Retaliation!

Pushing open the door, they stepped inside. Then, Marlene and Steven both froze. Beneath their feet lay an island in the middle of a lake, carpeted in lush green grass and teeming with blooming flowers. Birds flew across the sky, and fish leaped from the water. An office desk and chair rested on the meadow ahead, with several butterflies fluttering and landing on the desktop. The Whip-Wielder sat on a large boulder by the edge of the island, a cigar pinched in his right hand and a fishing rod held in his left. A gentle breeze brushed past, causing his somewhat loose clerical robe to sway softly. Marlene and Steven exchanged a glance, each seeing a flash of terror in the other's eyes. After a brief hesitation, the two walked forward one after the other and came to a stop behind the Whip-Wielder. Silence. Silence. Silence... The breeze kept blowing, refreshingly cool and pleasant, yet Marlene and Steven stood like students undergoing disciplinary detention. One kept her head bowed to stare at the grass beneath her feet, while the other stared at the glistening light on the lake ahead. Every single second was pure agony. Finally, the silence broke. "Ah, it's been a long time since I felt this relaxed," Foden said with a smile. "I still remember when we were young. Life was actually quite easy back then—not so many burdens, not so many responsibilities, and above all, not so many annoying troubles." In the past, whenever this happened, either Marlene or Steven would immediately pick up the thread and elaborate, letting the Whip-Wielder speak to his heart's content before concluding with pleasant laughter. This time, however, both Marlene and Steven remained silent. Then, soon enough, both of them wondered why the other hadn't spoken up. They cast sidelong glances at each other, tinged with blame. But the window to respond had already passed; speaking up now would only reek of forced guilt. Foden seemed not to notice anything amiss. He silently blew out a smoke ring, looked down at the cigar in his hand, and continued: "Sometimes, I really wonder why I have to live such an exhausting life. I've already reached this position, yet I still have to remain cautious and walk on eggshells before the High Priest. "Without exaggeration, the longer I live, the lowlier I feel. "By the way, do the two of you feel the same way?" Hearing this, Marlene and Steven both dropped to their knees. If failing to respond the first time was due to shock and being caught unprepared by the sudden change of scenery in the office, then failing to answer this time was pure, unadulterated fear. Because the Whip-Wielder's words carried an unmistakable resentment toward the High Priest. As subordinates, even if the Whip-Wielder was genuinely venting his grievances about the High Priest from the bottom of his heart, joining in would only ensure that once his mood stabilized, he would decide you had no right to utter such things. "Steven, you've been following me for a long time, haven't you?" "Yes, Whip-Wielder. Your subordinate has been following you ever since you were a Regional Director." "Mm, it's been that long, huh." Foden pursed his lips. "Actually, I've been following the High Priest even longer than you've been following me." Marlene regained her composure and chimed in, "The friendship and bond between you and the High Priest are destined to become an eternal, cherished legend within our Church of Order." Why were there persistent rumors in the church that High Priest Norton might possess the status of a 'Holy Child'? It was because the path the High Priest walked was different from those Holy Children. He had risen steadily from the grassroots, step by step, smoothly and stably, but never relying on the backing of the high brass or any faction. In fact, throughout his promotions, he had encountered no shortage of accidents and difficulties, yet he had resolved every single one. Regardless of the system or the department he was in, his performance had always been exceptional. All of this was on the public record. As for those Holy Children—like Mavaglio—they clearly did not walk this path. They were more like young phoenixes raised in gilded nests, quietly awaiting maturity before naturally being assigned a prestigious post. Furthermore, during the High Priest's rise through the ranks, whenever he moved to a new department or a new post, the current Whip-Wielder would quickly follow along. They would either transfer together, or not long after the High Priest assumed his post, the Whip-Wielder would follow through a lateral transfer or even take a demotion to join him. Thus, to say the Whip-Wielder and the High Priest were inseparable lifelong partners and comrades in arms might be