Chapter 1348
Is this place the command center?
"Thanks for your hard work."
When Lindis saw Cui Ming return, she pressed him down into a chair.
"Let me check on your condition."
Cui Ming leaned back in his chair and waved his hand: "Uh, I'm fine. I was just angry. That guy was jumping in my face."
"Alright, alright, let me take a good look at you. Don't forget, I'm your therapist."
There was a moment of silence in the command room, followed by a burst of suppressed whispers.
"????" *N
What the hell?
Can psychologists marry their patients?
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes darting back and forth between Cui Ming and Lindis, their expressions as strange as if they were watching some absurd drama.
They knew about the relationship between the two of them, of course, but when Lindis reminded them so seriously, they suddenly realized the absurdity of the logic—a madman who used steel coils as dumbbells all day, tore apostles to pieces, and chased monsters all over the world, had his bedmate actually be his psychiatrist.
No one believed that Choi Myung wasn't mentally ill...
After all, the things Cui Ming did... it would be strange if they were normal.
He can lift industrial steel coils weighing several tons overhead and do squats, and he can transform into a silver giant to slice otherworlders and apostles into pieces. But these are nothing compared to what he's capable of.
Putting aside the fact that he could scare the ancient monster Gomora into digging a hole to escape, and that Cui Ming could install a high-pressure water gun in a water dispenser to defend against assassins—if this kind of guy could pass a psychological evaluation, then mental hospitals all over the world could close down.
Cui Ming frowned at the strange looks around him: "What are you looking at? My emotions are perfectly stable."
“Stable?” Lyndis raised an eyebrow, reached out and patted his shoulder, her tone slightly mocking. “Stable enough to have just torn an Apostle apart? Stable enough to have almost deformed the control stick in the cockpit? Mr. Cui Ming, is your standard of ‘stability’ a little different from the norm?”
Cui Ming opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that he really couldn't deny it.
A few suppressed chuckles rang out in the command room, but were quickly suppressed.
Everyone has been quite worried about Cui Ming's mental health issues.
In the command center, the technicians exchanged glances, their fingers tapping on the keyboards more slowly than usual. They watched the man sitting in the head seat, head down, reviewing an operational report, his expression as calm as if he were looking at a supermarket shopping list. But everyone knew that something was hidden beneath that calm.
why?
Of course, it's because Cui Ming's usual actions are too outrageous!
Putting everything else aside, the fact that they transformed the entire NERV into an underground battle fortress is pretty outrageous...
Automatic tracking turrets were embedded in the corners of the corridors, sensor-activated machine guns were hidden in the ceiling vents, high-voltage stun guns were installed in the gaps of the elevator doors, and even weapon interfaces were provided behind the decorative paintings in the lounges. The entire base had been renovated inside and out, and every inch of the wall could be a deadly barrage of fire at any moment. Employees had to undergo three identity verification checks every day to get to and from get off work, and the density of surveillance cameras in the corridors was outrageously high.
There are gun emplacements everywhere!
When a young employee first reported to headquarters, he was so startled by the sudden rotation of a cannon barrel in the corner that he fell to the ground. The veteran employees, on the other hand, had learned to walk close to the walls, afraid that any sudden movement would trigger a false alarm. The chairs in the canteen had been replaced with bulletproof materials, miniature sensors had been installed above the toilet stalls, and two heavy-duty firing platforms were positioned at the entrance to the command room—now called the control room—so that anyone who approached within ten meters without permission would theoretically be riddled with bullets.
Holy crap!!!
"Commander, just how insecure are you?!" No one dared say such a thing to Cui Ming's face, but similar complaints arose one after another in the break room, the lounge, and the bar after get off work. Everyone complained that working every day felt like being in a military restricted area, but they also had to admit that since the renovation, not even a fly could get in, let alone an assassin.
Oh right, Rokubungi Gendo is the commander...
Someone suddenly mentioned the name, their tone tinged with a sense of disorientation. The former commander, his body wrapped in bandages, his legs pierced with steel nails, walking like a puppet, seemed to have become a distant symbol. He would occasionally appear in the corridor, dragging his stiff legs with a thumping sound, but no one stopped to salute him, no one looked up at him.
But never mind, everyone's more used to Commander Choi Myung now.
At least this commander, despite his questionable mental state, despite turning the entire base into an iron hedgehog, and despite going into berserk mode at the sight of insects, would stand in front of everyone. He personally went to the battlefield, he personally tore apart the Apostles, he shouldered the danger himself instead of hiding in the shadows and using children as bargaining chips. Looking at the figure at the head of the table, head down, engrossed in documents, the staff's initial complaints about the turrets unconsciously transformed into a sense of reassuring security.
Cui Ming raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the command room, his brows furrowing slightly: "What are you looking at? Work."
Everyone lowered their heads in unison, and the sound of keyboard typing instantly intensified.
At that moment, everyone subconsciously forgot about a certain person... Rokubungi Gendo...
As for where he is now...
"Help!!!! The toilet door is broken!!! Help!!!!"
The sound was shrill and distorted, echoing in the corridor, but was mostly muffled by the heavy metal door, leaving only intermittent sobs, like a stray cat stuck in a ventilation duct.
Yes, he was gloriously forgotten...
Rokubungi Gendo slumped in the toilet stall, his left leg, riddled with steel nails, stretched stiffly out through the gap in the door, like a welded iron rod, impossible to bend. He had tried to stand up, but his stiff knee had slammed into the door, making the entire stall shake. He tried to pull his leg back, but the steel plates and nails held the bone in place, causing excruciating pain with the slightest movement, and cold sweat streamed down his bandages.
"Open the door! What's wrong with this broken door?! Someone help!!!"
He pounded on the door, his palms thumping against the metal with dull thuds. After a few thuds, his palms turned red and burned. He looked down at his predicament—his uniform trousers were still stained with the alcohol that the medic had splashed on them earlier, the fabric at his knees was taut from stiffness, and his shoes were stuck in the gap at the bottom of the door, unable to budge an inch.
Two technicians were passing by in the hallway outside, carrying coffee.
"What's that sound?" The younger one stopped and listened intently.
“Ventilation ducts, I suppose,” the older one said without looking up, continuing to walk forward. “This base is full of traps set up by Mr. Cui Ming, and there are strange noises every now and then, but you get used to it.”
"Too……"
The two walked further and further away, their footsteps fading into the corridor. (End of Chapter)