dkrc Chapter 117: PUDDING
Chapter 117: PUDDING
Silas stood in his room, staring at the hanger in front of him.
He was wrapped in a towel from the waist down.
The room’s design was simple but elegant.
A single bed rested against the wall at the far end of the room, with a window on the wall above it.
Another door led to the bathroom.
Clouds drifted through the sky, passing the window slowly.
"Why do I have to wear a suit?" Silas wondered as he stared at the suit placed on the hanger before him.
He walked closer, scanning it with scrutiny.
It was a deep matte black suit.
From the shirt, to the blazer, to the trousers.
Everything was black.
"How do you even know my size?" Silas asked, looking away from the suit toward the two people standing beside the entrance door.
It was Asher and the butler who had shown Silas and the others to their rooms.
The butler smiled at Silas’s question.
"Leave our methods to us. All you need to do is wear your suit and attend the banquet in twenty minutes," the butler replied with a bow before walking out.
Silas watched his retreating figure for a moment, then looked at Asher.
"That guy is strange," he said with a sigh.
Asher smiled at Silas’s words but offered nothing in return.
"Excuse me while I get dressed," Silas said.
Asher bowed lightly. The door opened with a soft click as he stepped out.
Silas took the clothes from the hanger and dressed quickly.
After a few minutes, he was done.
Looking into the mirror, he tucked the golden embroidery into the shirt pocket.
"Well, it is not that bad," he muttered, turning away from the mirror to pick up the shoes beside the hanger.
He took a pair of socks from the hanger and wore them before slipping on the black shoes.
They fit as though they had been made for him.
He straightened up and gave one last glance at his reflection.
A knock at the door broke his thoughts.
"It is time," Asher’s voice came from behind the door, calm and even as always.
Silas walked to the door and pulled it open.
Asher stood in the hallway, dressed in his usual dark grey suit.
He smiled as Silas stepped out.
"Funny how you tried to avoid wearing this suit," Asher muttered beneath his breath.
But it did not escape Silas’s ears.
Silas chuckled at those words.
They began walking toward the stairs.
The soft distant sound of music reached their ears as they descended.
"It started really quickly," Silas murmured.
Normally, a gathering that had started only minutes ago would not have reached this level of energy.
At least, according to everything he had known before.
’I need to start getting used to life outside Veritas,’ he thought.
They reached the first floor quickly.
But there was a problem.
"Only candidates may attend the event," one of the guards said, looking at Asher.
Asher was about to speak, but Silas was faster.
"Go back to my room. I will return soon."
Asher hesitated for a moment, but there was nothing he could do.
He nodded and turned back.
Silas faced the two guards and smiled.
"May I pass?" He asked.
They nodded, stepping aside.
Silas sighed as he walked past them and continued his descent.
The music drew closer with each step.
Until.
It was directly in his ears.
Silas looked out at the hall.
At a glance, there were over a thousand people already gathered.
He made quick strides toward one of the tables.
But a maid stopped him with a gentle bow.
"My apologies, sir," she said. "The VIP area is not here."
Silas blinked. "VIP?" He wondered.
"Yes. The embroidery is a symbol of VIP status," the maid said, glancing at the tag on Silas’s chest.
Silas looked down at it, then at the other guests around the tables.
None of them had anything on their chests.
"Where is the VIP area?" He asked.
"I will guide you there," another maid said from behind.
Silas turned.
The maid bowed lightly, lifting the edges of her dress slightly as she looked at him.
"Okay," Silas replied.
She turned and began walking in the opposite direction.
Silas followed, his steps faltering slightly as the stares of a thousand people pressed against him from all sides.
They reached a point and the maid gestured toward an elevator.
Silas glanced at her for a moment before stepping inside.
The doors closed with a chime.
Then a soft ding before they slid open again.
The VIP hall revealed itself.
With his computational ability, Silas counted everyone in the room in an instant.
Exactly ninety nine people.
Including him now, a hundred.
Each one was seated at their own private table, attended by a personal maid.
Silas’s eyes swept the room for his table.
He found it quickly.
A table at the upper end of the hall with his name placed boldly on it.
He stepped out of the elevator and walked toward it with calm steps.
The floor beneath was made of glass.
It showed those in the hall below as clearly as crystal.
Unlike the main hall, almost no one here spared Silas more than a passing glance before looking away.
After all, they were all peerless geniuses from their respective planets.
But a few eyes followed him. Each one carrying their own silent calculations.
Silas ignored all of it.
"I wonder where Amelia and Billie are," he muttered.
The maid assigned to his table pulled a chair out, letting him sit.
"This is the menu, sir," she said, extending her palm as a holographic screen flared to life on the table.
"Chocolate pudding."
The maid blinked.
Silas had not even scrolled before he made his choice.
And unlike everyone else in the room, he had bypassed the entire premium selection in favor of chocolate.
"Is something wrong?" Silas asked, feeling her eyes on him.
"Nothing, sir. Is that all you want?"
"For now," Silas replied.
In reality, he had chosen chocolate pudding because the list was nearly endless and scrolling through all of it would have been exhausting.
"Excuse me, sir," she said, stepping away with calm measured strides toward the food stand.
Silas watched her for a moment before looking away.
He glanced to his left at the table beside his.
His eyes were cold.
If a stare could kill, the person sitting there would have died ten times in a second.
The person smiled at Silas.
In one smooth motion, he rose and made his way over with gentle strides.
His maid moved to follow, but he stopped her with a gesture.
"What do you want?" Silas asked as the person reached his table.
He smiled lightly.
"You don’t have to be so cold," he said.
The boy appeared to be around the same age as Silas, perhaps a few months older.
He had pale blue hair that cascaded down his shoulders and silver eyes that seemed to pierce straight through a person.
"May I sit?" He asked with a gentle smile.
Silas looked at him, then at the empty chair.
After a moment, he nodded. "Yes."
The boy pulled the chair out and sat.
"Sylvester Orion," he said, extending his hand.
Silas looked at it, his thoughts running at full speed.
’What is someone from that clan doing here?’ He wondered.
"Silas Lancaster," Silas replied, shaking his hand.
Sylvester smiled.
"I know of you. Rank one in our sector. Everyone does. They just do not know what you look like."
He glanced around the room as he said it.
"Well, they know now."
Silas followed his gaze.
Stares.
Everyone seemed to be looking at him now.
But that was not what made Silas pause.
Billie and Amelia were also up here, but both of them were already surrounded.
He shook his head at this.
’It is probably his status keeping people from swarming me too,’ he thought.
He could not help but wonder why all three of them had been placed in such standing.
"What do you want?" Silas turned to Sylvester, repeating the same question as before.
"I only want to make friends, nothing more," Sylvester said, raising both hands.
"I never knew you could become friends with someone just by asking though," Silas said, his posture easing as a slight smile formed on his face.
Just then the maid returned.
"Sir, your pudding," she said, setting the bowl carefully on the table with a spoon beside it.
"Thank you," Silas said, picking up the spoon.
He took a spoonful.
The flavor seemed to melt in his mouth, drawing something close to euphoria out of him.
He nearly closed his eyes.
’Still falls short of the governor’s personal chef though,’ Silas thought, looking up.
Sylvester’s eyes were fixed on him, as though he had been assigned to monitor his every move.
"Do you want some?" Silas asked, pushing the bowl toward Sylvester with one hand.