An hour later.
Night fell as lights gleamed brightly, filling the heart of Herrom with restless energy. On the giant crystal screens of the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation's studio building—a landmark of the Protos Empire—a grand interview program had just concluded, giving way to on-the-spot interviews.
At this hour, the building appeared even more magnificent. Beams of light from the marquee atop it swept through Herrom's night sky, drawing even more eyes.
A massive crowd had already gathered below the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation building. As if summoned by some shared fervor, they poured in from all directions, gridlocking traffic all around the structure. Excitement and admiration were etched onto every face, their eyes darting toward the glass exit doors for fear of missing that long-awaited figure.
The Herrom Security Department had dispatched additional squads of officers to maintain order. Clearly, the reaction to tonight's interview and the citizens' passion for Luoqi McCarthy had far exceeded their wildest expectations.
At the base of the building, numerous media reporters bustled on the crowd's periphery, holding camera equipment and microphones as they jostled for better vantage points.
The Herrom Broadcasting Corporation's own reporters spared no effort. Right after the program ended, they immediately combed the vicinity for eager citizens to share their thoughts on the prominent political figure—a young, promising politician whose words and actions always seemed to stir intense public reaction.
Those chosen as interviewees could even look up to see their interviews broadcast in real time across the building's giant crystal screens.
This sideshow only hyped the atmosphere further. People could hardly imagine what a spectacular scene it would be the moment that man stepped out of the building.
At the edge of the wide street below the building, Mixiula stood on tiptoe, gazing at the dense sea of people, feeling that there was simply no way to push forward any further.
"Sister, he won't be able to see us later," Mixiula said worriedly.
She knew her sister wanted to see him today—in fact, right this very second.
Otherwise, there was no telling when she would ever get another chance to see such an important figure again.
Love, at times, was as urgent as military intelligence: being a minute late could lose the entire game. If possible, not a single second should be wasted!
Chatter drifted from the crowd now and then. Everyone was speculating on the exact moment this political celebrity would emerge. Some had already aimed their shadow-recording crystals at the exit, terrified of missing the chance to witness what might become a historic moment with their own eyes.
It wasn't just the two of them who wanted to see Luoqi McCarthy; everyone else also yearned for even the briefest interaction with him.
Yet Mixiula knew well that her sister had reasons unlike anyone else's.
The more Mixiula thought about it, the more anxious she grew.
The guards maintained order among the crowd. Their Protos police uniforms looked exceptionally solemn beneath the lights. Though their expressions were grave, they could hardly conceal their curiosity about the man about to appear.
As time trickled by, the crowd's anticipation continued to swell. Everyone waited for that political figure leading the tide of the era to walk out of the building and step into their sight.
Along the outer ring of the crowd, reporters with heavy equipment were even more numerous. Rather than banking on sheer luck to interview Luoqi McCarthy, just snapping a couple of photos for tomorrow's papers would be a win.
Luoqi McCarthy's interview was guaranteed to dominate tomorrow's headlines.
Meanwhile, the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation reporters kept weaving through the crowd, picking out eye-catching citizens to solicit feedback and opinions, searching for voices that represented public sentiment.
Just then, a sharp-eyed reporter from the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation locked onto his target—two young women whose eyes revealed an urgency distinct from ordinary fans.
The reporter quickly strode forward with his cameraman, politely excusing himself as he pushed through the throng until he reached the two girls.
"Good evening, ladies. Could you tell us your thoughts on tonight's high-profile political celebrity?"
The reporter opened the conversation swiftly and deftly, finishing his question before Hyperion and Mixiula could even react.
These two young ladies stood out remarkably by appearance and bearing alone. What was more, they wore the vintage noble-student uniforms of the Protos Royal Magic Academy—putting them squarely as students of Mr. McCarthy's institution.
"I don't have any thoughts," Mixiula answered curtly.
Many people noticed the live broadcast on the building's exterior crystal screens. The interviewed girl's expression was far too stiff, looking as though she were speaking against her true feelings.
An interviewee with such a cold demeanor was an absolute nightmare for a reporter.
However, the reporter from the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation was seasoned and knew how to handle the situation.
Making any comment right now would only embarrass him, so he simply nodded and turned the microphone toward Hyperion, whose expression seemed gentler.
"Then, as students of the Protos Royal Magic Academy, how do you view your headmaster Mr. Luoqi McCarthy's stance on running for office?" the reporter asked with an easy smile.
"...I think it would be better if he didn't run for president," Hyperion replied hesitantly.
Her feelings were already a tangled knot, and being suddenly picked for an interview about Lanqi only threw her mind into utter chaos.
Yet.
Hyperion's soft, quiet voice came across with startling clarity in the restless night air.
In an instant, the surrounding atmosphere shifted.
Her answer seemed to strike a sensitive nerve among the surrounding fans.
The atmosphere of pure adoration and anticipation was replaced by creeping threads of displeasure and hostility. The enthusiastic McCarthy fans nearby all turned their gazes toward them. As the interview broadcast reached the building's giant crystal screens, even the distant crowds waiting for McCarthy's appearance took notice of the young woman on screen.
Some began to jeer, while others started talking amongst themselves.
"Everyone has their own opinions—that's precisely the point of our interviews," the reporter said, sensing the tension and hurriedly trying to defuse it.
Even so, the reporter and his crew had to raise their guard, wary of overly agitated McCarthy fans in the crowd.
"I..."
Hyperion's muddled brain finally snapped back to reality. She realized that given the atmosphere, she had said the wrong thing.
Yet before she could gather her thoughts any further, she felt countless eyes from the sea of people fixating on her.
"Their jewelry... looks like it's from the northern Milford family, doesn't it?"
Only the Milford Territory produced gems of that kind in abundance, and their attire clearly marked them as noble students of the Protos Royal Magic Academy.
"It's hardly surprising that the Milford family would oppose Mr. McCarthy. They've always been old-money northern nobility."
"Are they enemies of Mr. Luoqi McCarthy?"
"Those two are wearing the old-style noble uniforms. Sure enough, they belong to Mr. Luoqi McCarthy's opposition."
Voices rose and fell in quick succession.
A desolate, chilly wind bit at her cold skin.
This terrifying mass of hostility made Hyperion feel, in a single flash, as though she had returned to Ikerite right after her father first vanished.
Nothing had changed.
And deep down, she was still that same girl who, alone in the dead of night, would shiver in terror with tears streaming down her face.
Chapter 375