Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Baijiu's gaze shifted away from the black fence that symbolized temporary obstruction and failure, as if trying to shake off the cold touch and the sense of defeat that was so close yet unattainable.

He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over the space, which appeared even more chaotic and oppressive due to the sudden chase and the lowering of the partition.

Next to the heavy, locked security door, there was not a completely sealed wall, but a heavy, bulletproof observation window that took up most of the wall.

Behind the window, there appeared to be a larger room adjacent to it.

Previously, due to the angle and lighting, and because all my attention was focused on Rum, I hadn't taken a closer look.

At this moment, the interior of the room is faintly visible through the slightly reflective special glass.

In the center of the room, a solitary object stood alone.

It was a rectangular "box," but it was much larger than a regular coffin. It was estimated to be nearly three meters long, and its width and height were over one and a half meters. It looked more like a hibernation pod prepared for giants or special equipment.

The outer shell is made of a peculiar material, neither gold nor wood, with a matte dark gray sheen and a surface so smooth that it hardly reflects the unusually cold pale blue light shining down from above.

The light was not uniform illumination, but rather projected down from a sophisticated structure above, like a surgical shadowless lamp, completely enveloping the "giant box" and cutting sharp lines of light and shadow across its surface, further highlighting its isolated, precise, and inhuman presence.

The object stands out starkly from its surroundings—a slightly messy, dusty, and abandoned infrastructure—it is clean, cold, and possesses a strange, futuristic beauty.

Bai Jiu's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, the dizziness and excruciating pain from his serious injury seemingly being temporarily suppressed by the abnormal scene before him.

He took two steps forward, closer to the observation window, his voice hoarse from thirst and injury, but every word was clear:

"what is this?"

He asked everyone, but his gaze never left the "giant box".

“That’s the tool Rum uses to communicate with the ‘intelligent entity’.”

Kiel answered him.

Her voice was calm, but beneath that calm lay a deep, complex mix of fear, hatred, and a strange sense of understanding.

She didn't approach the glass; instead, she stood still, her icy blue eyes fixed on the object in the room, as if looking at a familiar nightmare.

Baijiu's gaze suddenly became even more profound.

He didn't ask for details, but instead lowered his gaze to an inconspicuous retinal scanner on the wall next to the observation window.

The instrument screen was dark, but the interface indicator light was glowing a faint green light, indicating that it was in standby mode.

He glanced at the scanner, then at the ominous "giant box" in the room, and seemed to make some kind of assessment or decision in an instant.

Before anyone could fully grasp the meaning of Kiel's words, or even consider how to bypass the fence or open the security door—

Next to the observation window, the sealed glass door, which uses a similar control system to the security door but perhaps has different access permissions, suddenly emitted a very faint hissing sound, as if air pressure was being released.

Immediately afterward, under the tense gazes of everyone, the heavy glass door slowly and smoothly opened automatically to the side along the hidden track.

There were no alarms, no questions, as if the presence of “permission” had been recognized.

Inside the door, the "giant box" shrouded in cold blue light and the entire empty room were presented to them without any obstruction.

A stream of air, cooler and cleaner than the air in the outside corridor, carrying the distinctive smell of circulating gas, poured out from inside the door, creating a stark contrast to the dust and blood stench outside.

This abrupt opening carries a strange sense of "invitation".

McCallan and Vodka raised their guns almost simultaneously, as if by reflex!

The gun was not pointed inside the door, but rather warily pointed to the sides of the doorway and the shadowy corners inside the room—a standard tactical alert posture.

Vodka's massive body shifted slightly to the side, blocking Kiel's path slightly in front of him.

Baijiu, however, did not seem particularly surprised by the door opening automatically, or perhaps he suppressed his surprise and doubt.

He raised his hand, signaling McCallum and Vodka to calm down, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing his lips to twitch.

Without the slightest hesitation, he took a step forward.

Despite his body being heavy and unsteady due to severe injuries, his steps were unusually steady, carrying an unwavering determination to explore.

He was the first to pass through the automatically opening glass door and step into the room dominated by cold blue light and an eerie silence.

Vermouth followed closely behind, her icy blue eyes sharply scanning every corner, every inch of the wall and ceiling, searching for any potential hidden threats or surveillance equipment. She maintained a distance from Baijiu that allowed her to provide support without interfering with his presence.

McCallen and Vodka exchanged a glance and quickly adjusted their formation.

McCallen whispered to Kiel, "Stay close to me," and then he and Vodka, standing guard on either side, entered the room, their guns always pointed in the direction of potential danger, using their bodies to provide flank cover for Kiel in the middle and Baijiu and Vermouth in front.

The five maintained a highly vigilant formation, like an expedition team entering an unknown lair, slowly approaching the "colossal creature" emanating a cold aura in the center of the room.

The closer you get, the more you can feel the oppressive feeling of this "box".

It stood there silently, its surface smooth and unsettling, without any visible seams, buttons, displays, or logos.

The cold, pale blue light shone on it, making it seem not like an inanimate object, but a living thing that was "hibernating" or "on standby."

It certainly doesn't resemble a coffin; it's more like a hibernation pod from a science fiction movie, used for long-distance interstellar travel or survival in extreme environments, but it's simpler and more...inhuman.

The liquor stopped about two meters away from the "box".

He was breathing slightly heavily, cold sweat beading on his forehead, but his eyes were frighteningly focused.

He bent down slightly, with the caution and meticulousness of an archaeologist examining a thousand-year-old artifact, and began to examine the structure of this rectangular "box" up close and in detail.

His gaze moved along every almost invisible texture of the matte surface, trying to find traces of splicing or hidden joints.

He even tilted his head slightly to observe the subtle refraction changes of light on the material surface from different angles.

Then, he made an even bolder move.

He carefully extended his right hand, which was stained with blood and dust but was unusually steady at the moment. He slowly opened his palm and then very gently and tentatively placed the tips of his index and middle fingers against the cold, smooth surface of the "box".

Instead of pressing directly, it's more like using the most sensitive tactile nerves of your fingertips to feel the unique texture and temperature of the material, and... whether there is an extremely subtle vibration or energy flow.

In the current perilous environment, where powerful enemies may retaliate or set traps at any moment, this action appears both professional and carries an almost reckless desire for exploration.

Everyone held their breath. McCallan and Vodka unconsciously adjusted the muzzles of their guns slightly, as if preparing to deal with any possible anomalies that the "box" might produce.

Inside the room, only the low hum of the central air conditioning system and the suppressed breathing of the few people remained.

The fingertips, holding the baijiu, touched the cold surface that was neither metal nor wood.

He closed his eyes briefly, as if concentrating all his senses, then slowly opened them again, his gaze becoming even more profound and unfathomable.