There was a short break. In the heavily guarded room, Ye Qingxuan sat across from Maxwell, neither speaking. After a long time of looking, Ye Qingxuan asked, "Michel…why did he do that?"
"Perhaps he woke up from his dream," Maxwell said. "He should have understood decades ago when the Inquisition disbanded that the dream was over. He put in everything to extend the dream. Recruiting Colt was a risk. He had wanted to give the Ministry a steroid shot but now it has turned into poison. The Ministry has completely become a joke and will never rise again. He has no other way."
"Actually, he didn't have to do that…"
"For an idealistic person, the scariest thing is realizing the distance between reality and the ideal. This is more painful than falling into hell, isn't it?" Maxwell glanced at him. "I believe you understand this feeling."
Ye Qingxuan remained silent.