"Maria..."

Oedipus frowned slightly, but then smiled with relief.

She had considered crushing the woman's hand in front of her, but Oedipus immediately remembered that Maria had a prosthetic hand.

The arrogant tone of Maria's voice, combined with the contrast of reality, made Oedipus laugh louder and even forget about being angry for a moment.

"You are truly amusing... Maria."

Oedipus lightly tapped Maria's hand, turned meaningfully to her side, and whispered next to her with lowered brows.

"All these things of yours were just leftovers for me to play with."

Feeling puzzled, Maria attempted to do something, but she found that her arm couldn't move.

A drop of cold sweat fell as Maria continuously sent signals to her prosthetic hand, but there was no response.

"Master Oedipus!?"

London hurriedly tried to reach Oedipus but was consistently blocked by Paris, who had arrived alongside her.

"Are you alright, Master?"

"If something happens to Master, I will turn this courtroom into a slaughterhouse!"

London anxiously looked around Oedipus while Paris, unaffected, stood next to Maria with her arms crossed.

"Turing is also the daughter of your superior, but I don't see you caring about Turing."

"I suppose Altria's family is just a bunch of worthless dogs who were neither born nor raised by their mothers."

Paris raised an eyebrow, tilted her head arrogantly, and glanced at London.

"You!"

"Don't be angry, London."

Oedipus spoke in a gentle tone, stopping London who wanted to go on a killing spree.

She playfully glanced at Merka, Turing, and many others who had hurriedly arrived from the Maria faction, and gave a silver bell-like laugh.

"You all are good, much better than I expected."

With mixed feelings in her heart, Maria focused intently on every movement and gesture of Oedipus, including her lips, fearing that the latter might make a move.

She was practically stuck in place by her own mechanical arm, and if a fight broke out now, it would likely not end well for her.

"So, you're called Merka."

"You are interesting."

"Even more interesting than Maria."

"I remember you."

Awkwardly, Maria kept one hand suspended in the air. As more people arrived, they all immediately put on serious expressions upon seeing Maria's poised and threatening posture, and the tension between the two groups grew stronger.

"It's fine, girls. Let's go."

"The old man is just acting up."

Even as Oedipus left, she continued to laugh, surprising her subordinates. Many who knew Oedipus were aware that she never showed her true emotions.

But her smile now was different from her usual restrained and profound one—it was a light and pleasant expression...

A light laughter, as delicate as a young girl's, echoed in the air. Seeing Oedipus and his group finally exiting the courtroom, Merka let out a sigh of relief. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, almost dropping Turing from his arms.

The mental impact caused by facing Oedipus was far more terrifying than he had expected. Merka was grateful that he couldn't clearly see people's appearances with his detection magic alone. Otherwise, he wouldn't have known what horrifying scenes would have washed over his mind.

"Merka..."

A faint whisper reached Merka's ears. He quickly lowered his head to look and realized how terrifying Oedipus' punch had been. Turing's left half of the face and skull had been completely shattered. Terrifying brain matter dripped from his forehead down to his collarbone. The situation was even more exaggerated in his chest, where a large section seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

Turing's exposed lung and other internal organs oozed thick liquid. The fresh blood emitted a nauseating smell of gasoline. His eye-catching heart throbbed desperately within Turing's empty and mangled ribcage, resembling a beautiful pomegranate.

But the most adrenaline-pumping scene was still yet to come. Merka knew that he no longer had the courage to look at Turing's lower body. Streaks of moist, colon-like objects soaked in gleaming blood had already stained Merka's pant legs. There was no doubt that Turing, in this state, had been severed at least halfway.

Disgusting tendrils wriggled out from Turing's wounds like worms, indicating his inhuman nature.

"Don't look at me... Merka."

Turing, with great effort, rested his head against Merka's chest. He struggled to speak despite his broken throat, and after uttering those words, he passed out.