A "Recruitment" from the Whip of Order

Wutong Street was the administrative heart of York City, where the headquarters of most government departments in the Kingdom of Vien were located. When foreign newspapers ran reports, they often liked to refer to the Kingdom of Vien's official stance as "the attitude of Wutong Street." Alfred first located the police department, looped around it, and pulled up before a historic building standing behind it. "Young Master, we've arrived." "Mm." Karen peered through the car window. Security personnel were patrolling in rows before the entrance, which was hardly unusual for Wutong Street. Before getting out of the car, Karen glanced once more at the business card: Neo Romen. His title was Clerk under the Third Office, Seventh Group, Third Department of the Regional Administrative Office. "Alfred, I suspect that deputy director..." "There's an issue with the deputy director?" "No, the clerk beside him. I didn't pick up on it at first, but on the drive here, it started dawning on me. Viclay's willingness to silence me at the cost of ten thousand Order coupons and arranging a promotion wasn't just because he worried I would keep filing reports and appeals up the chain like Mr. Pavaro used to do. There had to be other objective factors as well. He specifically instructed me that if anyone came to verify the facts, I needed to stick to the case description in the official letter he gave me. Yet this Deputy Director Mi'ang acted far too casually, as if he had a sign plastered on his forehead announcing that he'd only made the trip to curry favor with Viclay. Now, the promotion is done, the reward has been granted, and I've confirmed the contents of the official letter giving Viclay credit. It looks as though the matter has simply concluded. So whatever inspection Viclay was genuinely worried about could only be found within this narrow scope. Between the two of them, if it wasn't the deputy director, it could very well be the clerk beside him. That certainly fits the Whip of Order's style." "Then, Young Master, once you obtain your identity credentials here and go to find this clerk, you must be very careful." "He has no reason to be interested in me; he hasn't even seen me before. We'll just proceed with caution. Give me the briefcase." "Here, Young Master." Alfred handed Karen a briefcase containing Karen's documents—a "fake identity" created for him by the Allen family: a native of York City, Vien, raised in an orphanage, named Karen Silva. At the time, the Allen family had intended to use this "identity" to arrange Karen's entry into the Church of Order. Boge had even called specifically to ask about Karen's preferences for a name. Karen had been working at the clinic when Bertha casually picked the surname "Silva" for him, so he had simply replied to the Allen family to use that surname. As for the name "Karen," because it was common and shared by many people, Karen decided to keep it. After all, taking too many fake names was like setting up a bunch of different passwords—sometimes, instead of fooling others, you only ended up confusing yourself first. In addition, the briefcase contained a letter of introduction from "Mr. Pavaro"—written, of course, by Karen to himself. "I'm heading in." "Young Master, I'll wait for you here." Karen got out of the car, ascended the steps, and walked into the building. The interior was spacious, featuring an information desk staffed by seven or eight attractive young women in black uniforms. As Karen walked over, the receptionist directly opposite him was nudged aside by the woman beside her, who smiled warmly and asked: "Hello, sir, how may I help you?" Karen knew this was treatment he could never enjoy while wearing Mr. Pavaro's mask. "Hello, I'm here to process my identity credentials." "Certainly, please follow me." The receptionist stepped out enthusiastically and led Karen into the hall to a service window. "Right here is fine." "Thank you." "You're very welcome." A middle-aged man sat inside the window, his eyes glued to the receptionist. He gave Karen a perfunctory wave and asked: "What kind of credentials are you processing?" "God's Servant." The middle-aged man froze for a moment, finally looking up at Karen. "That's not handled here. You need to go to the second floor." "Thank you." Karen got up, and the receptionist said with an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry, I didn't clarify your needs first." "No, I wasn't clear." "You can take the stairs over there to the second floor. I'm not permitted to accompany you up, my lord." "All right, thank you." Karen carried the briefcase up to the second floor. A detail of security personnel stood at the entrance to the second floor, but no one stopped to inspect Karen, so he walked straight through. In the second-floor hall, while most people were still dressed in suits and leather shoes, quite a few priests wearing various standard clerical robes had already appeared. There was an information desk here as well, staffed likewise by pretty young women, but they all wore black clerical robes. From their insignias, they could be identified as a group of God's Servants. When Karen approached, the receptionist facing him said: "Praise Order." Ah, that's the familiar flavor. Karen immediately responded, "Praise Order." "Hello, how may I help you?" "I'm here to process God's Servant identity credentials." "Certainly. Do you have a letter of introduction?" "I do." "Understood. What is the rank of your introducer?" "Inquisitor Mr. Pavaro of Blue Bridge Community." "Very well, please follow me." Karen followed the receptionist further inside. There were many service windows. The longest line was for those who had spontaneously awakened as God's Servants; the next longest was for those with a guide. Because Karen held an Inquisitor's letter of introduction, he could queue directly at the innermost windows where almost no one was waiting. Just as