The Garrison Storms In!

"You still have what's ahead of you; you still have a future. Before long, the official disposal notices for you and me will come down. I'd like to treat you to a farewell dinner, and at the table, I will offer you a sincere apology. Whatever happened, we worked together once." Bernie adopted a very humble posture. In truth, reaching this point in the affair, he was already exhausted, both physically and mentally. He felt no joy of a victor, nor had the young man before him suffered the punishment of a loser yet. This was an unfair game. He was merely a chess piece, and as a chess piece, one's joys and sorrows meant nothing, because no one truly cared. As for Karen's earlier reaction, Minister Bernie thought it was just stubborn bravado from a young man refusing to admit defeat and setback. He could understand that—after all, who hadn't been young once? But he was mistaken. Karen was not someone who could not accept losing. Given his style of doing things, if the time truly came when he lost, he would conduct himself with far more grace and dignity than the vast majority of losers. The issue was that he hadn't lost yet. Karen stood up, both hands still thrust into the pockets of his clerical robes. The posture seemed somewhat irreverent and overly casual. Of course, if Karen had been wearing a white shirt paired with slim-fit jeans right now, the pose would have been more than fitting. Walking over to the edge of the venue, he came to a stop. As the meeting concluded, everyone was filing out in an orderly manner. Karen silently calculated the time in his mind. Next should be the release of those five bishops; outside, a "prisoner release ceremony" was about to be held. Monaxi signaled her assistant beside her to capture the shot quickly. "Quick, quick, come here! Crouch down! Yes, yes, from this angle! Use the black curtains in the hall as the backdrop!" *Click...* The resulting photograph captured a young priest standing at the edge of the hall, gazing forward with a lonely, solitary figure. Behind him, the heavy, dark drapes created an intensely deep and oppressive atmosphere. Monaxi quickly jotted in her notebook: "The Church of Order has always proclaimed itself the greatest church in the world. They believe the Eye of Order perceives all rules in existence and remain convinced that their great God of Order listens from on high to every storm and squall. "Yet a church as vast as Order cannot tolerate a passionate, righteous young man, blind to his struggles and deaf to his cries. "According to the set of principles formulated by the Church of Principles, the very moment something peaks in development is also the starting point of its decline. "When passionate youths can no longer see hope within this church, I believe the trajectory of the Church of Order's future should now begin curving downward. "Perhaps this sounds absurd, but in this young man's eyes, I see the answer the future holds for the Church of Order." "Are there really so many things in my eyes?" "Ah!" Startled, Monaxi flung the fountain pen right out of her hand. Karen reached out, caught it, and handed it back to her. "Thank you... thank you! But... why did you come down so quickly?" "How long was I supposed to stand up there?" Karen asked. "Well... no... um..." In Monaxi's mind, Karen should have remained standing at the edge of the stage for a long, long time, watching the dispersing crowd slowly vanish as he savored the bitterness of his bleak future. "Which church are you a reporter for?" "Lord Karen, I am a reporter for the Church of Grey. My name is Monaxi. It's a great pleasure to meet you!" Monaxi extended her hand for a handshake, but Karen's hands remained in his pockets. "Uh..." Monaxi did not feel slighted. After all, the Church of Grey was merely a mid-tier church, and on the lower side among them at that. The ecclesiastical circles were a pragmatic place, and she had long grown used to such realities. "I think your writing is overly emotional," Karen remarked. "It would probably be better to keep it concise, leaving more room for the readers' imagination." "Uh... yes, understood. Thank you for the advice." Karen nodded and turned around, only to find his arm seized by the female reporter. "Lord Karen, may I request an opportunity to conduct an exclusive interview with you?" Monaxi hesitated briefly, extending only a sincere plea without any flirtatious gestures or suggestive undertones. Although she had always been confident in her looks, facing this young director left her somewhat lacking in confidence. He was clearly just a man, yet she felt thoroughly outmatched. Karen shook his head in refusal. The female reporter was still clutching his arm, which he naturally brushed off. Once Karen had walked some distance away, Monaxi's assistant reminded her, "Boss, our teleportation formation tickets are expiring soon. We should hurry to the Church Affairs Building." "No rush. Keep the tickets. An expired ticket can be used