"Cough cough."
Almy coughed continuously. He could not breathe because the air had been drained by the flames.
His vision was blurry, sometimes illusory and sometimes real. If not for the defense of identity, having to carry an extremely thin mana mask to hide his identity, he would have died by now from drug shock.
The reason was because he changed everything—height, body structure—with another shell, and that shell was like a small shield that helped him block the high. This was great.
But not very great when still trapped here.
Almy stared blankly at the person before him. He understood one thing: how serious the lack of oxygen to the brain was. To inhale more oxygen, Almy had to dispell his mask, appearing with his true face as a journalist to the interviewer for the first time.
Rrip~
He tore off the false face, revealing a face that looked a bit naive, small eyes, brownish gold hair, looking like a scholar.
He spat out from his mouth a wad of newspaper rotted in water. Wine had soaked through that to flow into his gut, but half still remained stuck in the pile of paper.
Ron stared at his face for a few seconds, then smiled and pointed toward the notebook, then pointed at himself. The implication was clear that Almy needed to do something.
"Ugh, cough cough."
But Almy's mind had nothing left to care about that. Sweat poured out continuously on his face. His expression was like someone about to be executed, his brain already dirtied by smoke and dust.
Even so, at the most important moment, heaven will not cut off the path of life. A thud from beneath the room echoed deeply, and then a rare ray of sunlight appeared.
"So you have reached the surface."
Ron leisurely walked to the door, gently and effortlessly pushed it once, and then thousands of dazzling sunbeams pierced through the room. Almy saw that and was overjoyed. His heart felt light. That survival will then vanished, and he fell into sleep.
...
"Take him to rest. He will wake up in a few hours. If he does not wake up, call me and I will come to talk. If he wakes up, call me and I will come to talk."
Ron stepped out of the door. At the door were several golems 1.4m to 1.5m tall. The whole body was full of hard stone muscles. The pupils were red like molten steel balls.
That entity as hard as stone stared at Ron, as if having only one goal which was to target him.
As for Ron, he did not look but took the notebook he stole from that unconscious fool and wrote in it continuously. He leaned against the wall, which was red hot due to the fire spreading out, not minding the temperature at all.
The pen he held was a specially made pen of his own. It had many strange functions unrelated to the pen.
Ron fiddled, played with the pen then wrote hurriedly in the notebook, not caring about being already surrounded by stone golems.
"Ah right, this room is burnt. Please smash it then throw this pile away. Thank you."
Ron finished writing the notes, then closed the notebook, looking at the crowd surrounding him without moving, then sighed. Then his pupils slightly froze, like a soulless person.
Crack.
Ron stabbed the pen into the stone waist of a golem. The pen flashed a brilliant red, and then a horrific explosion occurred.
An explosion where the center of the blast was only one step away from Ron, but he had quickly curled himself in along with the notebook. Simultaneously, dozens of golems rushed in intending to kill him.
A series of monsters raised their fists toward him, but were destroyed by the explosion.
Within a few seconds, an area with a radius of 4 meters was completely swept clean, leaving only some soil and stone debris along with a thick layer of smoke.
At near the center of the explosion, a black sphere big enough for a person to curl inside rolled on the ground.
That black sphere suddenly bloomed and turned into a black battle cloak worn on Ron.
"What is this? An uprising of some pebbles?"
Ron turned to walk out of that debris area to go into the room. Immediately dozens of other golems were surrounding the door, but they did not act but only intended to block him.
'A rule? Likely if not attacking then nothing happens. According to the method of counterattacking then receiving accordingly. And I was not attacked despite destroying many golems. Likely this is not very easy to determine, because even though just stabbing the pen into the first one, many others rushed in.
It consists of two things to care about. First is not touching golems and escaping easily. Golems are numerous but have their own rules.
Second is the fact that it can just crush this place like that, like a tank crushing a rabbit, but acting like a soulless puppet. If wanting to kill me, they should have broken the elevator cables when it pulled the room up or at least lunged down using weight to destroy the room.
Meaning either they are not commanded by anyone, or the commander is not here and they are like puppets, or they are playing dumb, or also they do not dare let me die. But I am so weak that two of their punches and my head is separated from my neck, so temporarily ignore that.
It is also possible, everything is fake. But nearly 1 minute since the explosion and I just used the tool to cause it yet allies haven't come...'
Ron thought back and forth, then remembered there was still a life he still needed to save, so calculated what to do.
Suddenly, he realized one thing: what if Almy was the cause leading to this?
Well, there is a possibility, extremely low. There are many possibilities but hiding mana in a tunnel that blocks mana like that is like hiding a fire in a dark night.
Except for Almy's mask, which had a logical reason, and the business card, which Almy did not even dare turn on a magic scan on himself to find.
Fine, fine, leave it there. Once through this matter, think what you think. Just save a person first.