokov, stop shaking me, or I'm going to throw up..."

The situation for Vladimir and Defoe is rather delicate.

Let me explain in more detail. This place is about five stories high now. Defoe is suspended at the very top by a steel cable, and there is an iron frame protruding far from the building.

The interface appears to be soldered on, so there's no need to worry about it accidentally falling off.

As for Vladimir... he was suspended two stories above Defoe and three stories above the ground by a rope tied to Defoe's leg.

This design may seem particularly strange at first glance, but it becomes less so once you consider another factor—Defoe's supernatural ability can only affect targets within a half-meter radius around himself.

In other words, if Defoe dared to instantly use "Drifting" to escape, Vladimir, who was six or seven meters away from Defoe, would fall from the height of a three-story building on the spot.

Vladimir, whose equipment has already been stripped, will definitely be smashed into a pulp on the spot, the kind that exposes his true colors.

As for letting Defoe gather his strength... that guy has only practiced how to activate it faster, never how to conceal the noise when activating his ability, until "Drifting Chronicles" extends enough to reach Vladimir...

Even if those two below squeezed out a little time while chatting and eating sunflower seeds, they could still knock Defoe unconscious with one hand.

Thinking of this, Vladimir, whose equipment had been stripped off and who had been put into a straitjacket for mental patients, gritted his teeth and looked at the two people below.

Vladimir knew one of the two men, but not the other. However, he estimated that he should know both Romain Rolland and Christie.

The person he knew could also clearly explain why Defoe suddenly and silently fainted right after being captured by "Monument Valley".

Vladimir roared silently in his heart.

One "Monument Valley" Balzac wasn't enough, now even "Mad Rider" Robert Lewis has come? Just how terrifying is the UN in the eyes of the ASA?!

The enraged Vladimir shook again, causing Defoe above to grow even paler.

Below, Lewis fanned himself with his hat, looking at Vladimir, who was gritting his teeth, and above, Defoe, who was pale-faced.

"To injure a thousand friends is to injure yourself by eight hundred."

Vladimir, who was also a little dizzy, roared, "Shut up, you stutterer!"

As he spoke, Vladimir began to jump violently, his whole body swaying up and down in mid-air.

"You bunch of bastards! I'm reporting you for prisoner abuse! Severe abuse! Psychological abuse!"

Lewis watched Vladimir begin to draw circles in mid-air and marveled at the sight.

He just felt that Vladimir was incredibly energetic.

He was so excited that he was almost frightened.

"Oh dear...you're so arrogant, don't you really know what the consequences might be?"

As he spoke, Lewis made a face at Vladimir.

"Imagine what would happen to you if you fell into Russia's hands, wouldn't you be afraid?"

Vladimir showed disdain for Lewis below.

"What could possibly happen? If I don't agree to have my powers removed, I'll be subjected to torture; if I agree, I'll be executed on the spot. What else could happen?"

As he spoke, Vladimir stopped jumping around and let Defoe, who was about to faint, go.

Facing Lewis's strange gaze, Vladimir proudly raised his head: "I'll just agree to have my powers removed, and that way we can solve the problem with just one execution!"

Lewis was stunned: "You, you see, you see very clearly, very thoroughly."

Even the person sitting in the back looked up at the proud Vladimir with a distorted expression: "Why are you saying this with such a proud look on your face!"

Vladimir gave the two men below a disdainful look: "This is a state of mind, learn from it."

Seeing Vladimir's face clearly saying "You'd better thank me soon," Lewis chose to turn his head away.

"Fabre, let's just ignore him."

Fabre, holding a pile of bottles and jars, nodded sadly.

I always thought Vladimir was a psychopath based on the information I had. But now it seems he definitely can't be called a psychopath.

This is practically a self-propelled source of pollution!

Fabre and Lewis began to look up at the sky in unison, ignoring Vladimir.

Vladimir rolled his eyes at the two of them and then quieted down.

In an instant, the atmosphere became very peaceful.

—Actually, things would be peaceful as long as Vladimir doesn't cause trouble.

After all, ASA only wants to fish, not to torture prisoners.

Bored, Lewis casually looked up and saw Vladimir gazing at the sky, his lips moving slightly as he muttered something.

Looking at this self-propelled source of pollution, Lewis still couldn't suppress his strong curiosity.

What are you doing?

Seemingly having heard Lewis's voice, Vladimir looked down (or rather, looked up, given her current condition) and glanced at Lewis briefly.

Vladimir's expression was quite normal at this moment, so normal that Lewis suspected he was also a patient with dissociative identity disorder.

The Vladimir of today bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Vladimir who was terrifyingly active just minutes before.

Just as Lewis was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, Vladimir spoke up nonchalantly.

"I'm counting down."

Lewis was taken aback, and the person behind him also looked at Vladimir: "What are you counting down to?"

Vladimir glanced at the two of them again, then looked back at the distant sky.

Looking at the edge of the sky and feeling the gentle breeze on his face, Vladimir squinted slightly, as if he were imagining something.

"It's just a matter of counting how long I'll be staying here."