Chapter 69 - 69

Chapter 171: The Past of Anthony Stevenson

From then on, Nimrod possessed the Beyonder powers of the sequence 8 "Robot".

In this world, fate is a type of Beyonder power, a concept, and also an authority.

In a sense, fate can even be called "Him".

But even so, no Outer Deity has completely grasped the authority of fate; even pillars can hardly escape the mockery of fate.

As one of the three Pathways of the fate domain, the sequence 8 "Robot" of the "Wheel of Fortune" grants the Beyonder the abilities of a true machine.

First is the terrifying computational ability and precise control.

This ability converges with the "Cryptologist"'s "Decipher", and due to the increase in computing power, the "Cryptologist"'s "Decipher" ability has also improved to a certain extent—or rather, whether it is handling complex calculations or massive amounts of data, it is effortless for Nimrod now.

However, in contrast, the "Robot" Sequence does not provide any improvement to things like "insight" or "comprehension".

Besides that, Nimrod felt that all aspects of his physical attributes had been significantly enhanced; he could now be considered a talented individual in fields like combat and shooting.

Coupled with the fact that he had already completed training in the combat field, he was now an expert in combat.

Moreover, after his physique had been enhanced three times by potions, Nimrod was now no inferior to a sequence 8 "Pugilist" of the combat-specialized "Warrior" Pathway.

Setting aside physical attributes, if Nimrod were only counting the operation of firearms and other thermal weapons, his current level would be approximately equal to a Sequence 7 "Weapon Master".

At the same time, "Robot" also brought Nimrod the ability of divination and anti-divination.

For Nimrod, this was a more important improvement than physique and computing power—because he finally possessed an "active skill" called "Divination".

Although "Error", "Door", and "Fool" are all Pathways of the mystery domain, they belong to different domains.

Compared to the "Fool", which focuses on mysticism, and the "Door", which is closer to a traditional mage, "Error" always walks on the path of "creating Errors" and has not dispersed its own authority into the domains of "divination" or "prophecy"; the future it can predict is still a form of simulation and speculation aided by "Decipher".

Therefore, Nimrod was actually not good at divination. The previous combination of the "Mendicant Monk" and "Monster" Beyonder characteristics only amounted to a passive "predicting the future".

And the current "Divination" ability clearly filled in the shortcomings for Nimrod. Although it was still not as good as Klein, who could enter Above the Gray Fog to perform divination, it could at least play a certain role in emergencies.

As for anti-divination—forgive Nimrod for being blunt, but to him, this thing was basically useless.

However, Nimrod didn't feel there was any problem. After all, this was just a sequence 8 potion. Expecting it to provide a boost to the original status was asking too much of this potion.

After his newly acquired Beyonder powers stabilized, Nimrod immediately got up and quickly sneaked back towards Roger's mansion, preparing to wait for Anthony Stevenson's arrival tomorrow.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Anthony deliberately lagged a step behind Lumian, walking towards the room at the end of the corridor under Lumian's lead.

Anthony suppressed the nervous emotions in his heart and asked Lumian in a casual tone: "Why does the boss want to see me?"

Lumian did not stop his footsteps, nor did he look back: "Or why don't you guess the reason the boss wants to see you?"

— — He didn't really make Anthony rack his brains to guess why the boss of "Passion" wanted to see him, but said as if talking to himself: "You have also joined 'Passion' for a while now. You should know that, according to your Sequence, you could also become a small leader in other gangs. The reason why you are still working as an intelligence broker is, firstly, because you don't like the way gangs operate, and secondly, because you don't want to attract attention."

"Hmm, this is the part I know about you."

Lumian asked in a teasing voice: "So, what kind of organization do you think 'Passion' is? And why does the boss want to see you?"

Lumian's implication was so obvious that Anthony had already woven together possible guesses in his heart. He was silent for a while: "I feel that 'Passion' doesn't even seem like a gang."

"You're right." Lumian said with a smile: "We have the same goal of wanting revenge, so I mentioned you to the boss, and the boss conducted an inspection of you. Of course, the fact that you can walk here now also shows that my judgment is good, the inspection results were very smooth, and you have the potential to become an executive."

As expected — — — — Anthony thought silently, watching Lumian stop his footsteps:

Before his eyes was a dilapidated wooden door, and Anthony, who had been here before, knew who the owner of this place was — Lumian had already bought this building from the owner of the "Golden Rooster Inn", and Anthony himself had personally been here.

Anthony took a deep breath: "Isn't this your usual residence?"

Lumian smiled and did not give a direct answer: "Do you want to try guessing again why I live here? Is it because I want to?"

It really is — — — — Lumian muttered in his heart, full of mischievous intent.

Could it be that the boss of "Passion" is also hiding here?

Anthony was very sure that Lumian was guiding him to make a judgment in this direction, but when he looked at Lumian's micro-expressions, he couldn't interpret such a tendency.

Is the boss really hiding here?

For a moment, some doubts couldn't help but arise in Anthony's heart. He watched Lumian turn the doorknob and say to him: "Go in, you will know the reason when you see the boss."

Anthony nodded cautiously and walked into the room.

After entering the room, he cautiously scanned the surroundings. The entire room was even more plain and simple than Anthony had imagined, without even an extra piece of furniture.

However, Anthony's eyebrows furrowed the next second:

It was precisely because this place was too plain that Anthony could be certain that there was no one else hiding here; it was absolutely impossible. There wasn't even a cabinet, completely lacking any space to hide others.

The only thing worth Anthony's attention was the four candles placed in a regular pattern against the wall where the table was located.

These candles were arranged according to certain rules, seemingly some kind of unfinished ritual magic.

Just at this moment, a "click" of the door locking made Anthony turn his head back.

