It's Not Like He'd Beat Me to Death!

"Minister, based on the clues we've gathered so far, we can roughly outline the following four elements... Oh, thank you." Vic took the teacup from Lucie, then casually took a few ice cubes from the thermos on the coffee table and dropped them into the hot tea. Lucie noticed this. As the former High Priest's student... even someone like him behaved this way in front of Karen. Taking two polite sips of tea, Vic continued: "The first element is location. Yorktown—no, all of Wien, in fact—is traditionally within our Church of Order's sphere of influence. Especially lately, when so many major events have taken place in Yorktown, the Church of the Abyss's Yorktown Liaison Office still chose to conduct this operation here. That means whatever they intend to do is restricted to Wien and its surrounding waters." Dake, who had just returned after retrieving the records, instinctively asked, "Doesn't that make the scope wider? Why would it be limited to Yorktown? There are other cities, after all." Vic's brow furrowed. He felt an instinctive aversion to having his report interrupted. *Why, why, why?* *Am I doing work or teaching a class?* Vic was of unique status, and his good attitude depended entirely on who he was dealing with. Only before Karen and Alfred would he appear humble. In that sense, Vic was actually a bit like Philomena. Karen looked at Dake and answered, "Because across all of Wien, the vast majority of genuine artists—and those who believe themselves to be genuine artists—are in Yorktown." Vic immediately realized that using this place as a temporary office hadn't been a random coincidence. Putting on a warm smile at once, he said to Dake, "Haha, that's precisely why." "Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I'm very sorry. Please continue." Dake also realized his interruption had been rather abrupt. "The second element is time. While we don't yet know their purpose in harvesting the blood-vitality of these so-called 'artists,' they are clearly in a great hurry. In particular, setting quotas like this is enough to show they are racing against the clock. "The third element is motive. For the Church of the Abyss to dispatch its own priests to serve as hospitality staff proves this matter is of tremendous value—valuable enough for priests, who generally consider themselves above ordinary mortals, to stoop to serving regular people. "The fourth element is... the target. "This peculiar requirement is rather difficult for me to understand. I believe it needs blood-vitality, but the additional conditions are simply..." Karen spoke up: "It isn't human." Vic's eyes focused. He immediately raised his hand, as if trying to grasp something, and said, "Then... an artifact spirit?" Karen glanced down at the cigarette butt inside the teacup. Earlier, he had used that cigarette to attempt a simulation. For the Church of the Abyss to pull something like this on Order's turf, and for the party with the demand to make such unreasonable requests, it could only prove one thing: the demanding party was immature. Before the Church of Order, practically the entire ecclesiastical circle had to be rational. Only with a newborn baby could you not reason; you had no choice but to bite the bullet and coax it—such as... a newly birthed artifact spirit. Although most of the intelligence came from the confession of a low-level aberrant demon, quite a few premises had already been established beforehand, making such a guess perfectly reasonable. Vic licked his lips and said, "The Church of the Abyss, a newborn artifact spirit... In other words, they acquired a divine artifact here, or at least a sacred artifact comparable to one." The grading of divine artifacts was very complicated, and the same went for sacred artifacts. Some damaged divine artifacts might truly fall short of a pristine, top-grade sacred artifact in terms of power. Regardless, for an orthodox church to pull something like this on Order's territory was more than enough proof of its value. Karen raised a finger. "I have one more point to add. For any sacred or divine artifacts left behind in Wien or the waters surrounding Wien, our Church of Order holds priority of ownership." Vic nodded at once. "In the operational report and the notification to the Regional Chief and the Head Bishop, I will frame our statement along those lines." After all, this involved foreign affairs. First and foremost, they had to establish a righteous stance. That would facilitate subsequent actions and avert future complications. "Good, let's proceed that way. You will draft the broad operational plan." "Yes, Minister. But I would like a few more pointers, and hope you can offer some guidance." "Three points: First, arrange to release the captured female aberrant demon. Use the opportunity to trace the transaction route and prepare to reel in the net later. Second, the launching point of this mission is right here; we must hold firmly to the fact that the Tribunal