The Orthodox Church's Bizarre Actions

Swish! Bracing one hand against the car seat, the woman flipped sideways with remarkable agility. With a flick of her other hand, a pistol slipped out, its muzzle leveling straight at Karen's forehead. Karen remained seated where he was, staring down the dark barrel without the slightest flicker of fear in his heart. It was a spell pistol capable of firing rounds imbued with elemental attributes. Judging by the frame's construction, however, it had clearly been modified in the black market. Furthermore, to make it compatible with multiple elemental rounds, its structural design had been downgraded, severely compromising both performance and durability. Back when Karen had first officially become an external member of a Whip of Order squad, the lowest-tier spell pistol Fanny had taken him to collect was of far better quality than this. And back then, Fanny had told him that everything in the gear pack except the clerical robes could be fenced on the black market. One could only say that although both were at the bottom rung, there was still a world of difference between being on the church payroll and having no standing at all. Now, the woman faced two choices: shoot, or don't shoot. Shooting meant walking a path to destruction with no turning back. Not shooting... she would actually receive exceptionally high surrender privileges as a wanted aberrant demon. After all, how many wanted criminals ever had the privilege of surrendering directly to the Head of the Whip of Order's Law Enforcement Department? Dropping her seductive facade, the woman swallowed with difficulty, locked in an agonizing internal struggle. A mini-fridge with a built-in magic array was a luxury Neo had installed purely to show off, but whoever was qualified to enjoy such flashy perks could never be an ordinary priest. After all, how much was an ordinary Inquisitor's stipend? Looking again at this handsome man, who remained perfectly composed before her dark muzzle without any sign of feigning bravery, the woman had a sinking premonition: the instant she pulled the trigger, her end would be unimaginably miserable. Sometimes, a person's life or death truly hinged on a split-second decision, relying even on sheer intuition. Clack! The woman tossed the spell pistol onto the seat beside her. Immediately after, she asked in an exceedingly humble tone, "What... what should I do next?" "Get up." "Right away." The woman rose from Karen's lap, no longer daring to strike any alluring pose. Karen reached out to grab the bottle of red wine, took a glass from the fridge, and popped the cork with a flick of his fingertips. Pop. After pouring a glass of wine, he offered it to the woman. A smile instantly broke across her face. Thinking this was some kind of invitation, her coquettish charm began to surface again, only for Karen's voice to cut in: "Hold the glass, step outside, and kneel." "Oh." Holding the glass of wine, the woman opened the door, stepped out of the car, and shut the door behind her. At this moment, another choice lay before her: truly kneel... or run? She drained the glass in one gulp, instantly savoring the wine's remarkable vintage, and knelt down without a second thought. Neo had installed the fridge, but Alfred was the one in charge of stocking the drinks. The wine was high-grade, quite expensive even, but Alfred knew his young master disliked drinking. Therefore, the bottle was not truly expensive in practice, as it could theoretically serve as a long-standing prop on permanent duty. Karen poured himself half a glass of ice water and took two sips. Behind them, Inquisitor Dake, Richard, and four servants came running up in a hurry. Their pursuit hadn't gone entirely smoothly, but it couldn't be counted as a failure either, because Karen could sense the scent of Richard's Little Jerry on the woman. Richard had evidently marked her already. It was said that combat brought out one's potential best, and ever since Little Jerry had followed Richard, it had indeed proven the truth of that adage. Dake pointed at the woman and shouted, "Apprehend her!" Two servants immediately stepped forward and clamped special shackles onto the woman. Karen pushed open the car door and stepped down. Dake rushed over at once. "Minister Karen, sorry to trouble you with this." Karen shook his head. "It was nothing. She ran right into me." Hearing the title "Minister," the woman froze for an instant before crying out frantically, "I have something to say! I have something to say!" Karen looked at her and raised a hand, signaling the two servants preparing to haul her away to pause for a moment. She deserved at least a small reward for her previous obedience. "I'm innocent, I'm not guilty! I did cause the deaths of a few vagrants, and I did drain