He looked at Lumian, who had fallen behind because he needed to close the door, but at this moment Anthony discovered that Lumian had already locked the door, which made Anthony subconsciously adopt a defensive posture.

Lumian gave a soft "tsk" and comforted Anthony: "Don't worry, there's no need to lock the door to harm you. Based on the physical fitness of a 'Spectator', if I wanted to harm you, you would have died countless times — — — — "

Why are all the executives of "Passion" mental patients? Lumian complained in his heart, cursing himself along the way.

" — — — — Sorry, I was a bit too nervous." Anthony was stunned for a moment and apologized to Lumian with a good attitude.

Lumian didn't mind, just raised his hand to ignite the ritual candles with spirituality, chanting a large number of short syllables that Anthony could not understand.

What language is this? It's not Hermes Language, nor does it sound like Giant Language — — — — an unknown supernatural language?

Before every pause, there were four identical syllables. Is this some kind of secret text to open the ritual?

Just as Anthony was carefully identifying the language in Lumian's mouth, the scene before his eyes changed in an instant:

The four candles shone on each other, and the flames burning within them became many times more vigorous, instantly illuminating the pitch-black room.

And within the light and shadow formed by these flames, a pale gray shadow gradually emerged from the flames. He was wearing strange clothing, making Anthony feel somewhat familiar for a moment.

However, at this moment, Anthony couldn't bother to recall where he had seen such clothing, because his heart was filled with more surprise at this time.

Before coming here, as a Beyonder, he had thought of many possibilities of meeting the boss, and even after referring to Lumian's Sequence, he thought this boss might be a mid-Sequence Beyonder.

But he had never imagined that this "boss" hidden behind the scenes would be an existence possessing divinity!

"Anthony Stevenson."

From within the twisted candlelight, a voice that was difficult to distinguish as male or female, old or young, came from within. Upon hearing this voice, Anthony hurriedly lowered his head.

He prepared to listen to the boss's words — while "Passion" was observing him, he was also observing "Passion"'s executive Lumian. He could basically confirm that he was the first person brought here by Lumian.

Anthony had once been a soldier in the army. He knew that when he was favored, the simplest attitude was to manifest it. After all, if you are not even willing to disguise the most superficial loyalty, then who would be willing to believe that you are loyal?

"You were once a soldier."

"When you participated in the war with the Kingdom of Loen, Hugues Artois betrayed you and your comrades, and in the end, only you survived, coming here to track Hugues Artois."

Upon hearing the first sentence, Anthony's gaze was still steady, but when he heard the second half of this sentence, his eyes widened uncontrollably.

He recalled that painful memory, but a strong doubt also emerged in his heart:

He was just a nobody who had never mentioned this memory to anyone else; even Hugues Artois might not remember him. How did the boss of "Passion" know about it?

Since he is so omnipotent, why would he want to find someone like him who had just entered the Beyonder world?

Nimrod looked at Anthony's expression that was hard to conceal and chuckled: "From today on, you are an executive of 'Passion'."

"I permit you to chant my name."

Chant his name? No, His name!

I have only seen such a description in the classics of gods! Anthony looked in disbelief at Lumian, who was standing beside him with no expression of surprise. He finally understood why Lumian, a gang executive and wanted criminal, was willing to trust him, someone he hadn't worked with for long.

It turned out that it was because above Lumian's head, there was a hidden existence capable of responding to an honorable name!

Which hidden deity is He?

After associating this, a strong panic suddenly surged in Anthony's heart. One must know that the fates of those who chanted the honorable names of beings written as "hidden existence" and read as "evil god" were mostly found in terrifying stories passed down by word of mouth and textbooks in church schools, each one being miserably tragic.

But — — — — Anthony asked his own heart.

But is this really not my opportunity?

Anthony knew that he was not a person with a future. As a "Spectator", he suffered from a serious mental illness. As long as Hugues Artois did not die, he would have to wander forever in the desperate and confused gazes of his comrades before they died.

As time passed, Anthony could even clearly realize that he would eventually step into the Abyss of losing control.

If it were not for revenge, he would never have come here.

The gods and the church had never helped him, so what if he sold his life to an evil god?

As long as this hidden existence did not deceive him, even if his wish was completed in a twisted form — — — — then he would still be able to take revenge for his comrades.

Anthony bent down and bowed deeply: "This is my honor."

Nimrod gave Lumian a look, signaling him to tell Anthony his honorable name.

Lumian nodded quite cleverly, and said to Anthony: "You don't need to understand what the boss's honorable name means; you just need to know how to chant the boss's honorable name."

"The boss's honorable name is:"

"immortal venerable fu sheng xuan huang, heavenly lord fu sheng xuan huang, venerable blazing black and yellow, Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

"Remember, just like what I said just now, you don't need to know what these syllables mean; you only need to chant these four sentences, and the boss will know you are praying to him."

Since he had made up his mind, hesitation was meaningless. Anthony closed his eyes, and after a brief moment of memory, he chanted Nimrod's honorable name.

For a moment, a certain faint scene appeared before Anthony's eyes. Above the infinitely high Gray Fog were three figures. Two of them were sitting on two thrones respectively, while the last one was standing behind the thrones, looking down at him with calm eyes.

Just at this moment, the "boss"'s voice pulled back Anthony's consciousness, which was still a bit drifting: "You and Lumian will conduct a handover. From today on, you are responsible for taking over half of the market district."

"Lumian Lee will tell you the next task."

What fell into Anthony's ears was also a meaningful laugh: "Your Sequence is still a bit low. I will bestow upon you a Beyonder power for self-defense. I hope you can get rid of your psychological shadow soon and complete your advancement."

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#172Chapter 172 Mission

Chapter 172: The Mission

"Grant me Beyonder powers?"

