This special treatment drew more attention from the other passengers.
Some gazes were filled with envy, while others carried a subtle hostility.
The interior design of the craft was imbued with a cold, utilitarian aesthetic.
On the metal panels were densely engraved protective runes, each emitting a faint blue glow.
The seats were made from a living material that could automatically adjust hardness, warm to the touch yet with a disturbing squirming sensation.
About an hour into the smooth flight, the magic crystal communicator beside Ron’s seat suddenly lit up with a blue glow.
"Lecturer Ralph, it’s Victor," the voice of the academic administrator sounded excited through the communicator:
"There’s good news to report.
Your advanced class, with final enrollment numbers reaching 427, we’ve already set up the magic power amplification array."
Victor’s voice was full of reverence:
"Honestly, this enrollment size, your influence... truly unbelievable."
"Additionally, several lecturers from other academies have sent cooperation invitations, hoping to engage in academic exchanges with you.
It seems your reputation in the academic world is no longer restricted to the Crystal Tower."
Ron calmly responded, "I understand, thank you for the notice."
After the communication ended, several nearby researchers who heard the conversation showed increasingly obvious complex emotions.
A young assistant researcher couldn’t help but exclaim:
"427 enrollments... this number is simply incredible; I remember some Associate Professors’ lectures only attracting a few hundred attendees."
"The title of New Star Plan’s second-in-command certainly isn’t just for show," another researcher said acidly:
"With political status, even academic prestige can rise accordingly."
Ron did not partake in the discussion, simply gazing quietly out the window.
Outside the porthole, clouds rolled like waves, and in the distance, those bizarre clouds tainted by abyssal contamination were faintly visible.
"Wizard Ralph, your tea." A slender flight attendant cautiously offered him a beverage.
The attendant looked no older than twenty, but her left arm was fully mechanical, with precise energy circuits engraved on the silver metal surface.
This modification was common among relevant staff at the observation station.
After prolonged exposure to the abyss’s breath, certain bodily transformations were inevitable, replacing them with mechanics being a safer choice.
"Thank you." Ron accepted the teacup, noting the reverent emotion in the attendant’s eyes.
Such expression had become all too familiar to him lately.
In the world of Wizards, power often equated to danger.
.........
As the craft gradually descended, through the porthole, the full view of the Abyssal Observation Station became clearer.
The twisted structures made from living metal looked particularly eerie against the gloomy sky.
When the craft opened the hatch, Ron felt the familiar oppressive air attack once more.
Everything here reminded people they were at the boundary of reality and the abyss, a dangerously dark space ready to devour them at any moment.
After disembarking from the VIP aisle ahead of others, Ron entered the observation station’s entrance to complete the routine checks.
"Ron... apologies, I should address you as Wizard Ralph." After the inspection was finished, a familiar voice sounded from the side.
Wayne, the director, was walking over from the reception desk, trying to squeeze out a smile from his half-petrified face.
But compared to before, both his address and attitude had undergone subtle yet obvious changes.
"Welcome back to the observation station." Wayne’s tone sounded polite yet distant:
"I’ve heard you’re now second-in-command in the New Star Plan, truly... truly commendable."
This excessive politeness made Ron feel uncomfortable.
Before, Wayne was serious but at least treated him as an equal colleague.
Yet now, the deliberate respect only widened the distance between them.
"Director Wayne, just like before would be fine." Ron attempted to ease the awkwardness:
"After all, we’re colleagues..."
"How could that be appropriate?" Wayne waved his hands repeatedly, the petrified cheeks making a faint friction sound due to expression change:
"Your status now is on a different level from us ordinary researchers. And..."
He paused for a moment, his gaze somewhat nuanced:
"I’ve heard you obtained independent research permissions and can report directly to the Tower Master and Professor Yutel.
We small characters can no longer make gestures at you."
Deputy Director Zeli also approached at this time, and her crystal eyeballs flickered ceaselessly:
"Congratulations, Wizard Ralph. To receive the favor of Cassandra Tower Master is an honor we mere mortals can only dream of."
Her voice sounded congratulatory, but the distancing in her tone was clearly audible:
"We were considering recommending you to partake in several key projects, but now it seems unnecessary.
With your status, you can directly apply for whatever research resources you need."
Zeli and Wayne acted extremely courteous, but the meaning of their words was already very obvious.
"You all misunderstand." He attempted to explain:
"My research focus remains in materials analysis and bloodline modulation, not stepping outside the department’s scope..."
"Oh, of course, of course." Wayne nodded repeatedly, but the vigilance in his eyes showed no sign of diminishing:
"If there’s anything you need our cooperation on, feel free to instruct us."
The other researchers also chimed in, each person’s reaction was identical, outwardly respectful yet internally distant.
They had evidently begun to treat Ron as a superior requiring careful handling, rather than a peer with whom they could freely communicate.
In this somewhat awkward atmosphere, hearty laughter suddenly emanated from the other side.
"Haha, I said that the air had a special scent today!"
A rough voice resounded: "Turns out our big shot has returned!"