for a seventy percent discount on the next teleportation to the same destination, right?" "But the affair is already over..." "Over? I don't know. Maybe. But I want to stay a little longer. Grab your camera and come with me." "Boss, have you taken a liking to that director? Heh, maybe you had no chance before, but now that he's fallen from power, he must be feeling utterly despondent. It's the perfect opportunity for you to turn on your charm and win him over!" "Charm your dear mother!" Assistant: "..." "I didn't see a single trace of dejection in his eyes. As the finest journalist of our church's periodical, I trust my intuition. We're staying!" *** "Young Master, I have instructed Vic to take people to sort out that dossier." "Mm." Behind Alfred stood Muri, Ventura, and Philomena. At this critical juncture, Alfred deliberately prioritized their "inner circle," affording them intentional preferential treatment. Even Richard, who had originally wanted to stay behind to continue serving as Philomena's lightning rod for attention, was singled out by Alfred to help sort files. To Alfred's mind, if "believers" received no special treatment, who would ever want to join this special "inner circle" in the future? And if a team were to possess cohesion and fighting strength, it had to have a core, along with a direct inner clique tightly orbiting that core. "Young Master..." "Follow me outside. We're making arrests." "Yes, Young Master." "Yes, Director!" Karen walked out, the others following behind him. Just after leaving the auditorium, three priests approached from down the hallway. One stepped forward and addressed Karen: "Director Karen, by order of the Regional Chief, we are to carry out internal investigation procedures on you. Please cooperate with our work." This was the exact treatment Neo had received earlier. If Karen nodded in agreement and complied right now, he would soon be in the detention center discussing new book titles with Neo across two rows of iron bars and a narrow walkway. Karen ignored him, merely shaking his head calmly. "Director Karen, please understand and cooperate." Saying this, the priest signaled his colleagues behind him to step forward and flank Karen, intending to escort him politely to the detention center. Karen didn't move; Muri moved first. Lurching forward with sudden explosive momentum, his hands clamped onto the necks of the two priests. The immense force lifted both men off their feet before slamming them violently onto the floor. *Bang! Bang!* In terms of close combat, Muri couldn't quite showcase his full strength within the squad when compared to Karen and Philomena, but out in the world, no one dared underestimate the Benda family's close-combat heritage. The priest who had delivered the order started to speak when he saw what happened, only to discover a frigid dagger already resting across his throat. Philomena kicked the priest's knees, sending him crashing down onto both knees before Karen with a dull thud. "Heh, who taught you that?" Karen asked with a chuckle. Philomena's brows knit slightly. Had she done something wrong? Stepping around the three subdued priests, Karen continued walking out. In any case, resisting the law by force inside the Whip of Order headquarters building—Karen had truly set a precedent. Sheathing her dagger, Philomena asked Alfred, "Did I do something wrong?" Alfred answered, "Not at all. Please maintain this kind of proactive initiative." Ventura puffed his cheeks indignantly. "There were clearly three of them! Why didn't you leave one for me?!" Having missed out on the chance to show off, little Stone was deeply disgruntled. Behind them, Monaxi and her assistant emerged and caught sight of the scene, both showing expressions of pleasant surprise. "They're really tearing off all pretense, Boss!" "Quick, shoot! Shoot!" *** Karen climbed the stairs and reached the first floor. Just then, Old Koya approached with his personnel from the Security Section. Seeing Karen stroll up as if nothing had happened, he froze, immediately looking behind Karen and finding no sign of the priests sent to deliver the order. "Th-This... This... This..." While Old Koya stammered, the dozens of security personnel behind him instinctively spread into a fan formation to block Karen, out of habit from daily drills. Ventura dashed forward, his body rapidly growing to giant proportions and radiating tremendous pressure. Without hesitation, he unleashed a furious roar at the security personnel in front of him: "ROAR!" The security personnel backed away one after another. They weren't afraid of Ventura, but rather knew that Ventura's fierce response reflected the attitude of this young director. Karen kept walking forward. For every step Karen took, Ventura took a stride ahead, blazing a path for him. Old Koya immediately waved his hands, signaling his men to step aside. He had received orders to assist in detaining Director Karen for internal investigation, but since the man chose to