Not to Be Trifled With

Carrying two bowls of noodles, Karen walked up to the entrance of the detention center, where several security department priests stood on guard. Seeing Karen approach, they exchanged glances in obvious hesitation. They had clearly heard news or caught wind of what had happened—and even without that, they were not fools. Wasn't Director Neo locked inside undergoing an investigation right now? The headquarters building had always possessed an organizational framework, but with the revival of the Whip of Order's local regional functions—especially with the York City Region being among the first wave—there was a large influx of newly transferred and recruited priests. It was no longer as desolate as it had been at the start. In other words, Minister Bernie was no longer a lone general who had to build a squad from scratch. While quality was not so easily raised in the short term, in sheer quantity he had managed to muster plenty. Struggles of this kind almost always followed the same pattern. The departmental leadership remained strictly tight-lipped about it, actively denying that any such conflict even existed while intentionally projecting an air of unity and harmony on the surface. By contrast, the subordinates down below—who were hardly affected at all—loved to crane their necks high like rows of giraffes, swaying in the breeze to manufacture a strong sense of personal involvement as though they stood at the very center of the maelstrom. Karen came to a stop and said calmly, "Open the door." A brief struggle was visible on the gatekeeping priests' faces, though most of that struggle was merely posturing to save face for their eventual compromise. The door swung open, and Karen met no resistance. Once Karen walked in, they pulled the door shut again. "Weren't we supposed to report this to the minister's office? Those were instructions from above." "Right, shouldn't we at least have notified the working group interrogating Director Neo inside first?" "Hey, why didn't you mention that just now? Either way, I wouldn't dare stop this lord." "Neither would I." "Same here." "Then what the hell are you blabbering about now!" *** Inside the interrogation room, Neo sat in his chair with his legs crossed, yawning. Across from him sat three men conducting his inquiry. The door opened, and Karen appeared on the threshold. Catching the aroma of noodles, Neo didn't even turn his head as he complained, "What took you so long? I've been starving." "Director Karen." "Director Karen." The three investigators stood and bowed to Karen. Karen tilted his head toward the door, signaling for them to leave. One of the investigators spoke up. "Director Karen, our first round of questioning isn't finished yet. Could you wait until we conclude before making your visit?" "The noodles will get cold." The investigator pursed his lips and braced himself. "But Director Karen, this is our assignment. Please..." A faint smile appeared on Karen's face. "What is your name?" The investigator immediately lowered his head, not daring to answer. In this environment and context, having this director take the initiative to ask for his name was a blatant threat. If he remembered his name, what would follow? The investigator turned at once to his two colleagues. "The first round of questioning is concluded. Let's go." The three investigators swiftly gathered their things and left the interrogation room. As they passed Karen, each bowed respectfully. Noticing the bowls of noodles in his hands, they even thoughtfully pulled the door shut behind them. Karen placed the noodles on the table, then turned, intending to pause the surveillance array in the room. "No need to go through all that trouble." Neo took out a blue gemstone and pressed his fingertip against it. A flash of blue light rippled across the surrounding walls, indicating that the array had been temporarily deactivated. "How convenient." "Bah, when I modified the defensive arrays here before, I left a few backdoors. Who wouldn't make a few extra house keys, right?" Karen nodded. "Seeing that you can break out of jail so easily puts my mind at ease." "Here, take one. It won't open everything, but it can control a small section of the surrounding arrays. More than enough." Karen caught the small sapphire Neo tossed him and slipped it into his pocket. "It seems you weren't just prepared for a solo breakout, but set the groundwork for a mass escape." "Heh." Neo deftly picked up a pair of chopsticks, lowered his head to shovel a huge mouthful of noodles into his mouth, and looked up as he chewed. "Those punks are pretty terrified of you." "It seems so." Karen picked up a bulb of garlic, split it in two, and began peeling a clove. "You may have only just been promoted to director, but you have quite the reputation and quite the track record. Not long ago, you killed an assassin who dared target the Head Bishop's family all on your own. Those fellows lost their nerve the moment they met your eyes." Karen tossed the peeled clove into Neo's bowl. Then he picked up another clove and kept peeling. Neo picked up the garlic with his chopsticks, took a bite, and followed it with another large mouthful of noodles. An expression of pure contentment spread across his face as he sighed, "Truly, prison food really does taste better than a restaurant's." "By the way, Bernie came to see me just now to bow his head and surrender. He claimed this whole thing happened because some big shot above wanted to mess with me." "Tch." Neo shook his head disdainfully. "Anyone who dares mess with you certainly isn't any real big shot." "Perhaps." "Still, that