My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 1067: Samuel Ironhart

My consciousness returned gradually. At first there was only darkness.

Then came the sensation of a hard surface beneath me, followed by the faint smell of old wood and something that vaguely resembled alcohol. A moment later distant voices reached my ears before fading away again. Eventually I opened my eyes and stared upward.

A stone ceiling greeted me.

The room itself was surprisingly ordinary. I found myself inside what appeared to be a large stone chamber illuminated by several lanterns hanging from the walls. There were no torture devices. No ominous restraints. No giant arrays trying to suppress my existence.

Just a room and an old man.

The old man sat directly across from me in a wooden chair with one leg casually resting over the other. A bottle sat beside him. So did an empty plate.

Judging by the crumbs scattered across his beard, he had apparently been eating while waiting for me to wake up.

He looked old.

Long white hair fell down his back and had a full beard reaching down to his chest. Deep wrinkles covered his face, but they somehow failed to make him appear frail. His shoulders remained broad. His posture remained straight. Even seated, he gave the impression of a warrior.

He wore simple brown robes beneath a thick dark coat lined with silver embroidery.

The moment he noticed my eyes open, he slapped both hands against his knees and stood.

"Finally."

His voice echoed through the room.

"I was beginning to think I hit you too hard."

I blinked.

"You sound disappointed."

"I am."

The old man pointed toward me.

"I have some questions for you young man."

That seemed fair. I pushed myself upright and looked around.

"No chains?"

The old man snorted.

"Why would I waste chains on somebody who punched six Saints around like training dummies?"

"You appear smart." I commented.

The old man raised an eyebrow before scoffing. Then he dragged another chair across the floor and dropped it directly in front of me before sitting down again.

The chair creaked.

The old man pointed.

"Sit."

I exhaled and sat down. I just wanted to see where this was going. Then he immediately leaned forward.

"Now let’s begin."

I had a feeling this was going to be entertaining.

The old man folded his arms.

"Who are you?"

I smiled.

"That’s your first question?"

"It is."

"I thought you would start with something dramatic."

His eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

I leaned back slightly.

"Honestly?"

"No. Don’t lie to me. That would make this significantly harder."

I couldn’t help laughing. The old man waited. Eventually I shrugged.

"I’m pretty famous around the Prime Territory, specifically region 3."

The room became silent. The old man stared at me.

I stared back.

Then he frowned.

"I have no idea who you are."

"That’s surprising."

"Should it be?"

"It should."

The old man rubbed his forehead.

"I see."

"What?"

"You are one of those."

"One of what?"

"People who think everyone knows who they are."

I looked offended.

"I am actually famous."

The old man waved dismissively.

"If that’s true, we’ll find out soon enough."

Then he immediately moved on.

"How did you find this settlement?"

The question came immediately after a brief silence. Unlike the earlier questions, he didn’t sound annoyed or merely curious. There was actual weight behind this one.

"Well..." I paused as though genuinely considering the question before continuing. "A wise old man showed me the way. He told me all my answers would be here. All I had to do was follow his guidance, so I did."

"A wise old man?" His eyes narrowed immediately. "Is this wise old man actually real, or is he just a fragment of your imagination?"

I smiled.

"If he was just my imagination, I wouldn’t have found your settlement and beaten your asses."

"Beaten?" The old man barked out a loud laugh. The sound echoed through the prison chamber before he shook his head.

"If that’s your assessment of what happened, then I am seriously disappointed in you."

He leaned forward and pointed directly at me.

"Did you not notice that none of us used a single life-threatening attack? The first group that fought you were practically children by our standards."

He snorted.

"And the second group was under strict orders to capture you alive. If they had been ordered to kill, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

"Oh really?" I slowly clapped my hands. "Six Saints going all out against a man who couldn’t access his soul force. Truly inspiring. The Ironharts must be legendary warriors."

For a brief moment the old man’s expression froze. Then something changed. The amusement disappeared. His eyes began shining with a sharp light as his mind visibly started piecing things together.

"Yes..." he muttered.

The word wasn’t directed at me. It was directed at himself.

"The question is how."

His gaze locked onto me.

"A living man physically stronger than six Saints shouldn’t exist. That isn’t normal. That isn’t even remotely reasonable."

I opened my mouth. He ignored me completely.

"I checked your soul already. You’re not an Eternal."

His pacing began almost immediately. One moment he was standing before me. The next he was walking circles around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Which means it has to be something else."

The old man continued muttering.

"The Warden?"

He stopped.

"No. That doesn’t make sense."

Then he started pacing again.

"We’ve never done anything against him. Why would he suddenly get involved?"

I blinked. The man had apparently started conducting an entire investigation by himself.

"Or maybe..." he muttered.

Then suddenly he froze. His head snapped toward me. This time there was genuine anger in his eyes.

"Is he after—"

The sentence stopped midway. I immediately took a step backward.

"Old man. Can you stop your brain from running off a cliff for five seconds?"

That finally seemed to break whatever train of thought he was following. I sighed.

"How about we start with something simple? You tell me who you are first."

For several seconds he simply looked at me. Then he folded his arms.

"I am Samuel Ironhart."

I nodded.

Then I pointed toward myself.

"I am Billion Ironhart."

The reaction was immediate. Samuel’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. The expression lasted less than a second, but it was there.

I caught it. Unfortunately, he recovered almost instantly.

The surprise vanished. The anger returned. In fact, it returned stronger than before.

"Do I look stupid to you?"

I blinked.

"Depends."

His eyebrow twitched.

"Do you honestly think it’s that easy to fool us?"

Before I could answer, Samuel vanished. There was no warning. One moment he stood several meters away.

The next he was directly in front of me. His fist shot toward my stomach like a cannonball. The speed would’ve caught most people completely off guard. Unfortunately for him, I saw it clearly.

My own fist moved without hesitation.

BOOM!!

The collision sent a violent shockwave through the prison chamber. The wooden table between us exploded into splinters. Samuel’s body slid backward several steps before he managed to stop himself.

Meanwhile, I remained exactly where I stood.

Silence filled the room.

For a few moments neither of us moved. Then I slowly lowered my arm.

"You should be careful with those old bones, old man."

A grin spread across my face.

"I’d hate for you to break a hip during an interrogation. Also, are you crazy or what? Why would you suddenly attack me?"