Newly Town, Research Institute Number One. Underground Laboratory.
Tumo stood at the entrance, his palms drenched in sweat.
Yesterday, when the list of participants for the Strong Foundation Plan was posted, he had rushed over to see it at the first opportunity.
His own name, "Tumo," was right there on the list.
He knew why he had been selected—just like Barton, their accumulated merit points had always been among the highest.
Their selection was the most direct manifestation of Lord Velin's promise that hard work pays off.
No one in the territory objected. There was only envy.
But Tumo still felt uneasy.
'I'm just a farmer, or at best a business owner now. Can I really endure a bloodline ritual that only Knights and old veterans can handle?'
CREAK. The sound of the laboratory door opening interrupted his anxious thoughts.
Barton walked out, his face ruddy and his steps steady.
