His Condition!

Walking out of the cemetery, the two of them stood by the front gate. Karen looked at Neo and asked, "When are you coming back to work?" Neo replied dismissively, "I'm still a poor patient. Since when has the Church of Order become so absurd that it exploits even critically injured employees?" "The Church of Order exploits even the dead. What do you think?" "Ahem..." "We're very busy right now and short on hands." "Hey, you can handle this matter on your own. What's the point of dragging me into it? What if you mess up? The higher-ups aren't fools either. If they strip you of your post and throw you into prison, someone has to keep their position just to bring you flour and seasonings, right?" "Flour and seasonings?" "To make oil-splashed noodles. Didn't you bring a bowl down to visit me last time? I don't know how to cook them, so I'd have to bring you the ingredients so you can make them yourself." "And after I cook them, do I have to hand them to you first so you can hand them back to me?" "I'll carry them up first, then carry them down. That way, there's a proper sense of ritual." "Heh. Right, what was that spell about?" "Which spell?" "'Proper Burial.'" "Oh, just a name I came up with on the spot. No special meaning. Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. By the way, what about Bern? Bern had a great relationship with Wolflen too, not worse than yours. What did he say?" "He's like you—he felt having two people do this together would be a waste." "True. Knowing him, he probably wouldn't want to get involved anyway. After all, he's a man capable of giving away his own flesh-and-blood son. Alright, I still want to continue my vacation. I have a few things I need to deal with." "Going out of town?" "Still in Wien, but not in Yorktown. Anyway, if you need me, send me a message. I'll head back immediately." "Alright." "Still, have you thought of what method to use?" "I'll take my time. There's still time." "Don't go with the most extreme method. Cover your tracks a little." "I know." "Then I'm off. Good night." Neo's figure dissolved into a cloud of blood mist and dispersed in an instant, departing with great haste, as though dreading that Karen might pull him back. Karen felt Neo had grown wild-hearted. In the past, he had never seen Neo take the initiative to request leave and shirk work; back then, the Hound Squad's captain had possessed immense zeal for his duties. Was it because he had borrowed Leon's coupons last time to trade on leverage and won a huge fortune? Karen felt this was highly likely. Once he made money, he slacked off at work; only if he suffered a disastrous loss would he stand on the rooftop to cool his head, then throw himself into work with unmatched fervor to earn coupons and pay off his debts. After a moment of hesitation, Karen ultimately returned to the Ankara Hotel. The reason he chose not to go home was that Purr wasn't there. Without Purr, home felt no different from a hotel. He booked a room, checked in, took a bath, and slept. It was currently during an assignment, so as a minister, Karen's room and board were covered by mission expenses. In fact, even without an assignment, Karen's position included paid vacation benefits that theoretically allowed him to stay at the Ankara Hotel for free for a period of time. However, few high-ranking priests in Yorktown would waste their vacation within their own region; it was far better to take a publicly funded teleportation circle to scenic regions and properly unwind. When Karen woke up, he originally wanted to order room service, but suddenly realized that if he did, it would likely be one of his own Whip of Order subordinates handling security who wheeled in the dining cart. That wouldn't do. So after washing up, he headed down to the restaurant in person. There weren't many people in the restaurant, but the food was plentiful. When Karen entered, a waiter came over specifically to attend to him, just like the previous evening. Once he was seated, dishes tailored to his preferred tastes were served. As he was eating, Alfred walked over, followed by Head Bishop Bern's attendant. "Young Master, this is the fruit sent to you by the Head Bishop." Last night, Bern had mentioned sending him some fruit as a token of comfort. Karen glanced at the large crate and said to Alfred, "Take it up to my room and inspect it." Naturally, Bern wouldn't just send fruit. He wasn't participating in the matter, but he would provide assistance. "Yes, Young Master." After finishing breakfast, Karen was about to take the elevator back to his room when he happened to see Alfred stepping out of it. "Come, let's talk in the conference hall." Karen led Alfred to the conference hall. At this moment, personnel involved in the conference were entering, and the venue was being set up. Taking a seat in a corner, Alfred took out three envelopes, let Karen glance at them, and put them away. Evidently, he knew full well that his young master's trust in him was such that Karen couldn't even be bothered to open the letters and read them. "Young Master, the three envelopes represent three addresses. One is the secret office of the Church of the Desert in this region, containing contact methods." Karen shook his head and said, "Approaching them is pointless." Although the Church of the Desert and the Desert Church had not yet officially split, relations between them had deteriorated to the point of complete incompatibility, with civil war on the verge of erupting. Reasonably speaking, the Church of the Desert certainly didn't want the Desert faction to gain the support of Order. But expecting the Church of the Desert to send people to carry out an assassination on Order's territory at a time like this... they wouldn't be so foolish. During the previous escort of Luther's entourage to the Ankara Hotel, it was hard to say how many of the attackers in that ambush were genuine Church of the Desert believers and how many were Desert believers playing the part. According to the unwritten conventions of the church circles, carrying out an assassination once someone had reached a venue like a hotel meant tearing off all pretense of