refuse—well, then refuse it was. He was just an old retiree hired back on contract, not some twenty-something lad. He had long abandoned pipe dreams of taking gambles to make a name for himself. Ventura's roar reverberated through the entire floor. Office doors swung open as staff came out to see the spectacle. The crowd that had begun dispersing after the meeting started gathering here once more, though many had already stepped out of the building toward the small open-air press conference outside for the release of the five bishops. However, everyone present simply watched Karen walk toward the main entrance; no one stepped forward to stop or question him. Though young, Karen possessed immense renown and prestige here. Furthermore, the order for the internal investigation had not been officially announced. Even if everyone knew Karen would soon face punitive sanctions, until the official documents were issued, he remained the Director. Soon, however, black barriers sprang up around Karen, blocking him on all sides. Twelve priests wielding ritual implements materialized; they were members of the building's Formation Department. Kodal, the Minister of the Formation Department, stepped out from the crowd ahead. He glanced first at the giant Ventura, frowning, then looked at Karen standing beside Ventura, his scowl deepening. He likely didn't know an internal investigation had been ordered against Karen, for his opening words were: "Karen, do not forget your place! This is not where a young man throws a tantrum just because he was wronged!" Karen nodded to show he heard, then kept walking forward. "Tell your subordinate to shrink back down!" Kodal barked. "Or don't blame me for being discourteous!" Karen continued walking, and Ventura advanced as well, his massive frame colliding with the black barriers and causing them to warp. "Heh, even at this point, you're still causing a scene? Did you truly believe there is no one here who can put you in your place?!" A blue formation halo appeared in Kodal's hand. Under his control, the black barriers thickened significantly, while an even more immense binding formation descended. Inside this headquarters building, the defensive formations were sufficient to drive most powerhouses to despair. To some degree, he ought to be the most formidable entity within these walls. Karen's hand, resting in his pocket, lightly brushed against the sapphire. *Crack...* The menacing formation suddenly stuttered and fell into disarray, dissipating into gusts laden with dense spiritual power that swept outward in all directions. The defensive formation in this area had failed. Ventura dashed forward, hoisted Minister Kodal with one hand, and tossed him onto his shoulder. His other hand held him down with considerate care; if he wished, he could crush the upper half of this bishop's body at any moment. Not every minister knew how to fight—Uncle Aisen, for instance, was proficient in formations but terrible in a brawl. Compounded by the sudden failure of the formations Minister Kodal took such pride in, he had been effortlessly seized the moment Ventura closed the distance. Even if Old Master Delon were in his shoes, there would have been nothing he could do in such a predicament. No matter how exquisite your mastery of formations, an unadorned giant palm could flatten you straight into Wien bean paste. "Karen, do you have any idea what you're doing?! You're finished! You'll be sentenced very soon, and yet you dare do this?!" Minister Kodal was beside himself with fury, for at this moment he was hoisted like a little boy on his father's shoulders. Ventura, after all, was pure and kind-hearted; had it been Neo doing this, Neo likely would have yanked the minister's pants right off and left his bare bottom exposed. All in all, comical and utterly bizarre as the scene appeared, Karen arrived at the main entrance virtually unimpeded. Thanks to the unique construction of the headquarters building, the inside and outside were practically soundproofed from one another. Thus, while chaos had erupted indoors, the press conference on the plaza outside proceeded normally. A swarm of reporters gathered around, while Regional Chief Harry's ministers and Dunk's bishops assembled there to complete the final act of this political show. However, an unexpected incident occurred after all—though it wasn't caused by Karen. Karen was still walking outside when one of the detained bishops shouted at the top of his lungs: "Have Karen come out and apologize to us, or else we're not leaving!" No one who attained the position of bishop was a fool. Freaks like the Norton family were anomalies among anomalies—even Dolph Norton himself had wondered if their family was cursed to be so foolish! Yet after being detained for so many days, subjected daily to Karen's "verbal abuse" at the case briefings, even those with the best tempers and finest upbringing refused to bottle it up any longer. The higher one stood, the less one could stomach