he reached them, the person ahead finished their business and vacated the spot. Sitting down in front of the window, he found the middle-aged man inside unlike the one downstairs—he looked very solemn, dressed in black clerical robes: "Identification documents, letter of introduction." Karen opened his briefcase, took out the relevant documents, placed Neo's business card right on top, and slid them through. The man looked closely at the business card, then skimmed through the documents and began filling out an information card for Karen. Once it was filled, he attached a slip of red paper to it and handed it to Karen: "Sir, head over there for the assessment. Show them this side." With that, he even gave Karen a smile. "Thank you." Karen pointed to the documents inside. "Oh, the background dossier still takes a little time. I'll fill it out as quickly as possible here. By the time you finish your assessment and come back, it should be just about ready." "All right, thank you." Karen rose and headed for the assessment area. There was a long line, but Karen followed instructions and held the side with the red slip facing forward. Soon, a staff member came over and gestured for Karen to enter an inner room. It was the size of a standard office, yet it looked quite empty, with only a crystal ball levitating in the center and a white-haired elder wearing reading glasses seated in a chair. With a wave of the elder's hand, the information card in Karen's grip flew into his grasp. Without even looking up, he said: "Step forward and place your hand on the resonance orb." "Okay." The whole process, from earlier up to entering this room, felt like taking a physical exam. Now, Karen faced a problem: he couldn't let his test results look too healthy. Even Purr hadn't anticipated that Karen's progress would be so rapid. Originally, the plan was just to become a God's Servant and exploit loopholes to secure a Church of Order identity. Yet Karen had skipped ranks consecutively, from God's Revelation to God's Shepherd, to the point that now, only a sheet of paper stood between him and Inquisitor—and that was only because he had deliberately refrained from piercing it in his pursuit of perfection. After all, a "wild" God's Servant wasn't all that rare. Growing wildly into God's Revelation, however, would draw serious attention, as it signified extraordinary talent. Under normal circumstances, an ordinary person with a clean background who had no ties to church families and received divine revelation in society to reach God's Revelation would be cultivated with high priority once they officially entered the church hierarchy. Because, to a large extent, it meant that the God of Order favored you with extra grace. Karen's situation was even more exaggerated. But he didn't want that kind of exaggeration. So while others placed their hands on the crystal ball wondering how to maximally stimulate the spirituality within them to make the crystal ball display a richer hue, Karen chanted silently in his heart: *A little bit. Just a tiny bit. Definitely not too much.* Then Karen exerted strict control, releasing only a meager wisp of spirituality. Sure enough, the crystal ball didn't burst with dazzling light; only a tiny black speck of light appeared inside, just enough to show something was there. "God's Servant," the elder said, looking up at Karen with a smile. "Yet the clarity is very pure. You must be filled with deep piety toward the God of Order." "Yes, indeed." Karen placed both hands over his chest. "Praise the great God of Order." With a flick of the elder's finger, the information card flew back into Karen's hand. He then waved Karen off, indicating he could leave. Karen walked out holding the card, which now bore a stamped seal. Returning to the earlier window, Karen saw the clerk rapidly stamping documents. As he drew near, Karen noticed a seal confirming his background verification. This was supposed to have been issued by the church and verified through the police department, but that entire step had been bypassed. "Phew..." "All set, sir. Here are your original documents. This dossier is your current file, containing your God's Servant certificate and church papers. I've retained the archived copies. Please take them." "Thank you." Karen sorted the stack of documents into his briefcase. In the middle of doing so, he noticed a long hair on his cuff—likely from one of the earlier receptionists—and casually wound it around the button of his document folder a few times. "I presume you don't need a reassignment?" "Right, no need." "Understood. If you need to transfer the file now, you'd better hurry. Otherwise, it will be sent to the archives, and transferring it later will take about a week. The people in the archives complain every day about their workload, but personally, I think they're just too lazy. If you complete the transfer today, the file can be pulled directly." "Thank you for the tip." "Don't mention it, just doing my job." It was like job assignment: those with connections could choose for themselves, while those without had to settle for random allocation. Carrying his briefcase, Karen returned to the information desk and handed the business card to the receptionist who had guided him earlier: "Excuse me, which floor is this on?" "Sir, please take the elevator over there. It's on the twenty-fourth floor." "All right, thank you." Karen waited by the elevator. Before long, the doors opened to reveal an attendant inside, who asked each passenger for their destination floor. Stopping and starting along the way, they finally arrived at the twenty-fourth floor. Karen followed the signage, looking for the Third Office of the Seventh Group, Third Department. Found it. It was tucked in a corner of the office area. Karen knocked. "Come in." Pushing the door open, Karen saw a plump man whose desk sat right beside the entrance. Generally, only people pushed to the sidelines were relegated