a slight stretch, but as a follower and the one being followed, their bond was undeniably tight. "It was still better back in those small places and minor departments," Foden remarked. "You could do things for the sheer satisfaction of it. Whatever couldn't be done openly, you'd just take off your clerical robe and do it in secret. "The High Priest would sit on the front steps of their residence playing his harmonica, while the rest of us barged right into the estate. "When we finished killing everyone and came out, the High Priest would even complain that we took too long. Just to wrap up the tune right as we stepped outside, he had to loop the middle section three times, leaving his lips bone-dry." Foden set down the fishing rod with his left hand, brushed back his hair, leaned back slightly, and continued: "How wonderful things were back then. Political impact, connections, factions, balance of power—all of it felt so far removed from us. Back then, I naively thought I'd never have to worry about any of it. "That's why I think he was really out of line. When he roped us into joining him, he said getting together was all about living freely and unbound. And yes, we did enjoy quite a long stretch of that free life. "Only later did I realize he didn't keep his word at all. The higher you climb, the more concerns pile up. When he couldn't shoulder all the worries alone, we had to start worrying alongside him. "Originally, the thinking and scheming was something he could handle by himself. "The rest of us just sharpened our blades when it was time to sharpen blades, drank when it was time to drink, and those who fancied women went straight to lose themselves among them the moment their shift ended. "Now, that's impossible. Whether you have the brains for it or not, you're forced to use them. Being managed was honestly the most comfortable—after all, we all respected the man leading us. But then, he insisted on making us manage people too. "When there were fewer subordinates, it was still manageable. But as the personnel multiplied, the departments proliferated, and I somehow became the chief of an entire system, I finally realized how endless and annoying the daily bullshit really is. "What do you think?" Marlene spoke up, "To serve you is the greatest honor of my life!" Steven said, "My greatest pride is offering my unreserved loyalty to you!" Foden tilted his head up and let out a faint sound, like laughter, yet also like disdain. After a long pause, he sighed: "I said the exact same words to the High Priest several times." Marlene and Steven pressed their palms a little harder against the ground, terrified the Whip-Wielder's next words would be: *but they were all lies.* However, Foden merely continued: "I truly offered my loyalty to him, both in the past and now. Because very early on, I asked him a question. I asked him, wouldn't doing things this way violate the church's rules? "His answer satisfied me, and from that moment, I decided to follow him for the rest of my life." Foden turned his body and looked down at the two still kneeling on the ground, asking, "Can the situation in the York City Region be settled?" Steven and Marlene said in unison, "Please rest assured!" "Good. Do it as quickly as possible." Foden waved a hand. "Once you've settled it, come back to see me." "Understood, Whip-Wielder." "Understood, Whip-Wielder." Marlene and Steven both rose to their feet and exited the office. The moment the doors shut behind them, both let out a long sigh of relief. Even though their clerical robes possessed self-cleaning properties, their backs had already been soaked with sweat several times over. Steven asked, "Why do I get the feeling the Whip-Wielder already knows?" Marlene replied, "In the past, the Whip-Wielder simply never bothered to look this way." "Right... that's true." Steven nodded. "So the Whip-Wielder is giving us a chance?" "Most likely. We must resolve this swiftly. Fast." "Yes, fast." ... Back on the island in the middle of the lake inside the office. Foden twirled the cigar between his fingers, as if speaking to himself. "Did you think I was just reminiscing without a reason? Not at all. I don't have that kind of free time. It's just that thinking back on old memories leaves a suffocating knot in my chest if I don't speak them aloud. "Do you know why I picked up the habit of smoking this brand of cigars just like the High Priest? Do you know why I read the books the High Priest has read? "Remember what I just said about the High Priest playing the harmonica back then? "The last time he ever played it was when someone among us grew too ambitious. Thinking that becoming a deputy chief of a system meant he could break away from the High Priest—who