Bastion’s heartfelt, sorrowful, and anguished cries for help naturally did not go unanswered.

Before his plea for help had even come, Kieran’s fingers were already tapping a translucent display swiftly, notifying those in their circle that he required.

Though their facility was more geared toward research than fit to render the finest medical aid, some of the devices in the facility could be modified to prioritize health rather than record information from a recovery process.

Lillian was naturally the one to handle that, so Kieran compiled all the data Weasel had hacked and provided, giving Lillian a detailed overview of their current situation. There was a lot to sift through due to Dahlia’s abrupt decline in health, but Kieran hoped some of Lillian’s connections in the medical sphere could shine a light on the situation.

If an unknown sickness was spreading across Earth, the only dependable recourse would have to be to the researchers of the Private Sector employed by the World Council. Given their confidential clearance and undisclosed job descriptions, they should have an elementary grasp of any ongoing, pending, or potential crisis.

…If they could be trusted to speak the truth.

In that same vein, Weasel was more of a backup plan, tasked with combing the web for information no matter how disparate it seemed. Then, he was to use one of his modified algorithms to compile it all into a coherent report that served their agenda.

Considering the security level of institutions that would harbor information of that nature, Kieran understood Weasel had an onerous task ahead of him.

Yet… Kieran could only shake his head as Weasel gleefully replied. The challenge delighted him, and that happiness was expressed through a nonstop exchange of messages, each more unnerving than the last.

‘Does he think the web is his mistress or something? Why on the gods green earth is he detailing how he will fuck it?!’

Kieran groaned silently and miserably, face-palming before moving along to the next person — Allan. His role in all this was a tad more obscure. Of his staff, Allan undoubtedly had the most robust connections — connections fostered through his years of tenure at Gamer Republic Inc.

Granted, Kieran had no way of knowing how valuable those connections would be in this situation. After all, Kieran was poaching Allan, and the mid-level manager had begun the resignation procedure. The idea to delay the departure had come from Kieran.

Not so much to have an eye and ear within the corporation as for Allan to scope out someone Kieran was looking for — someone with a higher position in the corporation who could serve as a better informer.

Kieran had a sneaking suspicion that the top brass of the Gamer Republic Inc. was privy to the clandestine affairs occurring within Apex Industries, Summit Projects, and the World Council. After all, the Gamer Republic had endorsed Zenith Online’s official launch and even possessed an official platform for streamable content.

Creating such a platform that continued to undergo frequent refinements and experience new iterations took a lot of trial and error, which meant it was costly to shell out so quickly.

The bill was undoubtedly footed by Summit Projects, who had just made a killing with their release of the Virtual Pods. Of course, the stock was limited and already exhausted, meaning it would be some time before another batch would be sold.

Even then, the public wouldn’t hear about it because people like Kieran had large orders on stand-by, which would be filled once the inventory was refilled.

‘Is the Gamer Republic receiving hush money?’

Taking hush money to remain silent about nefarious affairs was nothing new. Kieran had heard rumors of many companies and families doing just so, but that generally meant they were also complicit in the act.

Though it seemed possible, it also felt too shallow and frivolous to Kieran, like it was the easy answer, and his mind wasn’t thinking enough. Not everything was so black and white.

So, if not hush money, then what insidious purpose did the amassing of staggering amounts of funds serve?

Kieran pondered over that some more but came up empty. He couldn’t predict what these global companies cultivated behind closed doors, which is why he needed people directly involved in those affairs.

The “unknown sickness” that didn’t seem like H-COS was probably something he overlooked in his past life or simply misdiagnosed. The severity of its presence was only exacerbated by Bastion’s ordeal.

On one hand, it was an unfortunate situation that could ultimately devastate Bastion. On the other hand, it served as a matchless impetus to spark Kieran into action. The fear of missing out on Zenith Online no longer crossed Kieran’s mind.

As the Myth of the End, he doubted he would ever want for a grand quest or a dreadful opponent to inspire hopelessness and despair.

‘Ah, is that why Astraea stressed that we not plague ourselves with the concerns of the mundane? Because of this subtle change in thinking?’

Kieran felt it aligned with what Astraea insinuated, but he thought she was somewhat wrong, too. They were, after all, still partly mundane.

The seemingly arbitrary distinction between what was and wasn’t mundane was vague to Kieran, including the level of power where one was no longer considered a mundane entity.

Still, Kieran attributed anything beyond the mundane to Gods — the Endless — and immortal beings.

Eventually, Kieran set aside all the thoughts running rampant in his mind and focused on his teammates, chiefly Nemean, who pacified Bastion as best he could.

Kieran approached gingerly, standing opposite Bastion and Nemean.

“Lillian is preparing everything we would need to care for her. But I suspect we’ll have to be careful in transporting her. For that… Lillian has called in a favor.”

Bastion’s eyes watered as he looked at Kieran.

“I’m sorry, boss. The doc is using her precious favors on someone like me. It’s a waste, I know. I’ll find a way to pay you back. I swear it.”

Kieran deadpanned, then scowled and immediately started berating his Shield.

“You dumb or what, Thomas? Ain’t no way this is a damned waste. I’ve watched you put in blood, sweat, and tears to train your body to keep up with the strain VR Gear places upon us. Whether it’s you or the others putting in similar grueling effort, the sacrifice is worth it. And if you want to pay me back, continue contributing to our legacy.”

Bastion sniffled and tackled Kieran in a bearhug, only Kieran didn’t lose his balance, remaining sturdy and steadfast in his footing.

“I love you, Boss! No, really, I do.”

“Don’t forget to love me too, Thomas.” Nemean sulked and complained but didn’t mean a word. He simply wanted to creep up and enjoy a group hug.

Altair watched silently at the door, then Kieran looked toward him with a meaningful smirk and gestured with his hand as if saying: “come on over.”

Altair approached without meeting anyone’s gaze and joined the hug. He kept his face stoic to not allow any of them to know his emotions, but he donned a small smile.

However, the heartwarming atmosphere was eventually broken by Bastion, who started to hoot and howl.

“Hey! Who is poking me in my butt? Get away from me, you heathen!”

And just like that, the joyous, brotherly was broken up, replaced by stifled laughter from everyone. Dahlia stirred, and her eyes opened, deliberately rolling around the room before her hand weakly grasped Bastion’s forearm.

Her aged, gentle voice came.

“My little Thomas, I love to hear you laughing.”