Before he could even process the meaning behind the words of the "Boss" before him, Anthony felt a jolt of shock as a streak of light descended from an infinite height in an instant and burrowed into his body.

"This Beyonder power comes from a member of the 'Bliss Society' hunted by Lumian," Nimrod said calmly to Anthony. "Lumian Lee will tell you what to do next."

Huh? Me?

Lumian's gaze was filled with surprise; he had never expected this matter to be directed toward him.

He understood clearly why his Godfather wanted to hand over half of the Market District to Anthony—it was preparation for his upcoming consumption of the "Witch" potion and subsequent gender change. It was a prerequisite that would allow Anthony to temporarily take control of the Market District in his stead.

But Godfather hadn't told him anything about how to mentor a newcomer!

Just then, a stream of information surfaced in Lumian's mind. Lumian immediately fell into deep thought, diligently digesting the content so he wouldn't lose face in front of this new cadre.

Still, Lumian stole a glance at Anthony beside him. Anthony was clearly also processing the information from those two sentences, which gave Lumian some time to prepare.

After a long while, the surrounding candlelight had already flickered out. Anthony finally snapped out of it, straightening his back to look at Lumian: "I didn't expect that He was actually a great existence——"

Anthony's expression carried a hint of indescribable emotion. Although he hadn't spent much time making the decision earlier, even now, he could feel his heart pounding wildly.

In reality, finding a final destination for one's life was no easy task.

Most mortals in the world offer their faith in hopes of "entering the Divine Kingdom after death." Thus, the psychological preparation required to believe in an Evil God is, conversely, to give up any happiness after death.

If it weren't for revenge, Anthony would never have abandoned his faith.

Anthony adjusted his expression and spoke to Lumian in a heavy voice: "We are companions now. You can tell me the Boss's mission—but I have no experience managing the Market District. Taking over half of it so suddenly, wouldn't it——"

Anthony's tone held a hint of testing.

He knew most gang cadres disliked others meddling in their business or stripping away their profits. Although Anthony knew Lumian might be different within "Passion," he wasn't willing to bet on it.

As a "Spectator," Anthony had naturally noticed the look of astonishment on Lumian's face just now.

You mean to say you, a "Spectator" who understands the human heart, are worried about lacking management talent? Lumian smiled, easily hearing Anthony's subtext: "The Boss doesn't care, and neither do I."

"Since Sequence 9, all my potions have been given to me by the Boss. I'm merely managing the Market District for Him—I'll have the team leaders of the half you're about to take over come and handle the handover, they'll tell you what to do."

"Of course, I don't have much time, so you'll have to study hard. But that shouldn't be a problem for you."

.

"Right, we're different from other places. As long as you're willing to work, the Boss will give you what you want—whether it's Verl d'Or, Beyonder characteristics, or——"

Lumian chuckled, mimicking his Godfather's habit, and used his "Instigation" technique: "Or perhaps the life of Hugues Artois."

The reason I don't care about these profits is that, besides not viewing the gang as my own property, I am also the Boss's godson—Lumian thought to himself.

He knew very well that helping his Godfather manage the gang was to obtain subsequent Beyonder characteristics and aid his acting, not to acquire shiny Verl d'Or.

Godfather has already prepared the subsequent potions for me, so what's wrong with giving all the gang's profits to Him?

Furthermore, everyone in "Passion" was Lumian's eyes and ears. Half of the members of "Passion" were thugs, while the other half held normal jobs. These people wouldn't easily reveal their identities, and no one would suspect a low-level street vendor.

Because "Passion" provided good benefits, there wasn't much money left over in hand, but that was only in comparison to the other two gangs.

Anthony nodded, indicating he understood Lumian's meaning, and took the initiative to ask: "What is my mission?"

This was his first mission as a cadre of "Passion," and Anthony planned to perform well to earn the Boss's appreciation.

Lumian nodded slightly and sat down on a nearby chair: "Do you want to become a member of a campaign team or even a member of parliament? The Boss wants to promote a Member of Parliament."

Anthony frowned, carefully analyzing it in his mind: "But that's not very realistic. Becoming an MP is a complex process. Even just for the Market District of Trier, it requires many tedious steps and a long time—unless the Boss plans to gradually support a candidate over the next five years for it to be possible."

Lumian waved his hand: "So we need to start with the existing candidates."

Anthony recalled the three candidates currently campaigning in the Market District. He guessed the Boss might be planning to support the relatively weaker 'Jacques Sanson,' who would be easier to control than the other two: "——Who is it?"

Lumian revealed a mysterious smile: "The chosen candidate is Hugues Artois."

Anthony froze. Just as a trace of instinctive anger rose in his heart, he heard Lumian speak directly, cutting off his rage: "Actually, which MP is chosen makes no difference to the Boss. Choosing Hugues Artois is simply to help you complete your revenge."

Anthony struggled to understand the meaning behind Lumian's words for a moment and asked with a frown: "Why?"

Asking me to go back and serve under Hugues Artois, that traitor who betrayed us—how could I accept such a thing?

How does this help me succeed in my revenge?

Lumian tilted his chin up: "First, go set up a Wall of Spirituality to prevent anyone from eavesdropping."

Though Anthony wanted to say something, he restrained himself and went to set up a Wall of Spirituality that could Seal the room. Only after finishing did he walk quickly back to Lumian's side.

Lumian sighed. This is what a "Spectator" with psychological trauma looks like——a normal "Spectator" wouldn't get this agitated even upon hearing what he just said; they would be able to discern his true thoughts through his micro-expressions and movements.

He hadn't even used "Provocation" yet!

Anthony lowered his voice and asked Lumian seriously: "You can tell me the reason for doing this now."

"It's simple." Lumian adopted a serious expression and said to Anthony: "Do you know why I repeatedly hunted the leaders of the Stinger Gang, and yet the Stinger Gang has always chosen to back down?"

