Meanwhile
Satou's consciousness drifted in that strange space between waking and sleeping, his mind processing the massive influx of information from devouring Merc Assault. In this liminal state, memories that weren't his own began surfacing—fragments of the legendary assassin's experiences playing out like scenes from someone else's life.
The first memory came into focus with crystal clarity.
He saw Merc Assault sitting across from Chronus in what appeared to be a private meeting chamber. The Time Demon Lord's appearance was stable—middle-aged, silver-streaked hair, cold calculating eyes that assessed everything.
Between them on an ornate table lay documents. Satou couldn't read the text directly, but the memory provided context—these were intelligence reports about demon lord activities, territorial movements, weaknesses in defenses.