civility; ambushes en route, by contrast, enjoyed a higher degree of tolerance. "I thought so as well. They have no reason to act now, nor could they possibly strike. At present, the relationship between Order and the Desert remains confidential and undisclosed. No reporters were invited to this conference, nor will any public statement be released afterward. If the Church of the Desert took the initiative to blow the lid off this, it would truly force Order to intervene." "And the second address?" "Er, the second address is the secret office of the Light remnants under our command." "Then the first two were just to make up numbers. What Bern truly intended for me must be the third." "The third location is... an Inquisition office in the suburbs of Yorktown. Below the envelope, an excerpt of doctrine was attached, very similar to the content spoken in the scenes you saw through that quill when you went to the knight order's affiliated hospital for your medical examination." "Fundamentalist Order believers?" "Yes. This should be Head Bishop Bern's suggestion: using fundamentalist believers within our church to accomplish this murder with a borrowed knife." "Mm." Karen nodded. "I feel this suggestion is the most suitable. Between the Church of the Desert and the Light remnants, one is unrealistic, while the other would implicate us. Even if executed flawlessly, it would only look acceptable on the surface, but the higher-ups could tell at a glance who orchestrated it. "However, if we can make use of these people, the nature of the incident and the scrutiny from above afterward will no longer fall upon you. "Most importantly, this is something they would love and be willing to do. They have always adhered to archaic doctrine, so a faction that assassinated the family of a Head Bishop daring to seek Order's support is something they cannot tolerate. "Furthermore, they would likely publicize the matter through their own channels to achieve their political aim of striking a blow against the higher-ups. "All we need to do is inform them of the truth." Karen's eyes showed deep thought as the image of the old man responsible for the faith examination at the knight order's affiliated hospital surfaced in his mind. His name was Davins. Then Karen shook his head. "Does Young Master feel something is amiss?" "There's a major problem. And that problem lies with..." Karen pointed a finger at himself. "Young Master..." "You believe they have a motive to act, and you're not wrong. But they aren't fools. Everything requires weighing the cost. For example, even if they learned the truth, the reason they might be unwilling to act is likely that... I am the minister in charge of security for this conference. "In such a short time, how could we convince them that not only will I not intervene, but I'll even give them the green light? "If it were anyone else, they might maneuver and find an opportunity. I even suspect they had a hand in the ambush the Moon God Church suffered here last time. "Yet precisely because it's me, from their perspective, the room to maneuver is very slim, because of my reputation..." "I failed to consider that." Certain winds could only be felt from a particular position or height. Karen rarely involved himself in specific tasks day to day, but his sense of the wind's direction had always been sharp. "Actually, Bern already gave me a suggestion. His intention is for me to communicate with them personally and forge a partnership." "However, if that's the case..." "Are you worried the cost is too great? After all, associating with that crowd carries tremendous risk." "Yes, Young Master. You also seem to have always disliked them." "I wouldn't call it dislike. It's just that from the beginning, I knew we weren't on the same path, which is why I specifically instructed you not to make contact with them back then. But circumstances are different now. In this matter, unless I step forward in person, the other side won't be willing to act. Let's grasp the primary contradiction first; as for future entanglements, we can deal with them later." "So Young Master has decided to go in person to seek cooperation?" "Mm. When all is said and done, they are still Order believers, not people from an outside church." "Young Master speaks truly." Alfred and Karen both fell silent for a moment. There was something both understood clearly: sometimes, compared to conflicts with outside churches, the ideological struggle within one's own church could prove far more vicious and irreconcilable. "Go to this Inquisition office now and request a meeting on my behalf. I want to see Davins. I imagine that with my current standing, that Master would be willing to meet me. Heh, after all, I'm an examinee with a perfect score in faith." "Yes, Young Master." Alfred got up and left the conference room. At that moment, the conference officially commenced. At the conference table ahead, the delegation from the Dinge Region and the Desert representatives led by Luther and Elanga were engaged in discussions, while other personnel from both sides below took notes and prepared to provide information and documents. For the entire morning, Karen sat in the conference room listening, and he finally understood why the higher-ups had changed their minds. Because the Desert faction... was truly willing to completely become Order's dogs just to break away from the Church of the Desert, and the most undignified kind at that. In fact, the conference outline even contained a five-hundred-year plan projecting that five hundred years later, the Desert Church would merge into Order and become an offshoot of Order. No matter how small a church was, its demand for autonomy was exceptionally high; even affiliated churches retained autonomy. Yet the Desert Church seemed entirely prepared to skin and debone itself, serving itself up on a platter for Order to feast upon. A possibility crossed Karen's mind: the Desert Church might be gambling—gambling that when the gods returned, they would alter the entire existing landscape. Still, did the High Priest know about this? Did he agree to it as well? This seemed like the High Priest's style—to wage struggles for power and profit; yet it also didn't seem like his style, for he himself was extraordinarily aloof and proud. A truly contradictory existence. At lunchtime, the meeting recessed temporarily. Karen stood up and walked out of the conference hall. Luther took the initiative to walk toward Karen, even waving his hand. "Minister Karen, would you care to have lunch together?" "My apologies, I have official duties to attend to." "Oh, what a pity. I originally wanted to ask for your thoughts on this morning's agenda." "I feel everything looks very smooth." "Yes, very smooth indeed." "Then I will take my leave. Let us find another opportunity next time." "Your official duties come first." *Indeed. My official duty is to negotiate a partnership to ensure you all stay here forever.