such humiliation. Hearing this, Regional Chief Harry frowned slightly. He didn't want any more complications. Although broadcast formations had been set up in the auditorium today, they had a delay implemented, and the operators were his own people. The reporters gathered here right now were all from the Church of Order and affiliated churches, all briefed beforehand. Reporters from other churches had been dismissed after the meeting. In short, it was all to prevent the young man from using the media to throw another tantrum and make extortionate demands. Therefore, having Karen come out to apologize posed no issue now. No matter how well Karen could act, he wouldn't be able to stir up any waves. But Regional Chief Harry was simply weary, feeling almost identical to Minister Bernie. Because after this ordeal, his dream of being promoted to the Dinge Region was, in all likelihood, shattered. On the other side, Acting Head Bishop Dunk smiled in agreement. He planned to succeed Wolflen, and this was the perfect moment to win hearts and minds. Dunk said, "Regional Chief Harry, I believe that is a very reasonable request. Have that director named Karen come apologize. It is only right." "I've already dispatched people to subject him to an internal investigation. Never mind... Bernie, go bring him out." "Yes, Regional Chief." Right at that moment, everyone suddenly noticed a group of people emerging from the main entrance of the headquarters building. Karen and his group walked in front, followed by a throng of onlookers. Upon stepping outside, the giant Ventura let out a low roar. No longer restricted by the building's ceiling, his body expanded even further, making Kodal hanging over his shoulder look all the more miniature. After growing larger, Ventura's emotional regulation was no longer as smooth. With eyes gradually turning bloodshot, he extended a finger and flicked Minister Kodal's butt: *Thwack!* "Aaaagh!!" The sensation was as if a stone mill had rolled directly over his buttocks. As a formation master whose physical body was relatively frail to begin with, Minister Kodal couldn't hold it in and let out a wretched wail. Bernie appeared before Karen and asked, "Have you lost your mind?" Karen paid Bernie no heed. Instead, he applied an amplification spell and spoke: "These five bishops are guilty. They cannot be released." Karen's voice reverberated all around. Dunk laughed directly. "This young man is truly amusing." Out of professional instinct, the reporters wanted to snap photos, but soon they all tacitly lowered their cameras, lamenting internally that such an image could not be documented and published. Rage surfaced on Regional Chief Harry's face. Waving his hand forward, he commanded: "Seize him." The Regional Chief had issued a direct order. At this moment, Karen's status and prestige were completely neutralized. From all directions swarmed a large group of battle priests, and even Old Koya and his men ended their bystander status to join in, preparing to apprehend Karen. Alfred smiled. "Why are you just standing there? It's time to strike a pose. Don't worry about the lack of photos; I will paint this scene afterward." Muri held his blade in his right hand and raised his round shield with his left, taking up a defensive stance beside Karen. Philomena's feet hovered off the ground, the Nightmare Blade spinning around her. Alfred stood behind Karen with hands clasped in front of him, looking utterly calm, even finding the leisure to shift his footing slightly to catch the best lighting. Ventura let out another low growl and flicked Minister Kodal's butt once more with his finger, as if playing with a rubber shrieking chicken. *Thwack!* "Aaaagh!!" Watching this spectacle, Minister Bernie was caught between laughter and tears. "Am I dreaming? You're actually doing something this brainless?" Karen shook his head. "Don't be in a rush. What comes next will feel even more like a dream." *Buzz, buzz, buzz!!* A rapid series of whistling roars tore through the sky, immediately causing everyone below to look up instinctively. Above the Whip of Order headquarters building, dozens of falcons suddenly swooped down and began circling at low altitude. Sharp, glinting crossbow bolts were nocked, and the amplification formations on the falcons' underbellies were already primed—they were locked in full combat posture. *Clatter, clatter, clatter!! Clatter, clatter, clatter!!* Clad in black armor and mounted on undead warhorses, garrison knights appeared from the plaza entrance, the parking lot entrance, and even vaulted straight over the perimeter walls. They rapidly assembled into eight battle formations, primed for a charge. From bishops down to ordinary priests, everyone was dumbfounded by the spectacle before their eyes. Because in the entire history of the church... this was the first time the garrison had stormed into the Whip of Order headquarters. Karen looked at Minister Bernie standing before him and said: "Now you can dream."