explains everything. I was wondering why he'd pull a stunt like this out of nowhere—it really wasn't worth the trouble for him. Looking at it now, something major must have changed, forcing Bernie and his people to quell the fallout first." "Thanks to you flipping the table on stage. Thank you." "If you'd been up there instead, you would've flipped it without hesitation. So what's with the 'thank you'? Boring." "If I hadn't said it, you would've asked: 'How do you have the nerve not to say thank you?'" "Would I?" "You would." "Fair enough. So, are things moving in a good direction?" "So far, it seems so. As long as I agree to cooperate, you can walk right out." "What kind of condition is that? I'm doing great in here. The cell is clean, perfect for resting and contemplation. I actually wouldn't mind staying a bit longer." "To do what?" "Write a book. Many famous works throughout history were written by authors while locked in prison." "I don't believe you have that kind of leisure." "I have plenty of material in my head. Philias's memories contain quite a few writings, all original to him." Karen dropped a second peeled clove of garlic into Neo's bowl and remarked, "Right, serve your time in an Order prison and walk out clutching a freshly written book on Light. You won't be getting released—you'll be transferred straight from the cell to the execution ground." "Heh, he must have offered other terms, right?" "Yes. A promotion." "For me?" Neo asked. "For me," Karen replied. Neo popped a whole clove of garlic into his mouth and chewed vigorously. "Damn it! So unfair!" "Yes, I think so too. Presumably because they need my cooperation, not yours." "What I despise most in this life are pampered young masters like you who reap every benefit just from your family background! Your very existence is an insult to hardworking talents like me!" "Indeed. I apologize." "Fine, I accept your apology." Having finished his first bowl of noodles, Neo pulled the second one toward himself. Karen didn't fight him for it. Tossing the remaining peeled cloves into the bowl, he dusted off his hands. "Promoted to minister?" Neo asked between bites. "Said it was deputy minister." "A deputy minister at your age. Do you know that being a director at my age already makes me a young gun?" "Well, it's alright, I suppose." "Let him stew a bit longer. Since he backed down so quickly, the people behind him must be feeling enormous pressure. Squeeze him, and you can squeeze out even more benefits. Maybe you can drop the 'deputy' entirely. Becoming a full head of a department is a royal pain these days—we might as well skip that hurdle altogether." Karen shook his head. "I don't plan on agreeing." "You're refusing? Are you crazy?" "They slap me across the face and then hand me a sweet date, and I'm just supposed to take it?" Neo licked his lips and asked with a grin, "What, angry?" "Yes." "Fine, then don't agree. Wear them down to the bone." "Alright." "Not enough garlic. Peel a few more." "Honestly, watching a bloodthirsty aberrant demon relish garlic up close feels completely jarring." "Who taught me to eat it like this anyway? Heh, when I found out you ate raw garlic, contrasting that with your usual picture of propriety, I thought it was pretty jarring too." "Actually, I don't eat it often." Karen preferred plain noodles for breakfast, which didn't require garlic. "I think dragging this out might achieve a similar result," Neo analyzed. "When the ceiling collapses, the tallest gets hit first anyway." "We'll take it one step at a time. Who knows how things will develop? It simply comes down to having some status and savings now. I'm no longer the lowly God's Servant I once was, with a constant crisis of survival hanging over my head. So when someone truly picks a fight with me, I can't be bothered to calculate gains and losses anymore. If I can slap them back, I slap them back—ideally without waiting overnight, so I won't even have trouble sleeping." "Still, I have to remind you: you need to climb higher, and you have that two-year time limit." "It wasn't as if we went looking for trouble with them. Weren't we planning to work hard for him so we could rise alongside him when he was promoted? Now that he wants to throw us down a well and put a lid over it, there's no reason to hold back or be polite. Some grievances and insults must be endured for the sake of making a living, but not every insult should be swallowed. Live like that, and you don't have a life at all. When I left home, my grandfather gave me a piece of advice: never let yourself suffer grievances." "Suit yourself, suit yourself." Neo pushed the empty bowl away, propped his arms up, and gave a great stretch. "What about those bishops you arrested? What do you plan to do with them?" "First of all, you were the one who arrested those bishops." "Fine, I arrested them." "Since you've already arrested them, we'll proceed according to standard interrogation procedures. As for the upcoming purge, if more people need to be taken in, we'll keep arresting them. Now that we have the means, everything will be done strictly by the Code of Order." "I can tell your head is clear. Alright then, I'll keep resting here. Remember to bring me food." "You know things will be busy soon." "Don't I know whether you're busy or not!" "We'll see. I won't disturb your rest." Karen stood up, picked up the empty bowls, left the detention center, and returned to his office. The office was empty, as was the corridor outside. Even the two door guardians who normally sat there had been roped into the investigation efforts. Karen yawned, walked into the inner room, and began