What is Blake doing?
Blake slept until the afternoon, was groggily dressed by a maid, and then left his room.
Today, the manor seemed both lively and desolate.
After last night's fierce battle, none of the young female Slaves had slept well.
The ones who usually loved to make the most noise were still resting.
The construction team had already entered the core area of Mary Geoise; they had to prioritize repairing the residences of the Celestial Dragons.
The entire Mary Geoise was a scene of bustling activity.
Blake did some simple exercises in the manor and then noticed someone had stopped at the entrance of his manor.
He frowned but didn't pay it much mind.
Before long, a CP agent, led by a maid, came before Blake:
"Saint Blake!"
Blake turned his head and saw that the CP agent's uniform still bore traces of the battle, as well as wounds that were just beginning to scab over.
"It seems the Holy Land is quite short-staffed now; even the wounded are being sent to work."
Thinking this, Blake frowned and looked at the agent kneeling on the ground:
"What is it?"
The CP agent lowered his head, appearing even more respectful:
"Saint Blake, the Gorosei wish to see you."
"Hm?"
Blake's mind was uncertain:
"Was there a flaw in the previous plan? Did they discover something amiss?"
"Impossible!"
"The only part of the whole process I was personally involved in was leaking information through Ginny."
"But Belo Betty, who directly communicated, has already been brought back by me."
"Even if other high-ranking Revolutionary Army cadres are still alive, they should all be severely wounded."
"Even if they wake up, a bunch of die-hards shouldn't be able to implicate me so quickly."
"How could those five elderly people be so clever?"
Blake quickly reviewed what he had done in his mind, but his face remained expressionless, and he waved his hand impatiently:
"Alright, I understand."
"Yes! Saint Blake!"
The CP agent bowed again and turned to leave.
Blake watched his retreating figure, feeling a little relieved.
If the Gorosei had truly noticed something, this CP agent would at least be watching him, or even accompany him to see the Gorosei under the guise of an escort.
However, judging by his attitude, he seemed more like a simple messenger.
With that thought, Blake stopped pondering.
As for what those five old men wanted, he would know once he went to see them.
Blake, relying on his current strength, was not flustered.
He swaggered onto a Slave with giant blood and headed to the Gorosei's temporary office.
The once resplendent Chamber of Authority had been completely destroyed in last night's battle, and the Gorosei were now handling post-event matters in a hastily constructed house.
Thinking about it, those five old men had it quite tough.
They were beaten to within an inch of their lives (literally) last night, probably without even a moment's rest, and then had to continue working.
"Hm, after I take power, I'll need such workhorses too."
Blake thought to himself and, without knocking, walked directly into the temporary office:
"Is there something you gentlemen need from me?"
He scanned the Gorosei, his gaze lingering for a moment on Peter, who had been particularly badly beaten last night, before he went and sat on an empty sofa.
Warcury's handlebar mustache was neatly re-groomed, and he propped his chin with both hands:
"Saint Blake, we called you here to ask about the deployment of the Red Port garrison."
"Oh, so it's about that."
Blake understood.
It was indeed a bit too coincidental that he had Oswald take half of the Red Port garrison to inspect the cruise ship's maintenance on the day Mary Geoise was attacked.
However, Blake had already prepared his excuse:
"Does this even need to be asked of me? The Red Port garrison should all know, right?"
He leaned back, reclining on the sofa, crossing his legs, and feigning an indifferent attitude.
Mars narrowed his eyes:
"But Mary Geoise was attacked that day."
"It was indeed my oversight."
Blake nodded, seemingly admitting his mistake, and then continued:
"I didn't realize the difficulty you five gentlemen faced in governing the world, nor did I expect there to be so many ruffians on the sea."
"Even Red Port and the Holy Land could be breached."
At these words, the Gorosei exchanged glances.
Blake's words, on the surface, were an admission of guilt, but in reality, they were a veiled jab at their inability to govern the sea effectively.
How could they manage things when there were so many ruffians on the sea, even to the point where they were attacked at their doorstep?
Peter, who was already fuming from last night's battle, was now being mocked by a junior, and his face immediately lost its composure.
He slammed the table and stood up:
"Saint Blake! Don't try to change the subject here. We are asking you why you moved the Red Port garrison!"
Blake first smiled and nodded at Peter, then spread his hands:
"I'm planning to go for a stroll on the sea soon."
"Anyway, that garrison has nothing to do all day, so I had them check the maintenance of my cruise ship."
"This is also a grace from Oswald, who shows me respect."
"Is there a problem?"
"As a World Nobles, I have that much authority, don't I?"
"But that day..."
Peter wanted to say more, but St. V. Nusjuro interrupted:
"What's wrong with your ship?"
Blake shrugged:
"I encountered a storm during my last voyage and it's been docked for several years."
"Before setting sail, I plan to have people test it first."
"If it sinks inexplicably at sea, my noble body can't handle the trouble."
"After all..."
He looked around, surveying the somewhat crude office, his gaze stopping on a patch of peeling paint on the wall:
"After all, the craftsmanship of these artisans in Mary Geoise... doesn't seem to be all that reassuring."
The Gorosei exchanged glances, then Saturn spoke:
"Alright, Saint Blake, we were just inquiring about yesterday's situation."
"This matter ends here."
"However, next time you want to deploy the garrison, it's best to inform us first."
"No problem, Gorosei."
Blake stood up and straightened his clothes:
"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
After Blake left, Warcury leisurely said:
"He and Christopher, that traitor, shouldn't be in the same group."
"That's right."
Saturn nodded in agreement:
"Saint Blake has not shown any abnormal behavior all these years."
"Nor have we heard of him having any dealings with Christopher."
"His answer just now is completely consistent with his past behavior."
"Hmph, it's really too consistent!"
Peter drained the red wine in his glass:
"He acts all polite, but he's constantly mocking us!"
"Does he think we're as stupid as Rosward and can't tell?"
"Hahaha... Saint Peter, don't mind the child."
Mars laughed and smoothed things over, then pointed to the peeling paint in the corner:
"Who was in charge of supervising this office?"
"Arrest him and the artisans who built the room."
"Execute them immediately!"
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