There's nothing to write about the test drive experience, at least in Sato's opinion, just write a few crosses and hand them in, and no one will look at them in detail anyway.

But the little guy at the table, who had changed back into his clothes, had already written several pages, and even thought of starting again. Sato yawned and continued to look at the internal documents displayed on the tablet in his hand.

This document is only accessible to researchers at the two-color gears. The name of the file is very simple, "Armor at 100% Consciousness Synchronization Rate"

The mere 10,000 words of experimental data has led many researchers who went to bed early to get out of bed and read the document word for word, despite the risk of sudden death.

And the initiator is meditating here because of a small test drive experience, but then again, it seems that a test drive experience report with 100% consciousness synchronization rate will have a lot of research value.

That's why Sato didn't stop Fran from writing.

There was a knock on the door, and before Sato could get up and open the door, Moxiso walked in with Morgan pushing the door.

Looking at the thick several pages of the test drive experience report in front of Fran, Moxiso nodded, "Don't be in a hurry, you can take it back and write it." Be as detailed as possible. ”

Fran nodded.

Morgan patted Furlong on the shoulder, "Let's go, you're going to be late for school." ”

"Late?"

There was a hint of doubt in Fran's calm voice. It was only afternoon when he came with Morgan, and he always thought it was just midnight.

"It's almost seven o'clock now, don't you have a cell phone?"

Fran shook his head lightly and didn't say anything. How could a street child who couldn't even afford to pay his tuition fees have something so valuable?

Moxiso was silent for a moment, then a holographic screen lit up from his arm, and with a few clicks, a small and cute robot walked in with a box open the door.

Reach for the box and hand it to Fran.

"Battlefield multi-function watch - Spider's Nest. Equipped with a basic holographic screen. Kind of a small gift. "Moxiso said in a calm tone," as the saying goes, eating people with a short mouth and being soft with a soft hand. I hope that when you go back, you will learn how to fight and stop insulting my armor with your ridiculous skills, okay? ”

Fran bit his lower lip and nodded, "Okay, I remember." ”

Morgan patted Moxiso on the shoulder, "Don't have the idea of turning around and selling it, this thing is forbidden to be sold privately." ”

"Hmm." Fran took the spider's nest, but was not in a hurry to open it.

Just bowed earnestly to Moxiso, "I'm sorry, Mr. Moxiso. ”

Moxiso interrupted Fran impatiently, and just waved his hand, "There's nothing to apologize for, I just don't want you to be like a cow chewing a peony, wearing the most advanced armor in the entire empire and going on a aesthetically unapologetic rampage." ”

Fran nodded and replied softly, "Hmm." ”

"Let's go, little ghost, it's time for class." Morgan helped clean up the scattered test drive report on the table, and then returned with Fran the same way he came.

It's not the same as when you came.

In the brightly lit precision gear hall, the cacophony gradually subsided as Fran walked forward step by step. The white-robed researchers, who were equipped with two-color gears or monochrome gears, all looked at Fran with a feverish, longing, greedy look.

Fran bowed his head, he could be at ease in a strange, disdainful, disgusted gaze, but for the first time, he felt the sensation of being watched closely, and it made him a little uneasy.

Moxiso, who was following behind the two, snorted coldly, "Set up the project yourself, hand it over to me for approval, and after the approval is passed, you will find this rabbit cub to cooperate." ”

With a sparse echo of echoes, Fran finally walked out of the raised passageway, looking at the rising sun gradually appearing in the sky, as if in a different world.

It's the car again, and the two people in the car are still sitting opposite each other.

Fran lowered his head and looked at the back-up reports of his test drive on the table, "I saw the feasters. ”

With a short sentence, Morgan, who was holding a cigarette in his hand, slowly sat up straight, and he shook the ash of the cigarette, as if he had spoken intentionally or unintentionally.

"What do you mean by telling me this?"

Fran raised his head and looked at Morgan's old face with demonic purple eyes, "You are the director of the Inquisition Bureau, and the party who feasts is an evil god, and reporting the matter of the evil god is what every citizen of the empire should do." ”

"That's all?"

A teenager who suddenly gains power that doesn't belong to him, trying to subvert the assumptions of something? Morgan shook his head, he had seen a lot of this kind of person in his career as an executive. What should every citizen of the empire do? Don't laugh at it, kid, but if you want to know something, if you want to get something, just say it, and when the time comes to put you on the stake and pour fuel, it will naturally be as you wish.

The Inquisition has always been generous to the dead.

Hands not approaching the fire hammer at his waist, a gifted test driver? A genius who resonates with 100% consciousness? But out of armor, he is just a malnourished and skinny little ghost, with Morgan's fighting skills honed between life and death, as long as that demon has any thoughts that he shouldn't have, within three seconds, Morgan can break his limbs like breaking a branch! Then dragged into the torture room, so that he could be served.

As for the driver of the feast?

It's just a test drive, and when the precision gear breaks through the technical limitations and reduces the synchronous load of consciousness, it will naturally be a lot of young talents competing for the feast.

A demon is just an evil spirit, how could His Majesty allow such a dangerous person to control this unusual power?

The boy's somewhat cramped voice sounded, harmless and absurd.

"There is a reward for reporting evil gods. Like me, a direct report about the evil god itself will start at 10,000 and there will be no cap on the gold coins. ”

Morgan took a hard drag on his cigarette, "So, you're reporting the evil god to me?" ”

Fran nodded and spoke calmly, "Yes." In the resonance phase of my armor consciousness, I will see repetitive visions of the feasters. Including this time. ”

"yes, I see." Morgan snuffed out his cigarette, "The bonus will be given out depending on the situation, but it won't be too much." After all, it's just your fantasy, and it doesn't threaten the bubble defenses. ”

Fran nodded, not asking what exactly the so-called bubble defense was.

"Do you want to include these things in the test drive experience report?"

Morgan shrugged, "Whatever you want." ”

The car shook, then slowly stopped, the privacy film gradually fell, and the warm sunlight outside the car shone into the car, dyeing Morgan's long gray hair with strands of gold.

Fran softly retired, put the papers in order, and was about to get out of the car, when Morgan spoke, "Fran. ”

"Huh?" Fran stopped getting up and sat down across from Morgan, "Is there anything else Mr. Morgan does?" ”

"Valuable things are not discarded, you know?" Morgan looked at the demonic man with a calm face and a polite demeanor on the other side, "You need to prove your irreplaceability so that you can live an easier life." ”

Furlong nodded, "Thank you, Mr. Morgan." ”

Morgan smiled and shook his head, "Let's go to class, I'm going to be late." ”

As the doors closed, the limousine started again, and looking at the receding figure outside the window, Morgan smiled, and a crystal slipped from the corner of his eye.

Without leaving a trace, he wiped the corners of his eyes and motioned for the driver to start the car.

Etched with twin swords, the Inquisition Carriage, which symbolizes the fight against the evil gods to the end, shuttles through the streets, and drives in the direction opposite to the setting sun under the horrified and fearful gaze of the people.