uncovered this aberrant demon's disturbance as the source of the incident, which will give us diplomatic leverage. Third, tomorrow I will personally go to that salon to conduct reconnaissance." Vic noted down every point, then stood up and said, "Please rest assured, Minister. I will arrange everything properly. Once the initial draft is prepared, I will hand it to Mr. Alfred for review." "Yes, that works." "One last question: Do you plan to go on the reconnaissance alone?" "No, with another person." Vic instinctively puffed out his chest, but quickly realized something was off—he had already been assigned his duties. "Originally, I planned to ask you along, but right now, there's a more suitable candidate." Ever since Richard joined the Hound Squad and was exposed to the adult concept of 'pastry shops,' he had been obsessively investigating the secrets of all pastry shops in private in his quest to prove he was grown up, regardless of whether they were high-end or low-class. Yet Karen knew very well that this fellow wasn't going there to sleep with women or do that sort of thing; he was more like someone experiencing life and making friends... like a painter sketching from nature. Was it a lack of maternal love? Because his parents' relationship had been at a freezing point for so long, had he suffered a constant lack of affection? That didn't seem right either. Delon and Madame Tangli treated him quite well, and looking at Richard's lively personality, did he show even the slightest hint of childhood trauma? So, he might genuinely just enjoy the atmosphere of such places. What a pity he had become a priest; otherwise, he truly could have traveled the world and written a *Guide to Pastry Shop Flavors*. Of course, if he actually did that, his entire family, grandmother included, would probably mobilize en masse to break his legs and tether him at home with a dog chain. Regardless, appointing his cousin as the office director in charge of intelligence gathering had truly been the right call. He had actually anticipated the mission location and secured membership cards in advance. Vic folded a black paper crow; he needed to summon the personnel he required. Karen stood up and asked Lucie, "Could you arrange a guest room for me?" "Oh, of course. It's an honor for our home." Lucie immediately led Karen to a guest room on the second floor, which was tidied up very cleanly. "Minister Karen, do you need anything else?" "Nothing else, thank you. Also, my apologies—your living room might be a bit noisy shortly." "Please don't say that. My husband and I are deeply grateful to you." Lucie had overheard the discussion in the living room earlier. If this matter truly involved an existence of that caliber, the merit would be extraordinarily substantial, and her husband might genuinely achieve a career breakthrough because of it. Though assisted by a 'benefactor,' the incident had indeed originated from her husband's investigation. He had conducted meticulous examinations on every corpse received by the funeral parlor across the street. He had earned these clues through his own diligent work. "Um..." "Is there something else?" "Minister Karen, I plan to take leave tomorrow. I'd like to stay home and see if I can help out a bit." "You don't need to take leave." "But..." "Vic will issue a request for assistance, asking the district's Formation Department to dispatch some array masters to assist in completing the mission." "Thank you." "Don't mention it." "Minister Karen, I'm quite curious..." "Curious about what?" "No, it's nothing. Please get some good rest." Closing the door, Karen lay down on the bed. He wasn't actually sleepy, but as the team's leader, his job was already done. To give himself more of a sense of participation, he had even arranged the undercover reconnaissance mission for himself. For now, the only thing he could do was find a quiet place to stay so he wouldn't interfere with his subordinates' work. Images of that night on Mink Street began surfacing in his mind. In his 'dream,' he had been lying on the grass, with a woman to his left and a man to his right. He had told them that he wasn't really their son, yet they had still chosen to help him. Otherwise, Raniedal might have retaken 'his' body that night before Diss ever detained him. Karen knew very well that he felt affection for Madame Tangli; she had always cared for and protected him. As for the rest of the Guman family, in many cases, Karen only accommodated them out of respect for that 'woman.' She had protected him before an evil god just like a mother protecting her son. He owed her, and he could only repay her through the Guman family. *Knock, knock!