their blood-vitality, but before doing that, I asked for their consent! I treated them to a hearty meal, and they agreed to trade their lives for one final bout of pleasure before dying! "I'm not guilty! They were willing, and they were all deeply grateful to me! Truly, I swear it!" It sounded like a remarkably self-consistent defense. Vagrants already lived miserable lives, many among them ruined bankrupts. Winter was especially brutal to endure. Rather than freezing, starving, or dying of disease in the dark of some future night, it was better to have a good meal and one last bit of joy while still in their right minds. In a secular court, faced with such an account, the judge, jury, and public opinion would likely have wavered, because everyone could empathize with that plight. Yet this line of reasoning was utterly useless in the Church of Order. The Code of Order had an explicit clause: The use of magic to harm ordinary people is forbidden. This female aberrant demon had inflicted substantive harm on ordinary people, which constituted a direct violation of the Code of Order. As for those vagrants, the Church of Order would not step in to save them. Many of them would indeed die quietly tonight, tomorrow night, or before spring arrived, but Order did not permit them to be killed by aberrant demons or church believers. Even if they were willing. This might sound cold, cruel, rigid, and dogmatic, but whether they were willing or not carried no weight here. Because once such an opening was permitted, the secular ruling classes would have a thousand ways to make people at the bottom "voluntarily" surrender whatever was needed, packaging it so that the lower classes believed it was for their own good and willingly tearing away the moral shackles meant to restrain evil. In the previous era, when the God of Samsara constructed the Gate of Samsara, in order to fill it with souls, a catastrophic event had occurred where more than half the population of a secular nation committed mass suicide within a single week to enter a glorious afterlife ahead of time. Were they willing? Indeed they were. Even as they took their own lives, they had smiles on their faces. Then they became the first generation of inhabitants within the Gate of Samsara... No, the souls of ordinary people weren't even considered inhabitants in there; they were merely soul fertilizer. Later, records showed that the God of Order approached the God of Light to lodge a complaint against the God of Samsara, yet the God of Light merely tried to smooth things over. Scholars of church history widely believed that it was these recurring incidents that continuously deepened the rift between Order and Light, eventually leading to their complete rupture in the latter half of the previous era. Karen spoke: "You are guilty." With that, Karen waved his hand, signaling that she could be taken away. Seeing this, the woman seemed to make up her mind and shouted at once, "I want to earn merit! I have information to report! I was working for the Church of the Abyss!" Hearing the Church of the Abyss, Dake's expression shifted slightly. As a grassroots Inquisitor, he was instinctively cautious when dealing with "diplomatic incidents." Yet the man standing beside him... had abundant experience dancing around diplomatic affairs. Karen looked down at the woman kneeling before him and asked, "Are you trying to threaten me with the Church of the Abyss?" The woman shook her head vigorously. "No, I'm reporting them! The only reason I gathered blood-vitality here was to fulfill a mission for the Church of the Abyss!" Just then, Richard, standing behind them, reached out and jabbed Inquisitor Dake in the ribs a few times. Inquisitor Dake stumbled, nearly pitching forward. Richard turned to look at the streetlamp beside him, pursing his lips and whistling soundlessly. Inquisitor Dake finally caught on and said to Karen, "Minister Karen, why don't we escort her back to the inquisitorial office for interrogation first?" He then added, "Once the preliminary findings are out, I will submit a formal report to you." This case had been uncovered by Dake's office, and now that an outside church was implicated, its nature had changed completely. Yet regardless of how the matter unfolded in the future, the source of the final report would undoubtedly be Dake's office. Richard's thought was very simple: he wanted his uncle-in-law to push the case forward while Karen was right there, allowing him to quickly secure merit without worrying about bureaucratic squabbling or having the credit snatched away. It was a way of... looking out for family. His uncle-in-law was just a bit slow. Any other Inquisitor would have known how to cling to such a powerful backer and share in the glory right away, rather than needing him to