"Even if they backed down temporarily for profit, everything I did shook the very foundation of the Stinger Gang's existence. 'Black Scorpion' Roger might have sought help, might have tried to kill me at any cost, or might have used underhanded tactics against 'Passion,' but it's impossible for him to keep backing down."

"The reason the current 'Roger's' decisions seem so foolish is because——"

Lumian looked at Anthony, his tone inexplicably gaining a touch of amusement: "Because the real Roger died long ago. The current 'Roger' is actually the Boss of our 'Passion.'"

"Tell me, why would we promote Hugues Artois to become a Member of Parliament?"

This was one of the pieces of information Nimrod had transmitted to Lumian.

"The Stinger Gang's 'Black Scorpion' Roger?" Anthony said in disbelief, but after convincing himself, he quickly realized something: "You mean, despite the Boss being a hidden existence, He can still walk upon the earth?"

Lumian smiled: "The Boss said He prefers to be referred to as 'He.' The Boss is a hidden existence with humanity, not like those cold deities."

Anthony found this description somewhat familiar, feeling as though this "Boss" might be some hidden existence he had heard of. However, failing to recall it, he didn't dwell on it and continued listening seriously to Lumian.

At this point, Lumian shifted his posture and said to Anthony in a relaxed tone: "The reason I said you could complete your revenge is for this very reason. By the time Hugues Artois, that fellow who collaborated with Evil God Believers, officially begins his election, he will be the Boss."

"Your mission is to briefly disguise yourself as an Evil God Believer to assist Hugues Artois. When the day comes that he becomes an MP, that will be the day he becomes our Boss."

"How about it? Do you accept such a mission?"

Anthony was silent for a long time: "This is truly——"

This was truly an impossible mission to refuse.

The corners of his slightly chubby face curled upward in a smile that, to Lumian, looked somewhat ferocious.

Only after Anthony's emotions returned to normal did Lumian continue: "Let me tell you the specific plan."

"First, the people around Hugues Artois are all Believers of an Evil God. It was the support of these Believers that allowed him to reach this stage step by step. According to the Boss, even the deceased General Philip was a Believer of an Evil God."

General Philip——so there really was something fishy about his death! Anthony listened quietly to Lumian's words, silently repeating General Philip's name in his heart.

When he was investigating Hugues Artois, he felt that General Philip's death "from illness" was far too coincidental, as if all traces had been wiped clean.

A sense of relief welled up in Anthony's heart—these were things he had suspected but couldn't investigate before. And now, after joining this organization with a hidden existence, he learned them so easily?

If Hugues Artois is surrounded by Evil God Believers——then before this, when he betrayed me and my comrades, was he already working for an Evil God?

Could it be that the betrayal was a sacrifice to an Evil God?

Otherwise, there's no way to explain why Hugues Artois would cause the death of our entire company, or how he was able to rise so rapidly afterward!

Anthony's pupils constricted sharply as he seemed to grasp a part of the truth.

Lumian paused for a moment before continuing: "So, what we need to do is disguise ourselves as Evil God Believers and join Atso's campaign team."

"Don't worry, with the votes controlled by 'Passion,' Hugues Artois won't refuse us. And as for someone like Hugues Artois who willingly believes in an Evil God——no matter how many times he dies, he deserves it."

Because I am one of the victims of an Evil God's sacrificial ritual, with an Evil God's angel sealed within me, making me one of the most favored among favored in the eyes of other Evil God Believers——Lumian did not voice this thought, only feeling that he and Anthony were kindred spirits.

He had lost his sister and friends in an Evil God's sacrificial ritual, while Anthony had lost comrades who were like brothers.

Those who lured his sister step by step into the Abyss, those Believers who worshipped Evil Gods, and those Evil Gods who used him and his sister to achieve their own goals—they all deserved to die!

Suppressing the fire in his heart, Lumian took a deep breath to calm his emotions slightly: "At the same time, the Boss also encourages you to hunt Evil God Believers. The more you kill, the greater the reward."

To be cautious, Anthony still asked: "Which Evil God organizations are we hostile toward?"

Lumian smiled: "All of them."

"Except for the 'Aurora Order,' all Evil God organizations are our enemies. As for why the Aurora Order is excluded, it's because they are also hunting Evil God Believers just like us. The Boss said this is a good thing."

The last sentence was made up on the spot by Lumian; Nimrod had only given him a list of Evil God organizations.

Anthony nodded and asked Lumian, his tone clearly impatient: "Then, when do we go to complete the Boss's mission?"

Lumian leaned back in his chair and told Anthony the details of the mission his Godfather had assigned: "In three days. There's still some time before Hugues Artois's election. We need to make it so he has no choice but to ask something of us. These next two days, I will be handling that very matter."

"So, tonight you must memorize the team leaders under you and understand the internal rules and regulations of 'Passion.' After today, you might not necessarily be able to see me."

"Right, now go buy something to fill your stomach, and buy a dinner for me as well."

Louis Lund had finally established a connection with the Stinger Gang's 'Black Scorpion' Roger, and Godfather was finally planning to take action against the Stinger Gang——

In the gloomy, dark room, the corners of Lumian's mouth slowly curled up. He extended his hands, raising both palms side by side in front of him.

He was so excited that both his palms were trembling slightly.

Through Louis Lund, he could learn more about what had happened in the real Cordu Village and track down his enemies.

Having a chance to resurrect his sister didn't mean his enemies didn't need to pay the price, did it?

Chapter 173: Lumian's "Swan Song"

The pitch-black night shrouded the sleepless Trier. Inside a house in a quiet and elegant villa district, a number of people far exceeding what should be in a villa gathered.

