"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! This isn't right!"

Early in the morning, a certain someone's wailing resounded within the Fortress of the Morning Wind, the sound was mournfully lingering, like a donkey pinned to a stake, seconds away from being beheaded by the Butcher.

From the corridor came the clattering sound of wheels, and Bologue appeared at the end of the corridor, pushing a wheelchair with Palmer on it, who was constantly shrieking.

Earlier this morning, Palmer was deep in a wonderful dream, when Bologue suddenly burst in, bringing along a wheelchair.

Judging by Palmer's usual death-like slumber, Bologue shouldn't wake him, actually, that was Bologue's plan too, to stealthily transport Palmer outside so that when he wakes and realizes, it'd be too late.

Yet unexpectedly for Bologue, the moment he opened the door, Palmer instinctively opened his eyes.

Thanks to some bad memories brought by Zefirin, Palmer's alertness during sleep had unknowably increased many times.

Palmer looked at Bologue cautiously, demanding, "What are you up to?"

Bologue didn't reply, he knew Palmer's character; if he knew what was about to happen, the situation would undoubtedly become ugly.

"Here, you come."

Bologue nodded to the side as a gesture and then stepped aside, Vasilina appeared at the doorway, cracking her knuckles.

Vasilina was practically an expert when it came to handling Palmer; her presence alone made Palmer's face change, though Bologue assumed Palmer feared her, Palmer, in fact, recalled what he had said to Vasilina, realizing now it seemed nothing more than drunken blabber.

But Palmer surely hadn't been drinking.

Palmer took a deep breath and admonished himself internally, "Palmer, you've made your choice, adhere to your ideas and don't overthink those future matters."

Hence, Palmer beamed a smile, waving to Vasilina.

"Good…"

The word wasn't fully out of his mouth when Vasilina swiftly stepped up to Palmer and delivered a karate chop to his neck.

Palmer maintained his smiling expression as his head tilted to the side, instantly passing out.

Vasilina, like a robber, turned and signaled to Bologue, who nodded approvingly, working hard to hoist Palmer onto the wheelchair.

In the unsteady rush, Palmer quickly regained consciousness only to find himself tightly bound, secured to the wheelchair, speeding down the hallway.

Initially, Palmer couldn't comprehend the situation but upon noticing it was Bologue pushing the wheelchair, along with the numerous bags and packs Bologue carried, Palmer realized it didn't bode well.

As Aimou finished packing and joined up with the two, Palmer struggled to nearly stand up, failing to see what was unfolding would be sheer foolishness.

Palmer screamed, "Stop! Something's off! Aren't we on vacation!"

Vasilina emerged from the side, smiling at Palmer, wielding a calendar, with several dates crossed out, today marked with a cute skull.

Aimou whispered, "Vacation's over~"

Palmer froze for a moment, then threw his head back, screaming at Bologue behind him, "I'm injured now! Shouldn't I recover first before returning to work?"

"Compared to the medical techniques at Border Sanatorium, Fortress of the Morning Wind is quite inferior," Bologue thoughtfully replied, "Don't worry, according to Geoffrey's call, people from the Border Sanatorium are already waiting for us at the Order Bureau. When you arrive, you'll be transferred for hospitalization."

Bologue assessed Palmer's seemingly dreadful yet not life-threatening injuries, "With their techniques, you can probably be discharged the day after tomorrow."

"Hey hey hey! Are you guys out of your minds!"

Palmer vigorously contorted his body, even to the point his eyes began to spark, a gust fleetingly supported Palmer's body.

To evade work, Palmer made a desperate leap forward, and then... found himself suspended in mid-air.

Coarse panting sound arose, moist saliva scoured across Palmer's face.

Leica clamped onto Palmer with its mouth, wagging its tail vigorously, appearing quite pleased, as if rescuing Palmer from an imminent fall.

Palmer was shoved back onto the wheelchair again, Bologue continued to push him expressionlessly, with a procession of people and dogs following behind to see them off.

"Ah... It's hopeless now."

Palmer slumped, as if surrendering to despair, his eyes dimly fixed on the ground.

At the corridor's end, a person waited there for a long time, arms folded, leaned subtly against the wall, wearing a smile. When seeing Palmer arrive, he neither blocked the way nor said anything, merely raised his hand, giving a few simple waves in farewell.