washing up, preparing to sleep. Choosing not to head straight home to rest was his final gesture of respect for the importance of his work. Yet the moment he lay down on the bed, the office door was pushed open, and Richard came running in. "Director! Alfred told me to let you know that a woman named Anita is waiting for you at the café across the street." Anita, the woman from the gravedigger clan? What was she looking for him for? Karen got out of bed, changed into his clerical robe, and stepped out of the inner room. Richard rubbed his hands together, his face alight with gossip. "Karen, who is this Anita? Don't worry, I won't tell your fiancée, heh heh." Honestly, if this fellow weren't his cousin, he would probably be lying flat on the floor right now. "An acquaintance." "A woman, right?" "Yes." "What does her family do? If there's a chance, I could bring some people over to support their business." "They dig graves." Richard was struck dumb. "Aren't you busy with work? How do you have the headspace for this nonsense?" "It's alright. I'm just running errands and stamping documents. Busy, but not exhausting." "What is Memphis doing?" "Organizing documents." "Go help him more. Tell him I sent you—say he's slow in the head and you're there to assist." "Alright, no problem!" Richard puffed his chest out with excitement. He had long wanted to do work that required some technical skill, even if only a little. Karen exited the headquarters building. This time, as he stepped outside the range of the defensive array, he clearly sensed someone tailing him. The stalker's concealment technique was ingenious, but Karen was carrying the blue gemstone Neo had just given him. Sensing another presence exiting through the headquarters' main entrance at the same time, while seeing no second person beside him, made it unmistakably clear. Karen stopped in his tracks, pulled out a cigarette pack from his pocket, drew one out, and lit it. Nowadays, aside from special cigarettes like those of the Thunder God Cult, Karen rarely smoked. An occasional cigarette was usually discarded after a puff or two. This time, however, he slowly smoked it to the end, flicked a long column of ash to his side, dropped the butt beneath his boot, and crushed it into the ground. It was a warning: stop following, or face the consequences. The church was a place of rigid hierarchy. The clearest example was that if higher-ups were speaking some distance away, even without an isolation barrier erected for privacy, those around them would never dare probe. Instead, they would deliberately avoid looking, terrified of being perceived as disrespectful. Now, this fellow's attempt to tail him was already a far deeper offense. Giving him a warning was courtesy; if he refused to stop, the consequences would be his own. Karen continued walking forward. Knowing he might be followed, he scattered threads of spirituality along the way, letting them linger in puddles on the ground, in the air, and throughout his surroundings. This was an exceedingly lavish method of detection, yet it was also the simplest and most efficient—provided one's spirituality was vast enough to afford such waste. After walking some distance, Karen sensed that the person was still tailing him. Karen closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled. Not long ago, an assassin had broken into his home, costing the life of one of his subordinates. Right now, he was at his most sensitive. On top of that, being backstabbed by his superior at today's commendation ceremony had left him with a belly full of fury. Under these circumstances, deliberately warning the stalker not to cross the line was already immense forbearance. Since the other party didn't want it, then there was nothing more to say. Even knowing the person was from the Church of Order, that only meant they ought to know better what lines not to cross. Either you had the skill to avoid detection, like him and Neo, or if you got caught, you had better be prepared to pay the price. Besides, concluding that the person was merely tailing him for an investigation was only his guess. For all he knew, they might be here to assassinate him. Passing the glass window of the café, Karen saw Anita sitting inside. Before her was a cup of coffee and a white muff that looked like a fur glove. Anita glanced toward Karen. Karen raised a hand to rub his nose, and as he lowered it, he drew his finger lightly across his neck. Then, instead of entering the café, Karen walked right past the entrance. He continued down the street, turned into an alley, and stopped once he reached the other side, waiting in place. A moment later, Anita emerged from the alley's shadows, carrying a man over her shoulder. The man wore not a clerical robe, but a gray trench coat. Karen glanced at him and said, "Why did you kill him outright?" Anita stared at him, speechless. The woman was furious. She had never seen anyone utter such shameless words with such calm, matter-of-fact composure. "You gave me the signal!" Anita snapped. "Did I? My neck was itchy." Anita was at a loss for words. Karen reached out and checked the tracker. "He's dead, beyond saving. I hit him hard." "I'm just checking if there are any traces of spiritual power remaining." "I didn't purify him so you could conduct an Awakening interrogation. Of course, if you don't plan on doing one, give me a moment and I'll dispose of the body. You know the circumstances here are delicate." "No need. Just toss him in the trash can." "He'll be found." "I want them to find him." Karen pursed his lips and added, "To let them know I'm not someone to be trifled with."