drop a hint. Karen naturally noticed the subtle interaction. But for one, he had nothing else going on tonight and had caught up on sleep; for another, the family connection was right there. When a favor could be easily granted, there was no reason to refuse, and it complied with the Code of Order without compromising any principles. "Alright." Karen nodded and stepped back into the car. Inquisitor Dake led his servants to drag the female aberrant demon toward another small truck. "Boss, was that Minister Karen? Heavens, he's so young! He must be years younger than me, right?" "Yeah, and what an aura. Standing in front of him, I didn't even dare look up, I could only keep my head down." Dake swept a glare over them and snapped, "Hurry up and get the truck moving. We need to press on with the interrogation. We've finally landed a big catch that can bring us real merit, and we don't have to worry about anyone stealing it." Richard slid into the driver's seat and started the engine again. "Um, Karen, I'm sorry." "It's fine." "I just wanted to help my uncle-in-law get a promotion. He's already at the lowest grade of Inquisitor. If he drops any further, he'll become a probationary Inquisitor, which would be far too humiliating. "Karen, you don't know this, but the superior overseeing my uncle's district, and that superior's superior—the figure above their faction was actually a Bishop who oversaw the array department of this region. My grandfather never had any intention of competing with him, but my grandfather's very presence was a threat to him. Even without him giving explicit orders, the people below naturally took sides and made moves against us. "So after my uncle-in-law married my aunt, he didn't actually gain much advantage from my family. Instead, he got dragged down, constantly targeted and suppressed by his peers. "Now that Bishop has fallen, and my grandfather became a Bishop himself. But as you know, my grandfather would never deliberately promote family. He has too many principles. "I just feel that my uncle-in-law has what it takes to be an excellent Inquisitor, right?" "Yes." "Thank you, Karen." "Why are you talking so much tonight?" "I just felt a bit embarrassed. After all, however you look at it, I was pulling strings for a relative." Karen chuckled softly and looked out the car window. Who wasn't doing the same? ... Inquisitor Dake lived in a terraced townhouse. Across the street was a small funeral parlor—not owned by Dake, though he held shares in it. Thus, a proverb had long circulated in church circles: *Hey, friend, are you looking for an Order believer? Go to the town's funeral parlor! If the owner isn't one, then go knock on his neighbor's door!* The group entered the house, the aberrant demon led in behind them in chains. Karen's maternal aunt, Lucie, had already changed into casual home attire after returning. Though her young daughter was already so grown, as a mother, she still managed to project a sweet, gentle air. This indicated that her domestic life was very happy, truly cherished by her husband like a little princess. From this perspective, Aunt Lucie's choice was almost identical to Grandmother's. One only lived once; some chose to pursue glorious, tempestuous careers, while others chose to live peaceful, happy lives. It was simply a matter of different choices, for happiness was never cast in a single mold. Lucie had looked perfectly composed when she first saw the demon, as such occurrences were inevitable in this household. She even instructed several servants to escort the demon down to the basement interrogation room. The servants responded, "Yes, My Lady." They didn't dare address her as "the boss's wife." Yet when she looked up again and saw that Karen had also arrived, she froze briefly. First bowing politely to Karen, she immediately turned around, hurried back into her room, and emerged wearing her Order clerical robes. Her demeanor had also reverted to how it had been when they first met—a touch aloof, a touch stern. That was also when Karen and Richard had met for the first time. The Church Affairs Building had collapsed, and she had appeared on the scene, studying him with a stern, scrutinizing gaze, fearful that he was someone with impure motives deliberately approaching Richard. Now, although they belonged to different departments and had no direct subordinate relationship, Karen, as a powerful department head within the district's Whip of Order, held a higher rank than Lucie. Moreover, this wasn't the Guman household, without Grandmother and Delon present. Lucie was inevitably a bit constrained facing him. Of course, if she knew that the young man before her was her nephew, she probably wouldn't have bothered to change into clerical robes. Dake leaned in and whispered something into his