* A knock sounded at the door. "Come in." Richard pushed the door open and stepped in with a grin. "Heh heh, Karen, I knew you weren't asleep yet. I brought all the files over; Vic and the others are already using them." "Mm. Did you bring the membership cards?" "Brought them." Richard pulled out two cards. "You carry them on you?" "How could I? I keep them in my office drawer. You know my house isn't always safe. If my dad catches me again, he won't just break my legs—he'd probably snap my neck outright." As Richard spoke, he made a gesture of wrenching his neck to the right. "Is that place open in the morning?" "Yes, it's open around the clock. Though the grounds aren't huge, the entertainment options are exhaustive. It's not uncommon for some members to stay inside and party for a whole week or even a month. "Um, I can serve as the guide, so..." "Tomorrow morning, I'll take you along." Richard pumped his fist immediately, thoroughly thrilled. "Awesome!" Ever since the district selection trial where Karen had carried him up the snow-covered mountain, Richard had practically become a changed man. He was no longer idle and lazy as before; he worked hard to make himself useful, rather than just remaining dead weight beside Karen. He cherished every opportunity to prove his worth. Even if it was just running errands or organizing files, he had previously done so with great enthusiasm and diligence. Of course, if there were more important missions he could carry out, that was even better! "Then I'll head back down first. Get some good rest?" "Mm." Richard left. Lying in bed, Karen stared at the ceiling and murmured to himself: "A divine artifact, an artifact spirit, special tastes... Could it have something to do with the Laks copper coin?" ... Though not sleepy, Karen still took a nap. His early training on security missions had accustomed him to catching up on sleep even when he wasn't tired—much like a camel's humps storing sustenance, he stored sleep. Lucie had prepared a fresh set of toiletries for Karen and placed them on a chair outside his room in advance. After washing up, Karen looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and suddenly realized that the casual outfit his grandmother had picked out for him was exceptionally convenient right now; it saved him the trouble of finding other clothes. Heading downstairs, breakfast clearly seemed to have been personally cooked by Dake. After Vic moved in with his subordinates, the original master of the Tribunal had essentially been relegated to the head of logistics. Indeed, there wasn't much Dake could contribute at this point. Karen having him take his badge to retrieve the records last night was already the last thing within his reach. Yet, wearing an apron, he still seemed quite happy, bustling about cheerfully with a few of his servants as they served breakfast. To Karen's slight surprise, he was actually served wontons here. Clearly, the son-in-law had learned the recipe from his mother-in-law, and it wasn't half bad. This clerical couple within the Church certainly lived an exquisite domestic life. Vic, having pulled an all-nighter but still full of energy, brought his bowl over to Karen. He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it to reveal a... silkworm cocoon. "Minister, last night we analyzed your communication methods after infiltrating. That salon is backed by the Church of the Abyss, and they're conducting extremely secretive operations. Without tearing off all pretenses and alarming them, you'll need special methods to send messages out in a timely manner. "This was provided by Richard. Over very long distances, he can make this cocoon change color across many different shades. We have already annotated signals for each color." "Yes, exactly. My aunt already helped me test and verify it using an isolation barrier. It's definitely effective," Richard chimed in, walking over. Karen nodded. "Let's use this, then." Turning to Richard, Karen asked, "You've developed Little Jerry's abilities quite nicely." Richard gave a wry smile. "Every time my dad beats me half to death, it seems to unlock a few functions that weren't there before." "Then it seems this efficient cultivation method ought to be maintained." "Please, no. I'm genuinely worried that one day Little Jerry won't be able to take this life anymore and will run away from home." With that, Richard laughed at his own joke. Vic spoke up again: "Minister, there is one more thing transmitted by Mr. Alfred. Regional Chief Suss summoned him for a talk. Regarding the Church of the Desert, the wind from above suddenly shifted." "The wind shifted?" "Yes. All voices previously advocating the policy of utilizing the Church of the Desert have vanished overnight. Furthermore, in the early hours of our local time, our Church issued a formal public declaration demanding that... the Desert Church immediately eradicate the Desert remnants who dare provoke Order's majesty and have committed grave crimes against Order." "Remnants?" Overnight, Desert believers were officially awarded the treatment of Light remnants. Still, Order's overarching strategy against the Desert likely wouldn't change. After all, from Compasini's burial grounds, they had learned that Order had spent centuries preparing to annex the Desert. Yet because the Desert believers had assassinated Wolflen, Order preferred to choose a harder path to annexation. "Do we know what caused it?" *Why did the wind from above keep shifting back and forth?