Trickles of water washed over a flawless, nearly immaculate physique, running along the seams of the tiles into the drain.
There was no body wash, no shampoo, no conditioner, no facial cleanser—nothing of the sort was here. There wasn't even a showerhead, merely an exposed pipe spraying water downward.
Rather than taking a shower, Igola felt more like he was standing under a downpour.
Moreover, the washroom was tiny, too cramped for him to even spread his arms wide. Even during his time in Shattered Lake Prison, Igola had never been reduced to such dire straits.
Yet neat-freak Igola showed little distaste right now. After hastily rinsing away his sweat, he dried himself with a coarse towel and slipped into a change of casual clothes. The fit wasn't quite right, but clearly one couldn't be too picky under these circumstances.
Returning to the main hall of the basement, he saw Harvey applying makeup to his coffin—the eyebrow pencil made of white bone, the lipstick base of blood ink. Yaxiu was drying Lisi's hair with an agonizingly inefficient hairdryer. Banjie was whipping up a late-night snack by the stove, while Annan cradled a cup of hot milk as she flipped through the Book of Gospel.
"Haha, everyone's chatting, I see. I fell asleep just now and dreamed that Yaxiu and Annan took first place on the Art Board, and then we got attacked and had to flee Azula. I only just woke up... What a bizarre dream," Igola said, picking a chair to sit down. "When in reality, we just came to a tomb for an outing."
Annan closed the Book of Gospel. "Are you trying to hypnotize us?"
"Or maybe just hypnotizing myself," Igola replied. "Escapism is a mind sorcerer's final tear."
Just then, Banjie turned off the portable stove and brought over a dining tray piled high with thick-cut steaks, white bread, cream sauce, mashed potatoes, and more. For a late-night snack, it was remarkably lavish.
"Do we have any alcohol?" Annan suddenly asked.
Banjie nodded. Opening his briefcase, he retrieved a bottle of liquor and five glasses. Next, he produced a lemon, sliced it, froze some drinking water into ice cubes, and in moments had prepared five mixed drinks.
"When trouble strikes, I'm used to using alcohol as a buffer for my brain," Annan said. "I think you'll all like how it feels—and even if you have objections, shut up and drink with me right now! Cheers!"
"This is workplace harassment..." Yaxiu muttered. Holding down Lisi's head with one hand, he took a glass and tossed it back.
It went down smooth with a fruity aroma, without a hint of harsh burn, leaving only a lingering sweetness on the palate. It was thoroughly delicious.
"Is there more?" Harvey asked.
"Yes, but you're not getting any." With a drink in her belly, Annan's mood instantly brightened considerably. "This is a local Azula craft beer called 'Pink Rabbit.' Because it goes down so pleasantly sweet, it's very easy to drink too much. Once the afterkick hits, you'll suddenly black out, so don't get greedy."
Lisi immediately grew agitated. "I want some too!"
"Kids drink milk." Yaxiu gave Lisi a light chop on the head.
"Alright then. Now that we've washed up, had a drink, and taken a breather, it's time to sort out our situation." Annan swept her long hair back over her shoulders and sat cross-legged on the sofa. "You must have a lot of questions. I'll answer them first."
"First off." Igola pointed toward the briefcase beside Banjie. "Is that a spatial item?"
They simply couldn't ignore this unremarkable-looking briefcase. During their escape, Banjie had stuffed Harvey's entire coffin right into it. After arriving at this tomb, Banjie had pulled out the coffin, a portable stove, a large stock of ingredients, tableware and utensils, and even fresh changes of clothes—including underwear—for all six of them!
If Banjie were to pull an armored vehicle out of that briefcase at any point, no one would even be surprised.
No wonder Annan hadn't cared whether they packed any luggage. This single briefcase was more than enough to meet the entire group's daily necessities.
"Yes," Annan nodded. "Though it's not what you think. Banjie isn't proficient in the spatial faction... This was Banjie's exclusive reward."
"A reward from the previous Weaving Ceremony?"
"Yes," Annan nodded. "The briefcase isn't as convenient as you might imagine. It can't hold anything heavier than Banjie's body weight, it can't hold unsealed liquids, and putting things in or taking them out has a cooldown... Decades ago it might have been practical, but in this era of highly developed transportation, a mere mobile warehouse has little use."
