214: Are you really eating people?

Time passed quietly. As Celius's plans were making steady progress,

the two teams that had previously infiltrated weren't idling either—

"Gentlemen, this is the last time I will emphasize this,"

"Tonight's banquet is of the utmost importance."

"Here, you will meet the group of people who can sway the fate of the entire Consortium—"

"Not those polished professional bureaucrats on the surface, but the small handful of people truly standing at the top of the pyramid,"

"For everyone—even if only for the sake of the families you represent—you must give this your absolute all..."

It was now one hour before the "banquet" began. The magnificent hall was mostly set up,

with several luxuriously decorated, extravagant long tables, wine glasses stacked into towers, incense burning in every corner, and vintage hand-woven carpets, creating an atmosphere that was dignified, grand, and elegant.

At this moment, a man who appeared to be of high status stood before a group of service staff, giving his final instructions,

while Dale, the leader of the Thirteenth Team, looked on with indifference, thinking only of when this farce would end—

After absorbing the memories of the waiter he was currently impersonating, he really, really, really wanted to go on a killing spree.

As for why?

First of all, most of the waiters here belonged to the lowest-ranking families among the First-Class Citizens.

By comparison, they were like the attendants of... knights within the medieval nobility.

But even a low-ranking noble was still a noble. Like the person Dale was playing, the original owner of this body came from a family of modest means, yet he had a near-pathological obsession with studying noble etiquette and traditions.

And what made Dale sick was precisely these so-called "noble traditions."

Leaving aside the common vices—such as viewing the humiliation of lower classes and the ability to strip them of their lives at any time as "glory," or turning freemen they liked into slaves just for comparison—what he found most shocking was that among the "First-Class Citizens" of The Consortium,

cannibalism was a habit, a tradition—even a part of their daily lives.

This "eating people" was not the traditional concept of exploitation and oppression,

but consumption in the physical sense.

In fact, through a century of twisted evolution, these noble lords of The Consortium had even specialized in this so-called "art of cannibalism"—

"The blood of a sad person will turn sour; the blood of a person in pain will have a hint of sweetness; the blood of a person filled with guilt will be thicker."

"Taking the heart of a young virgin while she is still conscious, turning it into sashimi within a minute and serving it with orchid sauce, makes for a traditional appetizer..."

As for the sources of those to be eaten, they were quite varied—

There were "high-grade goods" adopted by various large families since childhood, as well as "lucky ones" snatched up on a whim,

And among these "meat humans," there were ranks and grades, sorted by quality.

In short, this truly, truly, truly made Dale physically uncomfortable.

Before extracting the memories, a significant number of Special Operations Team Members had been skeptical about the idea of raiding the entire banquet,

After all, that would be an indiscriminate attack. If they just started killing everyone, would they harm the innocent?

But when they saw these memories, everyone fell silent—

Now all they were thinking was whether just killing these bastards would be letting them off too easy.

"Alright—"

"That is all. Please go to your positions and stand by."

"You two from the Villa Family, please follow me to confirm the status of the ingredients."

Just as Dale was thinking about how to kill these heretics more efficiently later, the voice in front suddenly stopped.

Then, the crowd began to disperse, and three of them walked outside.

After Dale silently memorized the faces of these people, he also turned and left, returning to the post assigned to this body—

He saw in the communication on his personal terminal that Captain Celius's "skin-swapping" plan was almost complete.

Just one more hour of patience—just one hour!

Dale felt his lips trembling slightly.

Allowing these heretics to live one more second in this world felt like an utter profanity!

...Minute by minute, time passed.

Gradually, all the lights on the stage came on. Plates, knives, and forks, polished to a shine, were meticulously placed on the tables.

And small figures, bound by colorful but sturdy ribbons, were unknowingly placed in various corners of the hall.

The start of the so-called banquet was drawing closer and closer!

"Representative of the Azerarlst Family—entering!"

"Representative of the Tredmonsis Family—entering!"

"..."

The master of ceremonies' voice rang out repeatedly as a large number of people dressed in complex and ancient attire, clearly "important figures," entered one by one.

Almost every one of them held a chain in their hand, at the end of which was a person crawling on all fours—

These people were male or female; some were completely naked, while others were meticulously dressed; some had intact limbs, while others were left with only four joints.

Those leading them stood above, competing and showing off, as if these were their "great achievements."

This made the twenty infiltrated Special Operations Team Members clench their fists. If they didn't still need to hide, they would have loved to pounce immediately and tear those human-looking heretics to pieces.

Just as their anger was building up, an announcement suddenly rang through the air, briefly drawing their attention—

"Second-Class Citizen, Minister of Defense of The Consortium, Orscidra Varal, has arrived—"

The target of their mission was entering!

...