Maybe it was because he realized there were still other people around, but David Clark finally began to regain his usual cheerfulness. At least it was better than the previous chaos, so perhaps he was just really thick-skinned.

From the computer, David Clark discovered the entire structure of the laboratory. In fact, this laboratory was more like a research building—extremely large. The original structure had seven floors: four above ground and three underground. The four above-ground floors were just empty shells, seemingly only for cover. After eight hundred years, those four floors had completely collapsed, but the remaining three underground floors, which had been built especially sturdy for long-term preservation, were completely intact and had survived unscathed.

The property of this research building was under his father's name, but he had no idea when it was built. It was located at the border between Outer Mongolia and Russia, a private estate.

David Clark also discovered that many guns and ammunition were stored in these three floors. Although more than eight hundred years had passed, because they had been deliberately stored with care, they were still usable. It seemed his father had wanted to leave him some tools.

David Clark used the main computer to restore the building's power supply, then took the elevator to the hall on the same floor where the group of people was gathered. By now, he already had a plan in mind.

That group of people was nervously sitting scattered around the hall. In fact, the so-called hall was just a space with a few broken walls. When they suddenly heard a sound from behind, they all drew their weapons and aimed at the rusty iron door by the elevator.

"Ah? Who are you people?" Even he admired himself for acting so well. David Clark thought dizzily.

A tall man stepped out from the group, apparently their leader. He said, "I am the head of the Order of Light, one of the three great knight orders of the Kingdom of Kagel, William Scott. May I ask who you are?"

Huh? The head? That can't be right—the age doesn't match. The other party looked to be under thirty. How could he be the head?

"This is my home. Why are you here?" David Clark's plan was to never admit to anything, no matter what. Geez! It's hard to tell if he's an idiot or a genius, or just so thick-skinned that he could come up with such an idea.

The group was dumbfounded. Huh? Your home? But this is an ancient ruin! "Are you a hermit who has lived here for generations?" William Scott asked. In fact, there were many hermits on the continent, and their abilities were renowned.

A hermit—well, that wasn't wrong. He had been hidden away for eight hundred years already. "Yes, I've always lived here."

Hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. He probably wasn't one of those people from outside, at least he came from inside.

"Young man, where are your parents?" If he was a hermit, maybe they could use his help to break out. Otherwise, how could they guarantee the princess's safety? William Scott thought to himself, unconsciously glancing at the person sitting alone on the other side.

David Clark was actually seventeen, not that young, but his handsome baby face made him look much younger. Also, it seemed he liked to act younger than he was (hmm... geez!).

"My parents passed away a long time ago. I'm all alone here. I haven't seen anyone in ages!" That's right—he had been here for over eight hundred years, and his parents had died more than eight hundred years ago. He wasn't lying.

William Scott looked at the boy in front of him, unable to tell if he was telling the truth. But his eyes didn't waver, so it probably wasn't a lie. Still, he was carrying a heavy responsibility and couldn't take risks. But this boy—should he just leave him here alone, or take him away? But right now, he could barely protect himself, let alone help someone else.

While William Scott was deep in thought, David Clark seemed to guess what he was thinking and said, "I'm actually very smart! My parents taught me everything they knew. Do you have any problems? I can help."

William Scott glanced at the others, who all seemed at a loss, so he said, "Young man, come sit down and let's talk." With that, he sat down first, and seeing this, the others also sat down.

Once everyone was seated, William Scott asked, "Young man, may I ask your parents' names? And what should we call you? Would you mind telling us?"

David Clark didn't hide anything and told them his mother's name, Grace Evans, his father's name, Brian Clark, and his own, David Clark. After all, no one would recognize them anyway.

"You said earlier that your parents taught you everything they knew?" He looked too young—even if he had learned something, he probably couldn't use it. But then again, you can't judge a book by its cover.

Only now did David Clark take a good look at these people. This William Scott, though very tall—probably about 1.9 meters—had the refined, scholarly air of a gentleman, combined with a unique melancholy in his eyes that would definitely attract women. If he had lived in David Clark's era, ha, another superstar would have been born.

As for the others, most were ordinary soldiers, nothing unusual. The only exception was a short person sitting on the other side, face covered with a black veil—wait, no, it seemed to be a woman.

"Yes, I'm very smart. Is there a problem?" David Clark's words were childish, which left William Scott and the others at a loss again, glancing at each other.