wife's ear. Lucie nodded, and when she looked back at Karen, her gaze held a hint of gratitude. She knew Karen was helping her husband. As a Jurist, her status was quite high, but because of Delon, and out of consideration for her husband's self-esteem, she rarely intervened directly in his work. At times, seeing her husband being marginalized, excluded, and demoted in Inquisitor rank, she worried deeply. This arrangement was wonderful; if her husband could connect with Karen, it would not only bypass the psychological barrier concerning her family, but also make his career much smoother and more secure. Lucie called out, "Lucia, come pour some tea." The young cousin, Lucia, stepped out. When she saw Karen sitting there, a clear smile lit up her face. What young girl wouldn't like a handsome, bright older brother? Yet Lucia's fondness for Karen was very innocent, purely drawn to his looks and demeanor, without any other designs. When they first met, Delon had asked about Karen's marital status, hinting at matchmaking his granddaughter with this remarkable youth. Back then, Karen had answered that he already had a fiancée, and Lucia had breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Still, Grandfather probably wouldn't try to play matchmaker anymore... Hmm? Wait. It seemed that in Wien, marriage between cousins was also quite common. "Minister Karen, your tea." "Thank you." Karen took the teacup from Lucia's hands. Lucia turned around, visibly quickening her pace to put distance between herself and Karen. "What's wrong with her?" Karen asked Richard, who was sipping tea beside him, after taking a sip of his own. "She's scared of you." "Scared of me?" "Of course," Richard said matter-of-factly. "You have no idea how terrifying you seem right now. My grandmother is about the only person you ever relax around." Next came the wait for the interrogation. Halfway through, Lucie personally took to the kitchen and prepared a late-night snack—sandwich-like food slathered with Wien bean paste. Lucie said apologetically, "I'm very sorry, Minister Karen. Normally, my husband is the one who cooks for the family." At the moment, Dake was busy interrogating the aberrant demon. "It's fine. It's very delicious." Karen took a bite of the sandwich in front of Lucie, doing his best not to let his brow furrow. Finally, Dake's interrogation concluded, and he brought up the transcripts in high excitement. Looking over the written notes, Karen's brow—which hadn't furrowed even while eating the bean paste—knitted tightly. These interrogation notes were an absolute mess. Yet this wasn't due to incompetence on Dake's part; it was simply that Alfred and Vic beside Karen were far too professional. Eventually, he finished reading: The Church of the Abyss had recently acquired an upscale manor in Yorktown. This manor was open exclusively to high society, providing a wide variety of services—including, naturally, carnal ones. An orthodox church had suddenly opened a brothel? They weren't some minor congregation like the Church of Mills, and in Mills' case, that was part of their church tradition. The Abyss, however, was a truly prominent orthodox church. If it had been open to church circles to earn church coupons, that would have been somewhat understandable. Yet it wasn't open to church circles at all, only to ordinary mortals. Furthermore, they had actually assigned their own personnel to serve as workers there, requiring them to utilize magic arrays and containment vessels inside the rooms to gather the blood-vitality of their clients during intimacy. They wouldn't drain a person dry all at once, taking only a third, and would serve a restorative tonic afterward to keep the matter under wraps. But why go out of their way to do this in Yorktown? Wouldn't doing it in their own sphere of influence be far safer? Moreover, making believers—no, making their own priests serve as sex workers catering to ordinary mortals—was the Church of the Abyss contemplating an industry pivot?! Most absurd of all, Why had this female aberrant demon been caught? Because she lacked the aid of the magic arrays and special containers possessed by those priest-workers in the manor, let alone the means to provide restorative tonics to her victims. As a result, her extraction carried an extremely high mortality rate. Why had she been doing this in the first place? Because the mastermind behind the Church of the Abyss's Yorktown liaison office had imposed a blood-vitality collection quota on each priest-worker in the manor—essentially a client-servicing quota. One of the Abyss priests, whether due to lack of ability or reluctant pride, had actually decided to outsource the quota that had fallen onto her shoulders. So this female aberrant demon... had actually been a... Subcontractor.