had just suffered a political setback at the time—he tried defecting to another faction to advance his career. "And then, he died. "I remember clearly: at his funeral, the High Priest sat beside the coffin, playing the harmonica for him. "Ever since that day, I've never seen the High Priest touch a harmonica again. "That's why I hope that when the High Priest smokes his very last cigar, I can be beside him to light it or share a smoke with him; "and when the High Priest reads his very last novel, I can be beside him chatting about the plot and characters, or simply reading along with him; "because being there is far better than lying in the coffin behind him, isn't it?" Foden slowly rose to his feet. Along with his movement, the breeze around him gradually intensified. "A long time ago, I asked the High Priest: won't what we're doing violate the church's rules? "The High Priest answered: It won't. "I asked: Why? "He answered: Because the church's rules were established by him in the first place. "Hehehe... hahaha..." Foden's laughter echoed across the lake, gradually dying down. The gentleness that had previously lingered in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by cold detachment. In this instant, he seemed to return to the persona most familiar to others. He opened his hands and stared at his palms. "They always think that if they pull schemes under my nose, I won't notice; "they always think they've completely mapped out my temper and habits; "Sigh, I was simply too lazy to look, and even lazier to interfere. As long as no major disaster occurred, I let them do as they pleased. "Using my name to rope in outsiders and position their own cronies—it's all normal, isn't it? Anyone in their position would do the same. "The premise is: don't let things spin out of control. "Yet even after they let it spin out of control, I still gave them a chance. They were already on their knees, and I laid things out so clearly, yet they still chose not to be honest with me. "They truly think they can fool me from start to finish. "Oh please. "They've only ever served me, while I served the High Priest. "Can they compare to the High Priest? "And can someone who served me compare to someone who served the High Priest? "It's just a shame... "once this matter is over, "I won't be able to play with the ants anymore." Foden reached down, picked up the fishing rod once more, and flicked it upward. The next instant, the lake froze over, ice peaks rose anew, and the island was sealed in frost in the blink of an eye. A massive frost dragon soared into the air from the frozen lake, following the arc of the Whip-Wielder's rod to perform a leap reminiscent of a performing dolphin at a circus. "Good boy. Afterward, those two pieces of meat will be yours as a snack." ... Auditorium, York City Region Whip of Order Headquarters. This was the epicenter of the current vortex, and the vortex was still spinning. Neo had already overturned the banquet table, splattering Minister Bernie from head to toe with bowls, pots, and various broths. Wiping it off was out of the question. Yet rolling around in the mess on the floor held no appeal either. Although he had never anticipated events taking such a turn, he had once possessed the nerve to organize an 'observation delegation' early on for political speculation. Now, faced with this chaotic situation, he at least had the spine to stand up and face the music. Minister Bernie rose to his feet. He offered no explanation, because this matter was beyond explaining. He couldn't claim it was all a misunderstanding, nor that it was merely an insubordinate move by the two office directors on stage acting on their own initiative. He knew very well the difference between backing the wrong political horse and suffering absolute political death. Bernie spoke up, "Everyone, the progress and findings of this investigation will be announced daily at the upcoming investigation press conferences. It is an honor to invite you all to supervise the work of our Whip of Order." With that, Bernie raised his hand. But before he could issue an order, he saw everyone in Karen's squad stand up. As if following a prearranged schedule with utmost courtesy, they took positions behind each bound Bishop and signaled for them to accompany them to temporarily check into the luxury detention facility. Bernie blinked. Well, he didn't find anything surprising anymore. Wolflen spoke up, "Go ahead, everyone. There's no need to feel guilty—just cooperate." To the Bishops' ears, these words sounded more like a promise and guarantee. Moreover, they were quite eager to see how the Whip of Order would clean up the massive mess they had created, so they swallowed their anger and cooperatively