This house was the residence of "Black Scorpion" Roger, the leader of the Stinger Gang, but now, its master had changed.

For a Trier that worshipped the Sun, storms and Darkness were not pleasant images. Even those pagans who no longer worshipped the Sun did not like the pitch-black night—especially for these gang members.

Darkness often meant danger and would remind them of the shadows from when they were weak, and they were now shrouded in a shadow named "Passion."

The flames in the lamps flickered. Wine glasses placed on the table by waiters were constantly picked up by gang leaders with crude movements. Alcohol was poured into their stomachs, but it was hard to soothe the exhausted minds and bodies of these Villains under the shadow of assassination.

The people around the dining table were quite silent, the atmosphere as if frozen. But at this moment, the person sitting in the main seat suddenly stood up: "Everyone, we just need to endure this period. Once Mr. Atso becomes a member of parliament, we can drive Passion out of here."

Wearing the appearance of Roger, whose face was slightly chubby and had blue eyes as cold as the Abyss, Nimrod, the boss of the "Passion" organization, spoke confidently to the people around him.

"Roger's" speech was like a shot of adrenaline, causing the atmosphere around the long dining table to gradually change.

The sound of clinking wine glasses gradually increased, and the originally cautious and suppressed communication also began to grow. Under Nimrod's silent guidance, the atmosphere of the entire banquet spread in a relaxed direction.

The only one who was a bit different in this entire banquet was Roger's deputy, "Baldy" Harman. He usually looked ferocious, but now he appeared quite sullen.

Nimrod noticed his appearance and took the initiative to call him aside.

At the edge of the room by the corridor, Stinger Gang thugs were patrolling nervously. However, after seeing the smiling "Black Scorpion" Roger, their expressions improved a bit—if the boss wasn't too nervous, it meant the Stinger Gang's situation hadn't worsened too much yet.

Nimrod waved his hand, dismissing the Stinger Gang thugs, and entered the room with Harman. He sat down and said to Harman in a calm tone: "Speak, what are you worried about?"

Glancing quietly at the dining room where glasses were clinking, Harman hesitated for a moment and lowered his voice: "Boss, do you think 'Passion' will... not give us this chance?"

Nimrod raised his eyes and glanced at Harman: "Are you worried that Charles from 'Passion' will raid us during Mr. Hugues Artois's election?"

"Exactly, Boss." Harman exhaled: "He's a reckless fellow. I think he's really capable of doing such a thing. He's different from us; he's a desperate outlaw!"

When he said the last sentence, Harman's tone couldn't help but rise a bit, trying to hide the slight trembling within.

"Don't worry." Nimrod shook his head: "I've deployed a large number of people around. Even if his Beyonder abilities aren't weak, he has no way to bypass so many eyes. And—"

The corners of Nimrod's mouth carried a slight smile, and those cold eyes belonging to Roger even seemed a bit softer at this moment: "A Madam has sent her attendant here; he will take me to see her later. This is an opportunity; I will mention our recent affairs to her and request some help."

Harman breathed a sigh of relief: "That's good then."

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Nimrod put on a pensive look. He looked at Harman in front of him and, after a moment of deep thought, spoke: "However, what you said makes some sense. Go back first and stabilize the other leaders. I'll go get some materials to refine the ritual in this house."

Harman didn't doubt him, nodded, and walked towards the dining room.

Nimrod took a different direction. After instructing the Stinger Gang thugs to guard this place well, he walked into his study.

The study looked no different from before, except there were many more candles emitting a herbal scent around. Nimrod smiled slightly. Under the surge of his abundant spirituality, the surrounding candles were suddenly lit. Spiritual flames ignited, dyeing the entire study a ghostly blue.

A certain eerie aura seemed to begin surging throughout the room—evil, yet somehow full of the scent of life.

Nimrod didn't stay in the study. He walked through the empty second-floor corridor, where lamps at specific positions had been replaced with ritual candles at some point and began to light up.

An evil aura that made one's spine chill gradually rose, spreading through the entire house bit by bit as Nimrod moved forward.

"It's starting."

He said softly, a faint gray mist flashing in his hand.

Also within Roger's residence, Lumian, with the master of the house acting as an insider, was entirely shrouded in a black robe resembling those of Aurora Order members. He peered at the surroundings with a cold gaze through a narrow gap, calculating in his mind how to strike.

In this room, several corpses of gang thugs were piled up. Each corpse had a bloodstain on the neck—clean and decisive, a one-hit kill. A thick smell of blood wafted in the room, but as that ominous aura spread, the scent of blood gradually disappeared from Lumian's nose.

It seemed as if something was absorbing the spirituality within the blood, absorbing the life that had not yet dissipated from these corpses.

Lumian waited patiently for a while longer. He saw a drunken gang member swaying out from the corridor, completely unaware that the frequency of the patrolling thugs appearing was becoming lower and lower.

Lumian smiled silently. He pulled out "fallen mercury" strapped to his back, his body swaying as he quietly merged into the shadows.

In the next instant, the gang member felt a cold sensation flash across his neck.

He clutched his wound but could hardly stop the blood from spurting out. He wanted to call for help, but he saw a desperate and incomprehensible scene:

Flames as bright as a spring day burned upon his blood. He felt his body rapidly turning cold, and his headless neck was like a lit candle.

With a "thud," the headless corpse knelt down powerlessly, while the killer merged into the shadows once more, heading towards the location of the next prey.

The fragmented feeling of potion digestion surged within Nimrod's body.

There was no extra emotion in his eyes. After lighting all the candles used to support the ritual on the second floor, he walked downstairs step by step, a silently floating talisman appearing in his hand.

"Warlock" talisman!

