The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

"It's not appropriate to be too contentious."

Atlant's gaze subtly shifted, immediately grasping Colin's meaning—

He didn't want to get involved in this matter!

The reason wasn't hard to guess.

The eighty thousand lives were merely the result of inflated numbers, meant to draw attention from the rear. The battle report likely included numerous goblins and lesser demons, perhaps even incomplete souls of undead cannon fodder.

As the Military Minister, Colin naturally couldn't claim the eighty thousand soldiers weren't important. But to demons who truly understand the frontline, it's merely a fraction on a larger war report, not worth highlighting.

As for the deployment of the Magic Crystal Cannon, personally driven by Colin, it wouldn't change due to this hearing. Even the route dispute between the Logistics Department and the War Department was only the tip of the iceberg. The real players had been the Demon King of Thunder County and his political adversaries in Demon City from the start.

No matter which side ultimately laughs last, it's only the distribution of the pie that will be affected, not the overall situation.

Atlant reclined slowly into his chair, secretly sighing.

He certainly understood Colin's stance, after all, Colin was advocating for technological proliferation of the Magic Crystal Cannon, not focusing on the outcome of a specific battle.

For the Cabinet's Military Minister, this matter was only a part of interest, not the core.

He nodded gently, decided not to pursue the topic further, instead shifting to a lighter subject: "Speaking of which, Lord Colin, what is your opinion of that youngster, Luo Yan?"

Colin's lips curled slightly, his tone calm yet tinged with a hint of amusement: "An interesting young man."

He stood up, walked to the window of his office, gazing at the gloomy sky far over Demon City, contemplated for a moment, and slowly said: "He's more decisive than I imagined, and better at seizing opportunities. It's not at all surprising the Padric family chose him. As for his prowess, it might be slightly lacking, but that's actually the least important."

Ordinary people in Hell often overestimate the importance of Extraordinary Power, but the true ruling class knows it's important, yet not of absolute importance.

It's like the exam scores at the Demon King Academy.

Simply put, they are "Transcendents," how could their fate be decided by Extraordinary Power?

At this point, Colin paused briefly, speaking in a half-joking tone.

"Honestly, I even think the Padric family's young lady isn't worthy of him, Vivian might be a better fit. If he were willing to enter the Colin family, their advantages could complement each other. Especially since this young man grew up in the Temple as a human, haha... I'm just joking, don't spread it around, Mr. Padric and I have quite a good relationship."

Atlant, sweating profusely, hastily replied.

"I certainly won't disclose it..."

Colin chuckled, continued speaking.

"I believe, ultimately, I am quite optimistic about him."

The enticing prospect of the Magic Crystal Cannon sketched superficially for the hearing might as well be drawn for those behind the hearing itself.

And honestly, Colin was indeed intrigued by it, to the point where he couldn't help but want to intervene.

Can't you bunch of backstabbing dogs give it a rest? At least first let someone create this thing, how about it?

A Magic Crystal Cannon capable of exhilarating the battlefield, and possessing defense capabilities not inferior to Abyss war beasts... He could even imagine the Imperial soldiers' expressions when they saw it, as if they've seen a ghost.

Atlant slightly furrowed his brows, regaining a serious demeanor.

"Do you think he can make it through? Relying on his own strength?"

"I don't know," Colin gently shook his head, his eyes reflecting an enigmatic smile: "No one can predict the future, myself included. I'm just curious... how he plans to cope with the conspiracy targeting him."

Outside the window, the night quietly descended over Demon City, the silent atmosphere subtly spreading within the room.

Tonight was particularly eerie.

A storm was quietly brewing…

...

Demon City, the tavern in the slum area.

Dim lights flickered on the ceiling, the Black Scale Tavern was filled with mixed scents—spicy liquor, lingering sulfur, the musky aroma from intertwining blood and tobacco.

This was the favorite gathering place for old veterans of Demon City.

Like the high-level demons of Demon City, the demons living at the very bottom also had their ways to combat loneliness, albeit not as luxurious and graceful as the former's banquets looked.

Faded battle flags and broken armors hung on the dirty walls, seemingly narrating countless fierce battles' echoes, and the sounds of glasses clashing and laughter or curses seemed to resonate with the battlefield's cries of "kill."

At this moment, the tavern was filled with demons or hellish beings from all around.

Among them were Hell Dwarves with old scars still lingering on their shoulders, demons clad in tattered armor, their eyes long dulled by war, and silent undead officers with fingers wrapped in bandages.

They were either old veterans who survived the battlefield, abandoned wounded soldiers by war, or merely mercenaries unable to find work.

However, there was one commonality.

They all had once contributed their flesh to Hell's war machine and had their futures swallowed by it.

Since night had just descended, it was far from the tavern's liveliest time, thus the atmosphere in the hall remained somewhat stiff.