allowed themselves to be 'escorted' away. The meeting adjourned, and the crowd dispersed. Leon, who had initially intended to go 'escort' a Bishop as well, was bumped directly by Vic, nearly tumbling to the floor. "Your assignment right now is to keep the Head Bishop good company, fawn over him on behalf of our director, and build a good rapport. You have the heaviest responsibility. Don't worry about losing face—even if you have to play the dutiful grandson in front of him!" Leon: "..." Vic patted Leon's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't be nervous. I believe in your capabilities." Leon could only reply, "Thank you... for your trust." Karen and Neo walked out through the side door of the front hall and ran into Laure, who came rushing over. Laure looked at Karen in disbelief. Before the meeting, he had even represented his grandfather in inviting Karen to dinner, dreaming that he might join Karen's team just like Leon. Yet he never expected that while a meal would indeed be served, it would be prison food. He wanted to say something to Karen, or at least show where he stood—such as... fury. But when Karen and Neo turned their gazes upon him simultaneously, his lips merely quivered. He swallowed hard, then stepped aside against the wall. Karen said nothing, nor did he bother to explain. When he had accepted the dinner invitation, he had no idea Laure's grandfather's name would be written on the card. Just then, Bernie appeared ahead, flanked by a row of Order priests standing behind him. Bernie looked at Karen first and said, "The investigation will be handled by the First Office." Karen nodded. Bernie pointed at Neo and said, "Director Neo of the Second Office, based on your past conduct, the ministry has decided to initiate an internal investigation against you. Please cooperate." "Sure." Neo appeared entirely composed. Several priests walked up beside Neo. Neo raised both hands together, and one priest beside him said, "Director, handcuffs aren't necessary for an internal investigation." "That won't do. I'll feel like something is missing otherwise. Put them on, and you'd better take a photo of me too—I'd like a souvenir." "Director, it's very difficult for us to accommodate such a request." "We're colleagues from the same department; can't you cut me some slack?" "Our apologies, Director, you're really putting us in a difficult spot. Please just come with us to undergo the investigation." "Heh, next time I arrest you lot, don't blame me for turning down your requests too, hehe." Bernie frowned and ordered, "Take him away." "Yes, Minister." "Yes, Minister." Alfred stepped up behind Karen. Karen said to him, "Begin the investigation. If we're short on hands, mobilize Whip of Order squads from within this region. If that's still not enough, requisition teams from neighboring regions." "That will require official missives, which will cause a slight delay." "They aren't that busy. Issue them directly in my name. Any squad that refuses to come, just take down their names." "Understood." Hearing this, Bernie said, "The case files will be delivered to your office shortly." "Understood, Minister." "Handle this matter well. Remember, wrap it up quickly. It will benefit both you and me. Oh, and starting tomorrow, you will be responsible for announcing the investigation's progress at the press conferences." As he spoke, Bernie stepped up to Karen and gently straightened Karen's collar. "After all, you are the public face of our ministry." "I will follow your directives, Minister, and see all the work through." "Sometimes, when doing things, it should stem from your own sense of responsibility and choice. You can't just follow orders blindly from above. That lacks the vigor a young man ought to have." "Minister." "Hm?" "Do you have it?" Bernie's eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "A few misunderstandings. I'll explain them to you afterward. After all, you're a young man I hold in very high regard." "You were a superior I held in high regard as well. Originally." "Regardless, we're in the same boat. If the boat capsizes, we both drown." "Do you know the most rational way to save a drowning man? When he has thrashed until his strength is almost gone. Otherwise, if you approach him, instinct will make him cling to you with all his might— "and then, "drag you down to drown together." As Karen spoke, he stepped past Bernie and called out to Neo, who was being escorted ahead: "Hey, what do you want for dinner? I'll deliver it to the detention center." Neo continued walking forward and shouted back: "Are you cooking it yourself?" "Sure." "Oil-splashed noodles!" "Alright." Neo raised an arm and reminded him, "Don't forget the garlic!" "Got it."