The surrounding vitality gradually became denser. Guided by Nimrod, the talisman floated towards his forehead. Instantly, the "Warlock" abilities surfaced in an orderly manner in Nimrod's mind. The surrounding vitality, which had been scurrying like headless flies, found a master and naturally surged towards this talisman.

And in various corners of this house, those ghostly blue spiritual flames changed.

Bright flames replaced the flames constructed of spirituality, shrouding the entire house in colors reminiscent of a spring day.

Now, this was Nimrod's "territory."

This was the "Warlock" ability, "Land of the Undead"!

This Beyonder ability required long preparation, sufficient vitality, and vengeful souls—but once completed, a "Warlock" within their own territory was almost an invincible existence.

The only problem was that this Beyonder ability was, after all, a type of "ritual magic" ability, which would point towards the Mother Goddess of Depravity.

But—Nimrod was only borrowing the "Warlock" ability through a talisman, and in the case of setting up ritual magic, the target of this Beyonder ability had been modified to an existence named "Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

In the next moment, Nimrod's figure disappeared from the spot, merging into the territory using the "Warlock's" transfer and instantly moving towards the dining room.

In the dining room at this time, except for "Baldy" Harman and "Short Candlestick" Castina, these two sequence 8 "Gardeners," the other gang leaders had all collapsed pale-faced onto the table that had been lively just a moment ago.

Nimrod's mouth still carried a gentle smile as he walked out calmly from a wall with many decorations and came to the middle of the dining table.

"Boss!"

A bit of hope appeared on Harman's face as he called out to Nimrod for help. On the other side, a look of despair appeared on Castina's face. She wanted to move her body, but her constantly draining vitality made it difficult for her to put up any effective resistance.

Almost time—Nimrod smiled and said: "Don't resist."

"I'm sending you to the Mother's side to enjoy eternal peace. What's so bad about that?"

Under Harman's desperate and disbelieving gaze, "Roger's" right hand clenched. The flesh and blood all over Harman's body began to squirm as if it had a life of its own, also turning into bright spring sunlight and spreading around.

However, Nimrod did not "steal" away this vitality belonging to the cultists. Instead, he opened his arms, guiding these flames that were like spring sunlight to spread upwards.

In this way, it wouldn't take long for official Beyonders to discover the abnormality here.

Two "Gardener" boons struggled as they fell into Nimrod's hands, bound by a gray mist, looking like two gray spheres.

On the other side, Louis Lund, who had noticed the movement outside and wanted to come out to seek Roger's help, witnessed this scene with his own eyes. Seeing "Roger" turn his gaze towards him, Louis Lund said with irrepressible horror: "What are you doing?"

Why was he doing this?

Wasn't he going to seek help from the Madam?

Wasn't he afraid of being punished by the other Madam?

"You're asking me why I dare to do this?"

A smile appeared on "Roger's" face.

His face changed rapidly, finally settling into a young man with a broad forehead and black hair.

He chuckled, connected his fingertips to "Sefirah Castle," and took out a monocle from the air. He placed this monocle on his face, and a bit of gray mist rose around him.

Several mysterious runes surfaced on Nimrod's forehead. A semi-transparent talisman detached from Nimrod's forehead, and the two "Gardener" boons merged into this talisman, causing several tiny blood streaks to appear inside it.

"Why do you think I'm doing this?"

"Unfortunately, you probably don't know me."

Nimrod's voice became playful in Louis Lund's ears, and his figure gradually faded, disappearing from Louis's eyes—of course, this was just an Illusion created by Beyonder powers, but it was enough to pierce through Louis Lund's psychological defenses and enough for the demigod behind Louis Lund to confirm his identity.

There was no doubt that in Pualis's judgment, he should be an Amon.

Amon was, after all, the light when the apocalypse arrived. Let Amon suffer a bit more; He would bear the infamy from the Outer Gods' side.

He's not killing me? Why did he change into that appearance in front of me just now?

Louis Lund hadn't reacted yet, but at that moment, he heard the sound of a door being pushed open.

He saw an acquaintance walking out from behind the door, and his gaze instantly froze.

He immediately cursed: "It's you!"

"It's you, you shameless fellow, who destroyed the Mother's faith!"

"I won't let you catch me in a trap again!"

Lumian, covered in bloodstains, heard Louis Lund's accusation and suddenly felt innocent, saying: "I just wanted to ask you some questions and see this old friend of mine—oh, you mean these Stinger Gang people?"

"

Firstly, it's because they wanted to kill me, so I could only act in self-defense, right?"

Glancing at the corpses around him that had died miserable deaths, Lumian smiled: "It's definitely not because I discovered you were sent to the Stinger Gang that I came to take them out ahead of time."

Lumian felt he was truly innocent; he didn't even remember threatening Louis Lund!

Of course, he also guessed it might be because his memory was damaged and he couldn't remember, but he naturally wouldn't tell Louis Lund about his condition.

However, seeing an honest person like Louis Lund here—Lumian actually felt a bit of familiarity.

Louis's face was distorted with anger; he had never seen such a shameless person.

Just then, a sigh came from far away, reaching Lumian's ears: "It seems you've found a powerful backer. If I don't come out now, the things we want to do might not be accomplished."

Madam Pualis's figure appeared opposite Lumian, a smile in her eyes but regret in her tone: "Hehe, I guessed that Madam Moon's subordinates might have some problems, but I didn't expect Roger to have died long ago."

Looking at Madam Pualis appearing before him, Lumian only replied in a calm tone: "Madam Pualis, I have no intention of making an enemy of you. I only want to know the truth and avenge Aurore."

"I've already found some clues and remembered part of my memory, but I still lack decisive evidence."

He took a deep breath: "—When the Parish Priest attacked the castle, what were you doing?"

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#174Chapter 174 Lumiana!

Chapter 174 Lumianna!