Palmer noticed the fellow and, linking to his current predicament, Palmer's expression gradually started to unravel.

"You..."

Palmer raised his plaster-cast hand, trembling as he pointed at Fuen. As his arm lifted, the line of writing Fuen had left on the cast came into view.

This situation, so ironic.

Fuen watched Palmer, "See you next time, son."

Palmer cursed unreservedly, "Bastard!"

As soon as he returned, he was schemed against by Fuen. Now that the matter was over, he was no longer of any use, and Fuen just kicked him aside!

Indeed, after all this time apart, Palmer still couldn't stand his scoundrel of a father.

Fuen was extremely pleased that Palmer was leaving; he even whistled, further provoking Palmer.

Palmer, other than continuing to curse, did nothing. After a series of lively exchanges, Bologue pushed the wheelchair, taking Palmer to the place they came from initially.

The Curved Path Gate stood atop the High Tower. Once they crossed through this gate, they could return to the Transfer Station, and then back to the Order Bureau.

The chilly wind swept by, and Palmer took a deep breath, trying to capture the scent of the Wind Source Highlands, knowing that there was no telling when he might return next.

The Field Operations Department's workload was ridiculously intense. Even if there were no tasks, they still had to patrol daily.

Random thoughts gradually faded from his mind as a faint glow began to swirl around the Curved Path Gate. Palmer felt a sense of relief; the farewell sadness he had anticipated didn't appear.

After the confession that night, Palmer felt his mindset had changed considerably. He was gradually overcoming his shortcomings and might one day truly face everything calmly.

Leica seemed to know Palmer was leaving again. It lowered its head and vigorously licked Palmer's face. In its urgency to express its excitement, its tail whipped back and forth like a whip, and Leica even bit Palmer's head, swallowing half of his body in the process.

"Ugh!"

Palmer kicked desperately. Seeing the situation was critical, Aimou grabbed Palmer's legs and yanked him out.

Despite its delicate appearance, the Alchemy Puppet's strength was incredible. In an instant, Palmer felt like he was about to be torn apart, his upper and lower body about to say farewell.

"Palmer is going to die!"

Vasilina was on the side, fiercely patting Leica. Her gentle caress hit like a heavy punch. The dog gasped for air, and as it spat out Palmer, it sneezed repeatedly, spraying him with glittering droplets like a shotgun blast.

Seeing Palmer in such a state, Bologue no longer wanted to push his wheelchair.

Aimou and Vasilina hugged tightly, and Bologue also patted Leica's head. Seeing such a large dog, Bologue still felt a bit dazed and considered whether he should get a similar pet.

When it came time to say goodbye to Palmer, in fact, only Vasilina needed to actually bid him farewell.

Vasilina frowned, her lips pursed and cheeks slightly puffed. Like Bologue, seeing Palmer in such a state, she didn't want any intimate gestures with him.

The atmosphere had reached this point; they couldn't exactly drag Palmer back for a bath and start the process over.

Vasilina leaned close to Palmer and whispered, "Not bad, Palmer."

"Not bad in what way?"

A gooey, wet sensation spread all over him, and Palmer felt entirely deflated.

"Compared to your past self, you've undoubtedly grown quite a bit."

Vasilina raised her hand to her ear, making a phone gesture to Palmer.

"Good luck."

She kicked the wheelchair, spinning Palmer several times in place.

In the rapid spin, Palmer only felt his stomach churn, and a nauseating feeling rose from his throat.

Just as he was about to lean forward and let it out, leaving his last mark on the Wind Source Highlands, Vasilina kicked the wheelchair again.

"See you next time!"

With Vasilina's cheerful voice, the wheelchair accelerated to top speed in a split second, the rush of adrenaline pinning Palmer tightly to the backrest. Then, both he and the chair sped directly into the open Curved Path Gate.

Neat and swift, without the slightest unnecessary delay.

After sending off Palmer, Vasilina turned to Bologue and Aimou, then bowed to thank them.

"Well then, please take good care of Palmer."

Bologue and Aimou simultaneously raised their left hands, giving a thumbs-up at their chests, then nodded vigorously to show their agreement.

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