She paused. "It only truly shines when we're on the run."
"So you had already prepared to flee long ago," Igola observed with razor-sharp insight. "Except you didn't intend to run right now, but rather ten days later when the second board is announced. You foresaw long ago that once us outsiders made the list, we would become targets for all. Fleeing was always meant to be the first movement of your plan."
"To be precise, I was going to take you out of Azula around the fourteenth, and then quietly wait for the moment the entire Gospel Country was shocked by the four of your names." Annan let out a breath. "I can only say plans can never keep up with changes... Ah, Yaxiu, Yaxiu. Though I don't make a habit of blaming others, this time it really is..."
Yaxiu immediately retorted, "Young Miss, don't forget you're the creator! I was just your portrait model! If you round it up, I'm the real victim here!"
"This isn't a tomb, is it?" Harvey said suddenly. "Tombs are meant for the dead to dwell in. Not only is this place not housing the dead, I haven't even smelled the scent of a corpse."
"Of course you haven't. My grandfather was cremated to ashes long ago," Annan said, shrugging. "Yet this is his tomb—at least in name."
The necromancer didn't grasp the convoluted twists and turns, but the Swindler quickly caught on. "To mislead the Book of Gospel?"
"Honestly, given some time, I'm sure you could build an organization from scratch that rivals the Family-Wrecking Agency, Mr. Bogin," Annan remarked with admiration. "Exactly. Even though the Book of Gospel knows the entire Gospel Country like the back of its hand, there is wiggle room when it comes to specific designations—just like if I buy a residential apartment and remodel it into an office for the agency, it will still be recorded in the Book of Gospel as 'Annan's Residence' rather than 'Annan's Office.'
"If a safehouse is built privately without any approval, the Book of Gospel will naturally recognize it as a 'private basement.' But if I purchase land from the Urban Planning Bureau under the pretense of a tomb and develop it, it will be classified by the Book of Gospel as a tomb structure.
"Even if I remodel it into a safehouse, it will still show up in the Book of Gospel's database as a tomb—after all, there's no rule dictating that a tomb can't be remodeled like this. Right now, the Red Hats and the agencies are definitely raiding the safehouses I prepared in the past, but they won't find this place anytime soon. To them, the search priority for tombs is far too low."
With that, Annan clasped her hands devoutly and prayed, "O grandfather, please bless this tomb with your fatty liver and foul urine, drive off the beasts of civilization, and keep us safe from harm."
Evidently, Annan's grandfather hadn't passed away peacefully from this world; his health had been so wretched that healers hadn't even bothered trying to patch him up.
Annan's explanation wasn't hard to follow, and the plan wasn't overly intricate, yet everyone was still amazed by her meticulous thinking—only someone like Annan, who spent all day studying how to exploit loopholes in the Book of Gospel, could come up with such underhanded tricks.
"So then," Igola said, pressing his palms together, "what's the plan next?"
"It's currently 2:11 AM. We need to relocate before 6:00 AM, which means we have about four hours to rest," Annan said. "We'll split into two shifts to take turns keeping watch.
"Whoever is on watch must stay alert and open the Book of Gospel every five minutes to check for personnel within a three-hundred-meter radius. Those off watch will enter the Void Realm and recover their mental energy within two hours as much as possible. First thing tomorrow morning, we continue our journey."
The Book of Gospel was not only the pursuer's sharp blade, but also the fugitive's iron shield. As long as one had enough points, the Book of Gospel cared nothing for good or evil, right or wrong; it imparted exceptional, cost-effective service equally to all.
Igola and the others summoned their respective Books of Gospel, lost in thought. Their modus operandi was still stuck in the Blood Moon version. If not for Annan guiding them like a member of a Gospel-version raid guide team, they would have long suffered cross-version strikes from the Red Hats and the agencies.
Reconnaissance, offense, defense, logistics... In the Gospel Country, virtually every aspect could involve the Book of Gospel, and its power was in no way inferior to a sorcerer's miracles. Knowing how to wield the Book of Gospel effectively was the true core tenet of combat in this Gospel version.
Annan spread her hands. "If there are no questions, then—"
"Then what about Yaxiu?"
Chapter 286