"To avenge Aurore——"

Madam Pualis did not answer Lumian's question directly, but chuckled instead: "But have you ever thought that it is very difficult for you to defeat Guillaume Bene now? By the time he left Cordu Village, he was already a Sequence 5 Hunter of Fate."

"Have you ever thought about believing in the Great Mother with me? That way, you can also receive the Great Mother's boon and gain additional help."

Believe in the Great Mother? Am I afraid that I won't explode and lose control fast enough——Lumian fell silent for a long while, held it in for a long time, and finally said euphemistically: "Sorry, I don't want to get pregnant and have children yet."

Compared to getting pregnant and having children, Lumian felt that becoming a female seemed more acceptable.

He previously felt that the "Assassin" Pathway, where a male turns into a female, was a bit extreme. Now, compared to the "Great Mother," Lumian felt that this was still a bit conservative.

"Then why would I tell you? Perhaps you would prefer my other proposal."

Madam Pualis shook her head and said with a smile: "I heard Louis Lund mention that you are currently the leader of 'Passion'——your alias is 'Charles', right? Don't worry, I'm not threatening you. I just hope you can get the people in the area controlled by 'Passion' to support Hugues Artois——"

Speaking of this, Madam Pualis paused for a moment, then said meaningfully: "Otherwise, Madam Moon will also feel angry."

"I know what the name 'Charles' implies, so I don't want a young person like you to die so easily."

Lumian fell into silence once again. After receiving Nimrod's answer in his mind, he nodded and replied to Madam Pualis: "Okay."

Lumian suddenly knew how Louis Lund felt just now. Madam Pualis clearly knew his identity; wasn't this coercion?

However, Lumian didn't care much. After all, he wouldn't be afraid of such coercion for long.

Seeing that Lumian had agreed to her request, Madam Pualis did not intend to make things difficult for him. After all, she had already made a basic judgment and roughly understood who was supporting Lumian from behind.

If Lumian chose to support Hugues Artois to become a member of parliament according to the "Night Travelers" idea, then the Stinger Gang being gone was no big deal. They were just a few "Gardeners" and a "Warlock" anyway. A member of parliament who supported an Outer Deity was one of the things they wanted.

Of course——Madam Pualis looked at Lumian with a smile.

The Great Mother also had a hand in Cordu Village. The long-cherished wish of the ladies of the "Night Travelers" was to help the Great Mother descend.

She exclaimed: "Judging from your words just now, you know much more than I thought. Since that's the case——"

Madam Pualis's expression gradually became distorted, and the original smile had turned into pain: "You should have guessed it too. At that time, Aurore attacked me."

Lumian stood in the truth. Shattered scenes appeared before his eyes. He saw those familiar people from Cordu Village, and he saw Aurore.

That was the scene where Aurore led the Believers of Fate to attack Madam Pualis.

After a "psychotherapy" session, Lumian took a few deep breaths, his eyes flashing with a luster that looked like a reflection of blood.

Madam Pualis looked at Lumian with sympathy, but her tone was shrouded in strong doubt: "I guessed right, you really have forgotten too many things, but you don't seem to be too painful."

".——I had already guessed this matter before, but I just deceived myself because I didn't have evidence." Lumian laughed, squeezing a sound of gnashing teeth from his chest: "The one I believe in told me that inside Aurore's body was a damn evil spirit that believed in Fate."

"That evil spirit should have died long ago. Someone deceived Aurore, made her summon that dead soul onto her own body, and let it seize Aurore's body!"

He raised his head, looked at Madam Pualis who seemed to be pondering Lumian's words, and said to Madam Pualis: "I will find out who those people who summoned the evil spirit are, and I will kill them. The Believers of Fate who cooperated with that evil spirit also deserve to die. None of them should be allowed to live in this world——"

"You are wrong. I am in pain every moment. But precisely because of this, I cannot die. If I die, who will punish those damn people for me? Who will make those Believers of the evil god feel the same pain as me?"

Madam Pualis said with a smile: "I like young people like you who value relationships. So, you have already found clues now?"

"Yes, I found clues." Lumian said frankly: "An organization called April Fools. It was they who deceived Aurore and made that evil spirit possess Aurore. But I don't know more specific things. He did not tell me."

Lumian, who had recovered a bit from the emotional agitation, deliberately used "He" to describe his godfather, wanting to mislead Madam Pualis's judgment and make her think that there was some great existence behind him.

He did not hide this information. One reason was that he felt Madam Pualis had enough ability to investigate the mysterious "April Fools". Secondly, he felt that no matter from which angle, it was unlikely for Madam Pualis to cooperate with "April Fools".

From faith to personal grievances, Madam Pualis had significant conflicts with the collaborators of "Fate"!

Madam Pualis nodded, still unwilling to give up, and cajoled: "Are you really not going to try to join us and believe in the Great Mother? Mother can help you."

The flames formed by the burning of life force began to dim. Lumian also vaguely heard some chaotic sounds coming from far away. He did not answer Madam Pualis's words, but turned and walked into the Darkness.

Madam Pualis's smiling voice came from behind Lumian: "Aren't you worried that I will track you?"

Lumian said without looking back: "Not worried."

He walked out of the villa gate in a few steps and quickly disappeared from Madam Pualis's sight.

Madam Pualis glanced at Louis Lund beside her, the smile on her face gradually disappeared, and she said casually to him: "Let's go, there is nothing of value here. The official Beyonders are coming soon."

Louis Lund nodded tremblingly, but just as Madam Pualis took two steps, her movements stopped.

She whispered: "Disappeared?"

"Godfather, thank you."

Lumian whispered to Nimrod.

Just now, the moment Lumian stepped out of Roger's mansion, he felt that he had crossed a very long distance and came directly to the Market District.