* Karen's gaze moved from Luther's face to Elanga's. If they were the ones who sent the assassin, then the assassin's targets must have been designated by them as well. After slaughtering Wolflen's family that night, the assassin's very next stop had been Karen's front door. That meant they had placed his name on the assassination hit list too. At the time, though he hadn't held his current position, he had already been quite famous among the younger generation. Exiting the conference hall, Karen took the elevator down to the hotel's ground floor. Not long after walking out of the hotel, a black raven began circling above him. It couldn't fly inside the hotel, so it could only reach him once he stepped outside. Unfolding the message, he saw it was indeed from Alfred: the meeting had been arranged, and Davins would meet with him in person. The black paper burned to ashes in Karen's hand. Instead of walking further out, he hailed a carriage at the hotel entrance, which took him to a café with all possible speed. As Karen prepared to pay the fare, the coachman bowed and said, "My Lord, it can be billed to your account." This was a form of mutual arrangement among various institutional departments, with accounts settled at year's end or before an audit began. It was just that in the past, Karen hadn't qualified for such privileges. "You recognize me?" "Of course, Minister Karen, My Lord." "Mm." Karen stepped down from the carriage and entered the café. A waiter walked over and said softly, "Please follow me, My Lord." Karen followed the waiter upstairs into a room. To his surprise, it contained a short-distance teleportation circle, and the walls were coated with specialized materials. Such materials were extremely expensive, designed to minimize the fluctuations emitted by the teleportation circle as much as possible. Of course, this only worked for short-distance teleportation; with long-distance teleportation, the fluctuations of the formation were virtually impossible to conceal completely. "My Lord, please stand in the central area." Without hesitation, Karen stepped into the center. Soon, the formation activated, enfolding him in white light. When the glow dissipated, Karen found himself standing in a vintage living room. There was no one in the room, but through the window, he could see a tea table and two chairs set out on the lawn outside. *Click.* The living room door opened, and Alfred stood there. "Young Master, I have confirmed that no one else is in this area. Mr. Davins has come alone to meet you." "Mm, he seems far more open and aboveboard than I am." Was he truly not afraid that Karen might take his head to claim a bounty? Karen walked out of the living room into the garden, while Alfred remained by the door. This appeared to be a villa in the Yorktown suburbs; the surroundings were deserted, quiet, and desolate. Davins stood up, looking at Karen with a smile. "Minister Karen, I swear, back when I conducted your physical examination, I never imagined we would meet like this in the future." "Neither did I." "Please, sit." "Thank you." There were three cups on the table; one of them was presumably Alfred's. "I had a chat with your valet just now. I find him very interesting." "Is that so? It sounds like you had an engaging conversation." "Indeed. An interesting soul always carries a fresh breeze. That is why I look forward to speaking with you; I believe an excellent valet inevitably inherits his master's thoughts." "Then you may be disappointed. I didn't come to discuss ideology and theory with you." "Is it that matter? Your valet has already informed me. I must say, you truly trust him." "He is one of the few people in this world I trust the most." "It certainly shows." Davins lifted his teacup and took a sip. "I am very willing to cooperate with you. The specifics of the plan can be left to our subordinates to negotiate. You relax security, and I will send people to kill." "You agreed that readily?" "Because this way, we can save enough time to talk about the breeze, haha. Or rather, compared to this matter itself, what I value more is friendship with you, Minister Karen." "Friendship? My apologies, I don't particularly care for that word. What I would rather hear is your condition. I believe our relationship is better kept strictly to a simple partnership." "As you wish. Then may I state my condition?" "Go ahead. I'll listen closely." "Perhaps you could wash your ears with tea." "Hmm?" "It seems you are unaware of a trend that has recently arisen. Among the prominent figures in the upper echelon of the Dinge Region, this kind of performance art has become quite fashionable lately. Washing one's ears signifies listening with utmost devotion, commonly seen between superiors and subordinates on close terms." "Well, that's certainly a novel trend." "Trends are like that sometimes: they spring up out of nowhere, and then vanish just as mysteriously." "True, but you seem to have strayed from the subject." "You truly are impatient, haha. Very well, Minister Karen. My condition is that if one day..." Davins sighed, then turned his head and looked directly into Karen's eyes, continuing, "...if one day, it is you who are tasked with purging us, please, so long as it does not place you in an impossible position, lift your hand just enough to let a few fish slip through the net, so that we... might preserve a few seeds."