Richard didn't think about it further. After all, this kind of thing became more complicated the deeper he dug, and the shady story might be too big to imagine. He doesn't have the time and energy to waste it yet. The most important thing at the moment is to leave Pompeii safely.
Looking at Rommel, Richard said: "Director, I can consider your suggestion. However, I am afraid that it will be difficult for me to develop the magic pattern vehicle by myself. Maybe when I have an idea, I can draft a blueprint and let him Organize interested wizards to work together on research. However, that will have to happen after I make a breakthrough in my personal research. At the moment, I still want to try to see if I can solve the problems I encountered in my research."
"Then I wish you good luck." Rommel said with a smile, "I hope that when you return to Pompeii again, you will bring victory and joy."
As he spoke, Rommel stamped special seals with mana fluctuations on the two documents and put them in a cabinet on one side for storage. Then he took out a brand new document from the cabinet, signed his name, printed the same seal, and handed it over.
"Wizard Richard, this is a certificate that you can get support from Pompeii resources while you are away from Pompeii." Rommel explained, "Specifically, you can call spell materials, borrow materials, ask some technical wizards, etc. Keep it. Don’t lose it.”
"Okay, thank you very much, supervisor." Richard took it, carefully put it in his arms and put it away, then said goodbye, "So, supervisor, let's see you later?"
"Goodbye." Rommel waved.
Richard nodded lightly, turned around and walked out the door without saying anything else.
Everything was normal, and it looked like he could really leave Pompeii safely... Richard breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, turned left when he went out, went downstairs, and walked outside the business point.
In the hall where the business was conducted, the setting sun shone in, making the ground golden. He stepped forward step by step on the "golden road". All around, there were many other wizards in the hall, talking, asking, and arguing with the office staff about various things. He turned a deaf ear to all this and just kept walking forward, finally reaching the door.
"Hoo-ho-"
He paused briefly at the door and took a deep breath. Pompeii's unique sulfur-scented air flowed straight down his mouth and nose and into his lungs. Even after staying here for several months, he still felt a little uncomfortable.
But it doesn't matter. I probably won't breathe this kind of air again... It should be really safe now. In theory, no one can stop him from leaving Pompeii, so... Okay, that's it.
Richard did not continue thinking. He realized in time that his thinking was suspected of setting a flag, so he stopped cautiously. He smiled slightly self-deprecatingly, then walked out of the door with a calm expression and walked into the light of the setting sun.
In the brilliance, all golden.
…
The hall was dark.
In the hall, which is more than fifty meters long and wide and looks like a small playground, dozens of bronze lampposts are burning with flames.
In the middle of the hall, a gray-white bone table more than three meters long was placed as before and had never been moved.
Suddenly, the air rippled.
An older man, wearing a long black robe, appeared in the room out of nowhere. He walked closer to the bone table, making no sound as he walked, like a mist.
After a while, he walked behind the bone table and sat down facing the high-backed bone chair. After meditating for a while on the high-back bone chair, he made a low voice, as if talking to himself: "Is there a deep-sea super life? It is indeed a bit powerful, but..."
"But... you are still destined to be eliminated." The man chuckled, then regained his composure, and reached out to touch the documents piled high on the surface of the bone table.
I grabbed a document and was about to examine it in detail when a small door in the corner of the hall opened with a creak and a fat man weighing more than 200 pounds ran in.
The fat man trotted to the bone table, wiped his sweat and said loudly: "Sir, there is news from Chekhov over there in heaven."
"Chekhov?" The man's eyebrows moved slightly, and he quickly remembered something that had almost been ignored.
More than twenty days ago, Chekhov, one of his subordinates, told him that he was undergoing soul restoration in heaven. After the soul is repaired and the memories of his life are found, he will go to the branch of the Southern Freedom Alliance. The other party is very convinced that he has found some secrets hidden by the Southern Free Federation, which may harm the interests of the organization. He wants to expose them and make a contribution. On the other hand, it can also wash away the shame of accidental death.
In fact, he didn't take this matter too seriously. After all, the things the organization has to deal with now range from the deep sea to the snowy mountains, from forests to swamps, from continental trends to the control of the spread of dangerous technologies, from wide-scale secrecy to programmed containment... and so on, there are already too many.
Just what is visible is busy enough, but what is invisible...or not exposed, there is actually no need to invest too much energy in paying attention to it.
The branch of the Southern Free Federation, he knew, was now under Rommel's control.
Rommel was relatively friendly with Foehn, the other Color Ring manager, but in comparison, he was a little cold towards him. But he doesn't think that the other party will do anything to betray the organization, even if the other party doesn't support him.
He believed that the other party's ability and loyalty were enough to manage many affairs in the Southern Free Federation - even if there were some minor problems, they should be insignificant problems. After all, it is him who makes some mistakes when dealing with many things. This is understandable.
The real purpose of why he sent Chekhov and Golov as inspectors was to understand the current situation of various branches of some organizations so that he could respond quickly when something happened. To be honest, he doesn't really want to target a certain branch to make the members of the branch fear him.
Everyone in the entire organization serves the True God. Members should not fear him or the Master of the Other Color Rings. There should be only one object of reverence, and that is the Lord of Heaven and the entire world - the True God.
Therefore, although Chekhov spoke strongly, he just took it as it comes.
If Chekhov can really investigate anything after his resurrection, it is okay for him to let nature take its course and adjust the Southern Free Federation. If nothing comes out of the investigation and it turns out to be a misunderstanding, there is no regret.
As long as the entire organization moves forward along the prescribed path under the guidance of the true God, it doesn't matter if minor problems of this kind occasionally arise. The direction is right, the future is bright, and eventually the whole world will usher in redemption.
At most it's just a difference between earlier and later.
So now, will the redemption come earlier because his subordinates noticed the problem in advance, or will the redemption arrive later because his subordinates made mistakes in judgment and wasted precious resources
The man looked at the fat man's subordinate Golov at the table and said: "Is there any news about Chekhov? It should be that his soul has been completely repaired. Then put the call on and let me ask him what he wants to do." What."
"Yes." Golov responded. He flipped his hands and took out a crystal ball with a diameter of more than 30 centimeters from somewhere. He placed it gently on the ground and quickly operated it.
…