City Hall. 5th floor.

Ding~

The elevator doors opened.

Walking out the elevator, Wearing a serious expression, Atlas made a simple hand sign.

Responding with a nod, the two Smite member waited by the elevator doors.

Atlas walked down this silent hallway. This floor was smaller than the other floors. There were only 3 office rooms here.

Passing through open doors, Atlas arrived a receptionist room.

"The keyholder has been waiting for you." A mid-aged receptionist lady looked up at Atlas.

Hearing this, Atlas' brows furrowed.

Pausing to think for an instance, Atlas walked past the receptionist counter.

Pushing open a thick office door, Atlas entered the keyholder's office.

This place was well-lit as usual. A sideboard and a coffee machine in a corner. Rows of bookshelves by the walls. Family photos of the keyholder here and there. Chairs and a game table.

Across this room, there was a large wooden desk, and naturally, a boss chair.

Entering this room, Atlas could only see the back of that chair. Behind that chair, a puff of smoke floated up.

At the moment, the keyholder was staring out of his window. Yet, in this fogged up weather condition, nothing much could be seen.

"Atlas, you are here." The keyholder spoke in a calming voice and turned around. Looking at the towering fella with a peaceful gaze, the keyholder smoked on his cigar.

In a couple of months, this old fella had shrunk a size. His white dress shirt and dress pants looked oversized now. Even in the warm weather of May, this guy still wore a toque. It's as if he's cold.

"When?" Atlas asked with a serious expression.

"When did I realize your plan?" The keyholder puffed out a ring of smoke and smiled. "Atlas... If you didn't want to expose your ties with those thugs, nobody can find out. I have at least this much faith in you."

"All of that set up, just so you can push an all-in for today." The keyholder looked at Atlas with a smiling gaze.

Atlas was attempting to seize his power. Yet, this old keyholder didn't look bothered at all. In fact, he looked a little proud?

Hearing this response, Atlas' pupils shrunk. "Why didn't you stop me?"

The keyholder sighed. "The future is in the hands of the young."

Atlas looked down at the old man with an intense gaze. "So you decided to let us play it out."

"I suppose you can understand it this way..." The keyholder puffed on his cigar. "Tell me Atlas, during your time inside the sanctuary, what have you seen?"

"A bloated bureaucracy. A convoluted and blurry system. Entangled responsibilities, powers, and interests. All of this is acceptable."

"However, there is nothing getting done. Small problems are getting solved slowly. Major problems remain untouched."

"The sanctuary needs one deciding voice. This city needs a strong leader." Atlas replied with a solemn voice.

"Yes Atlas." The keyholder tiredly sighed. "I can only help you so far."

"You've grown up, Atlas."

"... And you have grown old..." Atlas' gaze became complicated. "Uncle Samson."

"... I suppose so." The keyholder sighed. "I suppose so. But must it be the void? You do understand, the consequences will be severe."

"Yes." Atlas firmly replied. "We must be prepared before the next major crisis hits."

"This is a sacrifice I will have to take."

"We have successfully fended off Lord Trample back at New Years."

"But what if a stronger monster appears? What if Jeff is on a vacation again, or out hunting. You know how he is. It's impossible to confine him to the sanctuary. This man won't relinquish his freedoms without a fight."

"Atlas." The keyholder tiredly shook his head. "Jeff owes us nothing. He helped us more than we paid him back. If you ask him nicely, he will be on your side. You can't treat everyone as your subordinate or your property."

"No keyholder. No." Atlas' gaze turned cold. "Extraordinary times require extraordinary measures. A resident of the sanctuary must obey orders of the sanctuary."

"For the sanctuary, I've taken this dangerous path. The burden of sacrifice should not be only weighed onto the honorable."

"Can we trust Jeff? Can we really rely on Jeff? A man who is unwilling to make sacrifices for this settlement. A man who refuses to swear allegiance to this settlement? Can we?"

"Fine. Let's supposed we can. But putting the livelihood of 20,000 residents on a single man is simply madness!"

"We need countermeasures!"

"What if one day, Jeff woke up, and decided that his life was too boring, and he wants to be the villain. Maybe he decided to collude with the monsters for fun. Do we just stand here, and wait for our demise?"

"Through near-death experiences, and relentless training, I've pushed myself from C-rank to SS-rank."

"But now, I've hit a glass ceiling! Training won't build any more potential in me now. We need another path forward!"

"To fend off the mist monsters, we need the help from the void!"

"For this settlement, and for its residents, I am willing to sacrifice my life! We can't just sit around!"

Hearing this, the keyholder sighed.

The two locked gazes. The keyholder's gaze was a mixture of acknowledgement, satisfaction, and a longing worry.

Atlas' gaze was steeled and determined.

The keyholder sighed and lightly shook his head.

Seeing this, Atlas clenched his fists.

"Well Atlas. The sanctuary is yours. The future is in your hands." The keyholder pulled out an envelope from his under-desk drawer.

"This is the code for upgrading your status to keyholder." The keyholder took off his toque. This old man had no hair left now.

After sliding the envelope to the edge of this desk, the keyholder leaned back. Sticking a hand into his shirt, the keyholder grabbed onto something.

Seeing this, Atlas widened his eyes. Realizing what the keyholder was doing, Atlas' breath became short. This towering dude clenched his fists, then let go. At this moment, Atlas looked rather indecisive.

"Stay calm. Stay focussed. Stay vigilant." The keyholder twisted and pulled onto something. A few electric sparks flied out the old dude's shirt.

The keyholder let out one last exhale. It's as if this old man had finally found relief. Leaning forward, the keyholder's chin pressed against his own neck.

Life quickly fleeted from this old fella's body. Yet, looking closely, one could see a smile on the keyholder's face.