Just as Schicksal, Anti-Entropy, and World Serpent had guessed, the so-called Doni Vermillion was a public-opinion fuse Ling Ke had deliberately planted on his side.
He was not a native of the Honkai world at all.
He was one of the game character templates Ling Ke had drawn not long ago.
Ling Ke himself did not understand journalism.
But—
[Game Character Template: Doni Vermillion]
[Source: StarCraft II: Wings of Liberty]
[Character Trait: Health-Bar Mechanic]
[Game Skills: None]
[Background Talents: celebrity news anchor, pressure-resistant, able to lie with a straight face…]
[Profile: top UNN news host of the Terran Dominion, likes peanut butter…]
There was no doubt about it. This little mustached man was a completely ordinary person with no special powers whatsoever.
After all, even if StarCraft wore a sci-fi skin on the outside, that universe still had no shortage of supernatural nonsense. Psionics, for one. Gods too. And without even going that far, gene-enhancement serums were already common across human space.
But this man had none of that.
Nothing.
Still, just as Ling Ke had once said when he drew Ayako Mitsuzuri from Fate—even ordinary people had their moment to shine.
This was that kind of moment.
In StarCraft II: Wings of Liberty, Doni Vermillion was basically a clown. Early on, he spent his time helping whitewash Arcturus Mengsk, the butcher sitting on the Terran throne. Then in the end, his own family died under that man's rule.
After that, he broke.
He lost his elite anchor position, lost his mind, and socially died so thoroughly it was almost impressive.
Honestly, it was a miserable life.
But miserable or not, the man knew how to work the news.
And right now, Ling Ke was very satisfied with the performance of Domination Puppet Doni Vermillion.
Over the past few days, with the support of more than a hundred Domination Puppets specializing in shadow-network warfare and information intrusion, plus Doni's own mouth, he had already gained a frightening level of influence across human civilization on Earth.
He was not the kind of stiff idiot who just threw documents in people's faces and called that reporting.
Every now and then—like today—he would toss out a half-confirmed little "fun story," stir the crowd up, and drag their emotions wherever he wanted them to go.
Of course, to certain people involved, that sort of "fun story" probably was not funny at all.
For example, the victims.
And then there were some others…
Heh.
By now, Ling Ke could already picture the kind of expressions the Anti-Entropy higher-ups would make once that little tale about humanity's number one negotiation saboteur reached them.
"Their faces should be worth seeing."
And the facts turned out exactly the way Ling Ke had imagined.
Over the past few days, every livestream and report hosted by Doni Vermillion had already become required viewing for the upper ranks of all three organizations.
So naturally, none of them missed today's headline about humanity's great master of talking things into collapse.
And after they finished watching that segment—
"..."
Welt said nothing.
Inside the room, Einstein and Tesla, who were standing nearby, did not look much better.
The two of them understood their leader very well.
They knew what kind of man Welt Yang was. He had a sense of justice. A sense of responsibility. He had inherited Joyce's will, and when it came to saving others, he had never hesitated to throw himself into danger.
Though to be fair, Tesla had never liked that part of him.
Still, setting that aside—
both Einstein and Tesla knew that Welt had one flaw in his personality. Usually it was the sort of thing people could laugh off.
This time, though, it had very obviously turned into a problem.
Welt Yang had a hidden chuuni streak.
Yes.
The exact same kind as that little Herrscher of Thunder girl.
And this was not some one-time accident either. Both of them had caught him in private more than once, messing with things that were only one step short of complete social suicide. Poses. Lines. Little bits of roleplay.
Sometimes, even during remote meetings, even in broad daylight, he would close the blackout curtains in his room, sit in front of the screen, and carefully adjust himself until the lenses of his glasses caught the light just right.
There was no question about it.
As already said, under normal circumstances, that side of him would not matter at all.
But now—
"So it was my fault."
After a long silence, that was all Welt said.
Einstein and Tesla both wanted to refute him.
They wanted to comfort him in their own ways—either with dry sarcasm or by opening fire at full volume and cursing some sense back into him.
But in the end, their lips moved once, and nothing came out.
They simply did not know what to say.
Because they knew him too well.
And precisely because they knew him too well, both of them fully believed that, just as Doni Vermillion had implied, a man like Welt—someone with that hidden chuuni streak—really might have gotten too deep into the fight, run hot in the middle of battle, and shouted some dramatic nonsense purely because it sounded right in the moment.
And the outcome of that battle from more than ten years ago had been this—
tens of millions dead in the meteor disaster Sirin caused afterward.
He had, indirectly, widened the scope of her revenge.
Maybe Sirin would have done something like that anyway while fighting Schicksal.
But if they tried to hide behind that now, would that not just be an excuse? A double standard?
To be honest, this time even Ling Ke's side had not thought that far ahead.
Doni Vermillion had only wanted to "liven things up."
They did not even know whether that story was one hundred percent true.
And yet, because Welt and the others were too responsible, too upright—
they took the hit.
Just like that, the three Anti-Entropy higher-ups found themselves forced to face the possibility that those tens of millions of deaths were tied to them too.
And that thought gnawed at every one of them.
Meanwhile—
"The public-opinion storm has already taken shape. From here on, I won't need to waste much more effort on it."
"Next, you'll either be slowly swallowed by this primitive malice, stripped down and chewed apart bit by bit…"
"Or you'll wait until someone lights the right fuse, and the whole pile blows at once."
"Really, I'm looking forward to it. When the people you claim to protect start turning their hatred and hostility on you, how long will that so-called justice and beauty of yours keep holding up?"
"Mmm. A scene like that should be wonderfully dramatic. Very worth watching."
Inside the Theater of Domination, Ling Ke—completely unaware that his casual little move had landed such a clean hit—let the corner of his mouth curl upward.
He still sat alone on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, while several system windows hung open before him.
Inside them were real-time battle feeds from multiple Domination Puppets.
"Several good dishes are already cooking. Since they haven't left the kitchen and reached the table yet, I might as well prepare a few desserts before the meal."
As that thought passed through his mind, Ling Ke's gaze settled on one point on the electronic map.
A city.
Manchester.
At first glance, it looked ordinary.
But Ling Ke remembered very clearly.
That city was the hometown of one of Schicksal's active S-rank Valkyries—
Rita Rossweisse.
And now, when he thought back to that maid who had once dragged him out of hell only to throw him into an even deeper abyss—
"Umbral Rose, ah, Umbral Rose."
"When that bright, splendid rose finally loses its color, will you still be able to keep smiling with that same calm, elegant face as before?"
A cold, shallow smile appeared on Ling Ke's face.
"I'm looking forward to finding out."