* "Unknown, but I believe that reaching a consensus and issuing a rectification directive so quickly must have been a resolution passed at the Round Table Conference. Additionally, Regional Chief Suss hinted at asking Mr. Alfred whether we had received the true wind in advance." "Heh." Karen couldn't help but chuckle. Vic looked at Karen. Karen asked, "You think so too?" "I'm merely curious how you..." "Where would there be so many shifting winds? All directions are already written in the *Code of Order*." "Understood. I will reread it thoroughly in the near future." Karen sighed. In that case, Gisen wouldn't be punished by his family; instead, he would become a meritorious figure who had anticipated the party line ahead of time? The ways of the world were truly wondrous. After finishing breakfast, Karen checked the time and walked out of the Tribunal with Richard. "There's a risk of unexpected developments in this mission. If something happens, don't worry about me. Escape if you can." "Karen, I understand." Richard nodded vigorously. "But no need to be too nervous, either. This is Yorktown, after all. It's... our turf." "Exactly!" "Are you driving?" "I called Memphis to drive us. Didn't you want him to be my deputy director? Last night I told him to pick us up this morning and take us to the salon. He should be arriving soon." "You asked *him* to drive?" "Why, is there an issue?" "No. Whatever makes you happy." *Honk, honk!* An unfamiliar sedan appeared at the entrance. Memphis was behind the wheel, having deliberately switched to an ordinary car. Karen and Richard got into the back seat. Along the way, Richard tried several times to start a conversation, but Karen intentionally refrained from taking the bait. As a cousin, Karen was still merciful. Finally, they arrived before the salon. The layout resembled a small private estate. Karen touched his silver ring, and his appearance shifted immediately. His real face had received far too much exposure lately, and he was genuinely afraid someone might recognize him inside. Richard followed suit, touching his ring to alter his appearance. Ever since Mr. Lemar had been brought into the fold, practically everyone around Karen possessed one of his disguise rings. Richard tapped Memphis on the head and grinned. "Hey, why aren't you getting out to open the door for our Minister? Do I have to teach you everything?" Memphis paused for a moment, then nodded and stepped out of the car. Karen didn't wait for him to open the door and got out on his own. "Here, Karen, take your membership card. There's no photo on it, but remember your name and basic details." Richard pinned the membership card to the chest of Karen's shirt. Karen asked, "I'm a pianist, right?" "No, no, no, Karen. You're Richard the writer. Remember, you're an author specializing in realist literature. "Since I've never actually used this identity to patronize the place, you won't have to worry about running into acquaintances and blowing your cover." "Acquaintances?" "Yeah! You have no idea—I'm quite famous inside. An outstanding pianist! I've even performed in their small recital hall, with over a hundred people sitting quietly in the nude, receiving the baptism of my music." Richard handed the other membership card and pin to Memphis, who was standing beside them, and puffed out his chest proudly: "Come, pin it on me. Behold the great flesh-toned pianist, Master Aisen!" Memphis took the pin and began fastening it to Richard's chest. Richard kept badgering him: "Crooked, it's crooked! Why are your hands so clumsy? Aren't we array masters supposed to care the most about detail and symmetry?" "Understood." Memphis nodded and continued adjusting it. Watching this scene, Karen could only try to cover for Richard: "You made this card back when you were younger and foolish, right? Don't use your father's name again in the future. You already learned your lesson last time." Karen wanted to attribute this to the period before the 'Young Master Aisen' incident; since he had already been beaten for that, it could perhaps be considered settled. "Actually, no! That time my dad gave me a brutal thrashing over the pastry shop, the very first day I could walk after recovering, I ran straight to this club and registered his name!" Richard flicked his hair with his right hand, resting his left on his hip: "Just as recorded in the *Light of Order* when our great God of Order broke away from the Light faction, as believers of Order, shouldn't we embody this spirit of rebellion? "What do you think, Karen?" Karen didn't answer. Richard turned to Memphis instead: "Memphis, what do you think?" Memphis replied, "Be careful your father doesn't find out again." "What's there to be afraid of? It's not like he'd actually beat me to death! Haha!" Memphis nodded. "You're quite right."