to such a spot. "Hello, I'm here to see Mr. Neo." "Neo! Neo!" the plump man bellowed. Soon, Neo emerged from within. "Someone looking for me?" "Hello, Mr. Neo. Inquisitor Pavaro sent me to see you. I have already processed my God's Servant certificate." "So fast? Good heavens, I just got back myself, haha." "Mr. Pavaro told me to make haste." "Yes, yes, yes, Mr. Pavaro is indeed an impatient man." Neo reached out, clasped Karen by the shoulder, and told the plump man by the door, "I'm going to help him transfer his file. If the director gets back and looks for me, let him know." "Sure." Neo led Karen out of the office area and straight toward the rear. Soon, the surroundings grew deeper and quieter, until a restroom appeared before Karen. "I'm going to relieve myself first. Do you need to?" Neo asked. "No need." Karen shook his head. "All right, wait a moment." Neo went inside. A few minutes later, he came out wiping his hands with a paper towel, pointing forward to signal Karen to follow. Karen continued following him to a private elevator. The doors opened, revealing an elevator attendant inside as well. Neo showed his credentials and stepped in; Karen followed suit. The elevator ascended and stopped at the thirty-second floor. However, the doors that opened weren't the front ones, but the rear. Neo stepped out, and Karen followed behind him. Much like a private elevator foyer leading into an exclusive residence, this was an isolated space of its own. Neo slipped off his coat, tossed it onto the sofa, and took a seat behind the desk. At this moment, the aura about him shifted. He was no longer a timid, cautious clerk, but looked much more like a department chief wielding substantial authority. "Do you know of the Whip of Order?" Neo asked Karen. "I do." "Tell me your understanding of the Whip of Order." "The Whip of Order exists to wipe away the dust on Order." "Mm, well understood. When you return, have Mr. Pavaro submit a supplementary transfer request, and I'll officially assign your post under the Pavaro Inquisitor Office in Blue Bridge Community. But right now, I have another proposal. Care to hear it?" "I would." "You've probably guessed by now. Do you want to join the Whip of Order? Just answer yes or no." "Yes." "Good." Neo pressed a desk bell, and a woman in black clerical robes walked in. "Hand your file over to her. It will be returned shortly." "Understood." Karen handed over his document folder, and she carried it back into the room she had emerged from. "Oh, right, I haven't asked your name yet." "Karen Silva." "Good. I'll just call you Karen, then. You may address me as... Captain." "Yes, Captain." "What is your relationship with Inquisitor Pavaro? Are the two of you very close?" "Not close." "Then why did he recommend you?" "I don't know." Neo nodded and chuckled. "I imagine there must be something about you he appreciated." Karen also nodded with a look of bemusement. Thanks to Mr. Pavaro's established persona, many things became remarkably simple. "Here's how it works: in five minutes, you will become an external member of our Whip of Order squad. When nothing is happening, you will submit a monthly work report. The method for reporting will be provided shortly. You must keep your identity as secret as possible. Understood?" "Yes, I understand." "If anything comes up, we will summon you to assemble—though normally, nothing will happen. In addition, you will receive an extra monthly allowance of one hundred Order coupons, just like your God's Servant stipend. For secrecy's sake, you must come to me personally to collect it." "All right." "Mm." Neo nodded and continued, "A lot of things happened in Blue Bridge Community recently, dragging many people into the mess. Some ended up dead; others went to prison. There are quite a few vacant posts now. Work hard, and your future will be assured." "Yes, Captain." "You're easier to talk to than Inquisitor Pavaro. I hope you can become an upright person like Mr. Pavaro as well." "I will, Captain!" "Good." Before long, the door opened again. The robed woman handed Karen his original document folder, followed by a gray document folder. Neo stood up and said to Karen: "Wielding the whip is for Order!" Karen immediately responded with a straight face, "For Order!" "All right, you may go," Neo said. "Yes, Captain." Karen walked to the exit—or rather, the elevator—and pressed the button. Moments later, the doors opened. Karen stepped inside, and the attendant pressed the floor button for him. When the elevator doors opened and Karen stepped out, he found himself back on the ground floor. He exited the building, got into Alfred's car, and Alfred drove off. Karen opened the gray folder. It had felt thin in his hands earlier, and sure enough, inside lay only a single sheet of paper with contact information, along with a gray badge stamped with the image of a leather whip. Was it really that simple? No—was it really that slapdash? Karen picked up his own document folder and unthreaded the string from the button, discovering that the hair he had casually wound around it was still in place. This meant that after the woman had taken his folder into the back room, she hadn't opened it at all. She had simply sat inside for a bit, perhaps having a cup of tea or coffee, and then handed him this folder—she might even have a whole stack of these gray folders sitting on her desk. So he wasn't really any sort of external member of a Whip of Order squad at all; he was at most an informant for the Whip of Order. No, not even an informant, since an allowance of just one hundred Order coupons a month had to be collected from Neo in person. All that had actually ended up in his hands was this ring bearing the whip emblem? Karen picked up the ring and examined it closely. Perhaps because he applied just a little too much pressure with his fingers, the ring suddenly split right down the middle with a sharp *snap*. "It's even made of plastic..."