I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Getting Answers [part 1]
Northern gazed down upon the main hall, eyes brimming with dread.

His fears carried horrific premonitions cascading through his mind as he observed each individual below.

The girl and her companion who had briefly met his stare now turned a corner, disappearing down another hallway.

This vast edifice undoubtedly harbored a labyrinth of passages.

“Northboy! You’re finally awake!”

His eyes widened as a gruff voice called out from behind.

Whirling to face the owner, he found himself swiftly enveloped in a tight embrace.

Annette wrapped her arms around him, eyes closed in a delighted smile.

In contrast, Northern’s features strained into a troubled frown.

He considered pulling away but her grip proved surprisingly secure.

Not that exerting genuine effort would fail to dislodge her, but still…

Wrinkling his nose, he endured the impromptu reunion as Annette seemed to relish the moment.

Then a low whisper escaped his lips.

“You reek…”

Annette’s eyes flew open as she shoved him back harshly.

“Huh? That’s how you address someone worried sick over you?”

Northern glanced around briefly before refocusing on her with an icy stare.

“Don’t they have baths in this place?”

Annette’s brows rose and twitched with indignation.

‘Forget worrying over him – I’ll break this brat!’

She was already quite accustomed to Northern’s brusque demeanor, so it didn’t really surprise her.

He’s the only one that could talk to her around here and get away with it. He did outsmart her once with that damned ability of his.

‘I’m being so easy on him… is it because I evaluated him… he’s the only kid I kind of like around here’

Or maybe she afforded him excessive leeway out of pity, suspecting him to be an unwitting pawn in Rughsbourgh’s schemes.

She could have also taken a liking to him after seeing his father once at the citadel.

After all, Shin’s dashing looks made him quite the heartthrob among female drifters in his youth – the number of scandalous dalliances before finally settling with Eisha would surprise many.

A deep frown etched Northern’s features, commanding Annette’s attention once more.

With a resigned sigh, she addressed him with arms akimbo.

“I’ve been so worried about you… I have searched everywhere for you. To think you’ve been inside a rift all this while.”

His gaze lingered briefly toward the makeshift shelters before refocusing on her, suspicion tingeing his tone.

“Where is this place? Did something happen? Who are all these people?”

Annette stared blankly for a few heartbeats as realization dawned.

‘He doesn’t know. Of course not – He’s been in a rift all the while’

“Will you answer me or just keep gawking?” Northern grunted impatiently.

“You need to fix that appalling disrespect. Then and even now, you speak like I am your mate.”

Annette chided.

Northern arched a brow, belatedly acknowledging the truth of her words.

‘Crap, I must automatically view her as an equal…’

Sometimes he slipped, instinctively reverting to his Elliot persona and forgetting his current circumstances.

With the endless gauntlet in the rift, he could scarcely recall ever being Elliot at all.

Given the relentless trials each day, what use was there in dwelling on his former life as a twenty-something year old successful engineer?

Even now, a part of him wished to discard that notion entirely and start fresh, experiencing a true childhood like his peers.

But straying down that path served no purpose here – not when dread whispered that something catastrophic had transpired, demanding immediate answers.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line… I’m just… agitated,” he amended gruffly.

Annette had scant familiarity with the real Northern, but this thoughtful apology seemed incongruous with the smug, overconfident brat she once met.

She could only attribute the shift to one factor:

‘He must have had his fair share hardship.’ A wistful smile graced her lips.

Hardships possessed an unparalleled ability to humble even the most inflated egos, often without the victim’s awareness.

In her eyes, Northern had evolved from a petulant brat into a more pensive, if still occasionally brusque, individual.

A transformation only achievable through being repeatedly forced to confront life-and-death trials.

Or perhaps she was merely projecting her own assumptions onto his actions.

“But I still need to know… what’s happening here?” He remained resolute as the frown slowly resurfaced.

His newly tempered demeanor didn’t preclude blunt insistence when warranted.

“Allow me to explain,” a baritone voice interjected.

Northern turned, eyes widening at the sight of the approaching figure. ‘What’s going on here?’

“Headmaster Gilbert?”

The wizened man offered a wistful smile.

“I imagine you’re quite curious as to where we are and why we are here. Shall we discuss this privately?” His gaze shifted toward the vermillion-haired woman.

She scowled in response.

A contemplative silence fell as Northern scrutinized the palpable tension between them before fixing Gilbert with a determined look.

“Alright then…”

‘They had better have a damn reasonable explanation for why this place looks like the aftermath of obliteration.’

Gilbert turned to depart, but Northern paused, glancing back at Annette.

“Aren’t you coming?”

She shrugged dismissively.

“That old dog would not want me there…”

Northern arched a reproachful brow. “For someone who just chastised me about disrespect… you’re far worse.”

Annette recoiled as if physically struck.

‘This brat… hardship or not, he hasn’t changed a bit!’

Refocusing on Gilbert, Northern stated bluntly, “Is it alright if Instructor Annette joins us?”

Though phrased as a question, his severe expression allowed no protest.

Gilbert waved them forward before disappearing through the hallway, back where Northern had emerged from earlier.

After a brief trek past the room he woke up in, they reached the corridor’s end – a set of ornate double doors.

Gilbert pushed them open, ushering them into a modest receiving room.

Annette immediately claimed a sofa, crossing her legs as Northern positioned himself before her.

Gilbert leaned against the table opposite, exhaling deeply.

“So…?”

Northern’s gravelly prompt shattered the taut silence.

“Currently…” Gilbert began slowly. “We are not in the Central Plains. We’ve been… transported to the Dark Continent – Stelia, the Starlock Continent in common language.”

Thud

Northern’s composure shattered instantly, his expression contorting into a dark, murderous scowl that seemed to bore straight through Gilbert’s soul.

The elder’s eyes flew wide as an icy chill gripped him.

‘Bloodlust?!’

Tendrils of primal fear crept up his spine.

Before he could so much as draw his blade, Northern had already closed the distance – a black dagger now pressing precariously against Gilbert’s jugular, drawing a bead of crimson.

“Were you in on it too… What useless crap is you and the principal planning to do?” Northern inquired with the cold ferocious glare of an experienced killer.