Chapter 1371: Mysterious Feast (Complete)_2

Aran began to pace around the room, a gleam in his eyes growing ever brighter, unable to suppress the excitement in his voice, "The Shi'ar Empire surely hopes that this secret does not leak out. Perhaps it can become a card in my hand, but I must tread cautiously or else risk being silenced."

"The dance party... yes, the dance party. Perhaps I could approach the Queen and probe her intentions.... Butler! Is the butler there?! I accidentally broke the vase in the room. Also, can you bring me my prepared suit? I want to check it in advance, to ensure that I don't cause any offense in the presence of the Queen."

The chess board shudders, its glow intensifying once more, the beat of the drums echoing, and the light dancing as if to return to the warm atmosphere at the beginning of the banquet. On the grid of the chess board, pair after pair of dancing shadows came to life amidst the rigid squares.

Lilandra takes a step forward, intending to catch up with Hela, only to find a man has already beaten her to it. She did not see the smirk at the corner of Tony Stark's mouth, only felt boredom as her plans were interrupted.

At this moment, she hears a deep male voice from behind:

"Hello, Your Majesty. May we have a chat?"

Lilandra turns around and sees a blue-skinned man with braided hair standing behind her, smiling at her. The gentleman introduces himself courteously, "Hello, Your Majesty. I am Prince Aran of the Centauri Dodell Federation. May I have a chat with you?"

Before Lilandra could even respond, Aran continues, "Recently, the interstellar media in Centaurus has been smearing the Three Great Empires, claiming that they have set up human experimental sites here. However, in my opinion, this seems to be nothing more than baseless rumors. After all, Your Majesty, I do not believe a person as wise and kind as you would conduct such evil experiments."

Lilandra's mind was not on socializing, she looked around but did not spot Charles amongst the crowd. She, not being a hands-on queen, and indifferent to the political affairs of the Shi'ar Empire, could not understand Aran's insinuation, making the conversation feel even more uninteresting.

"I apologize; my dress is a bit wrinkled, which is highly inappropriate. I may need to go to the restroom to tame it; we can continue our conversation later."

Lilandra gave a perfectly poised smile, turned around, and headed towards the restroom. However, upon reaching the entrance, she finds a sign put up by a butler.

"Oh, Your Majesty, I apologize. A multi-legged race member has just washed their hands and accidentally spilled some water on the floor. We're in the middle of an emergency clean-up; I'm afraid you might have to use the restroom upstairs."

Lilandra looked down at her shoes, then at the water stains in the restroom, her brows furrowing in a slight annoyance. But she turned around and started towards the stairs nevertheless.

Upon reaching the upper floor, Lilandra found that the second floor was particularly quiet. The corridor was farther from the atrium on the first floor, and not many people ventured this way. However, she didn't think much of it and proceeded directly to the restroom at the end of the hallway.

Lilandra didn't actually intend to fix her dress, but seeing a mirror, it was instinctual for a woman to check her appearance. Thus, she stood, examining herself in front of the mirror beside the restroom door, running her hands through the feathers by her temples.

Suddenly, a soft sound echoed into her ears; Lilandra froze for a second, then turned her head towards the source of the sound, the restroom entrance.

However, there was a corner between the vanity and the entrance, which forced Lilandra to take a few steps forward for a better look.

The hallway light shone through the door, creating a sharp angle of brightness on the wall. As soon as Lilandra stepped out, she saw a pitch-black silhouette standing in the bright light casting over from the doorway.

"Ahh... huh..."

"Bang!"

"Arggh!"

As the brightness intensified, the shadows of the chess pieces on the chessboard deepened. One side of the board, full of pieces, stood in contrast to the other, completely empty.

Shiller stood at the barren side of the chessboard, watching as Stark emerged from between the chess pieces, standing beside the central chess piece, a queen, facing Shiller.

"Indeed, it's a master stroke," Shiller chuckled.

"Or perhaps you can call me your copycat, Dr. Shiller. Most of the inspirations for my arrangements came from things you've done," Stark stated frankly.

"Puppeteering all the forces, using people to create scenarios and then using those scenarios to push people forward. Those in the know willingly allow you to manipulate them, and the ignorant also end up exactly where they're supposed to be."

"Like a chess master manipulating the game, you never care about how the pieces feel, only about the perfection of the arrangement."

In the brilliant light of the dance party, Stark spread his hands and looked into Shiller's eyes, "And now that I'm the chess master, do you really think you, without a single piece left, could possibly be a match for me?"

"Who says I don't have a single piece left?"

Stark stared intently into Shiller's eyes, while Shiller began to pace the empty chessboard, his tone modulating as he spoke,

"Puppeteering all the forces, arranging suitable scenarios, ensuring key individuals or items reach their designated locations, then watching the game evolve on its own, finally reaching the desired result in a perfect manner. It is indeed exhilarating."

"But, Tony, I don't remember whether I've told you, but this is just my hobby. My actual job is as a psychiatrist."