"I am your godfather." Nimrod glanced at Lumian. "I agree with you venting the emotions in your heart. Accumulating emotions in your body will gradually lead you to the Abyss of losing control. For a Beyonder, emotional imbalance means the loss of control of Beyonder characteristics."

Nimrod looked at Lumian and shook his head: "For you, it is an especially serious matter."

Lumian had mixed Beyonder characteristics and angel-level Outer Deity contamination in his body, which was quite easy to lose control.

But then again, the Sea God snake Kavitua could still swallow Beyonder characteristics alive. Nimrod felt that Lumian's talent as a mysticism trash can was also something the original was chasing and feeding him.

"Madam Pualis remembered your location earlier and wanted to try to track you." Nimrod said to Lumian, and a dark blue gemstone like a vertical eye appeared in his hand, falling into a crystal wine glass.

Triss didn't have the ability to provide him with Beyonder characteristics for the time being. This "Witch" characteristic was found by Nimrod in the Aurora Order's inventory.

——Although the Aurora Order and the Demoness Sect were both evil god sects, the lunatics of the Aurora Order had also killed quite a few Demonesses. The True Creator himself had even bewitched the "Death" Salinger to kill the Tudor who was deeply bound to Cheek.

"So, I have to drink the 'Witch' potion now." Lumian let out a breath and calmly accepted this fact: "In this way, my sister's soul can also gradually recover in my body——this is also good."

"Yes." Nimrod added, "But I must remind you: "

"If you die or fall into madness, your sister's situation will become even worse——there is still a possibility of saving spiritual body fragments, but if the soul is completely annihilated and reduced to the most essential spirituality, then even those Sequence 0s cannot save it."

Of course, even so, the "Lord of the Mysteries" could copy an "Aurore Lee" from the fog of history, but this was not a real resurrection, just a copy with the same soul and same memories.

"I know."

Lumian took the wine glass handed by Nimrod. The Beyonder ingredients in the glass had turned into a hazy and romantic rose-red liquid. "I will survive, whether it is for my sister or for myself——"

"I will definitely survive."

He held the wine glass tightly and brought it to his mouth. At this moment, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly: "Godfather."

"What is it?"

"I just want to ask——" Lumian's movements paused, as if he had weighed his tone for a long time: "Cough, Godfather, to what Sequence level have you recovered?"

"Sequence 5." The corners of Nimrod's mouth curled slightly, and he did not hide it: "But I can also use the abilities of a demigod level."

"Demigod——"

Lumian was silent for a few seconds and brought the glass wine glass to his mouth. The rose-red liquid flowed into his mouth, looking like rose-colored blood.

The next moment, Lumian's body twisted. Intense pain made him let out a shrill scream involuntarily, but the Wall of Spirituality that had already been set up stood by like a loyal guard, blocking Lumian's voice.

Lumian's skin twitched, as if it would split into countless pale black snakes in the next second. Between these pale black snakes, black and white eyeballs seemed to have a trend of gradually forming.

Black flames burned silently within it, making Lumian suddenly take on a human form.

Those black flames differentiated and burned those pale black snakes. The tendency to lose control was constantly weakening, but at this moment, a silver-black luster seemed to escape from the middle of these snakes that were knotted together.

Nimrod raised his hand, and suddenly a gray mist rose around, spreading along Nimrod's palm to the humanoid snake mass on the ground:

Although he couldn't help Lumian fight the tendency to lose control, there was a way to use the "Fool"'s ability to fight against Amon who wanted to make trouble in secret!

At the same time, in the infinitely high place, there seemed to be a cold gaze with a hint of doubt cast downwards, fixing its gaze on this humanoid snake mass.

The humanoid snake mass trembled violently, the silver-black luster disappeared quickly, and the gray mark condensed again in the center of the snake mass, but Nimrod vaguely detected some kind of——reluctant feeling in it.

"——Zhou Mingrui, or the Fool?" He whispered: "I don't know what I look like in the eyes of the Fool now."

Black flames burned fiercely in front of Nimrod, and a figure that was much smaller than before walked out of the flames.

She had a thin face, and her pupils were light blue, as clear as a lake. A crazy and sharp aesthetic existed ostentatiously on her body, making her look extremely aggressive.

Of course, Nimrod was also more willing to call the current Lumian "him".

He raised his hand, and a set of clothes he had stored on Sefirah Castle appeared in his hand, which he threw out and covered the girl's body: "From now on, you are Lumianna."

"But I still hope you can remember your true gender and maintain your self-cognition."

" 'Witch' is just the Pathway you ascend, not the goal of your promotion!"

"From now on, your identity is Charles's sister, Triumna Charles (Note 1), and externally claimed to be another cadre of the 'Passion' organization who had performed tasks in other areas."

The corners of Lumian's mouth curled up slowly: "I understand."

He had almost lost control just now. At that moment, he heard the magnificent and overlapping voice of the angel Termiboros, who called himself Fate, in his ears.

If it weren't for the fact that the Seal on his chest had suddenly strengthened and that voice had suddenly disappeared, his promotion would have already failed, and he would have lost control into a Monster mixed with flames and poisonous snakes.

"Regarding the Market District, I will contact Anthony personally."

Nimrod nodded gently, took a subtle look at the back of his hand, and said to Lumian with a slightly faster tone: "Tomorrow, you can return to 'Passion' and become the third cadre on the surface."

"You can go back."

Lumian gave an "En", and walked towards the other end of the Market District, barefoot and wrapped in a black robe.

He was planning to find "Red Boots" Franca to stay for the night, and by the way, ask Franca what to pay attention to after changing from a male to a female.

Late at night, Franca, who was urgently contacted by Lumian, stared dumbfounded at the girl with an impatient expression in front of her: "Holy shit."

"Awesome, brother. You are a true warrior."

Chapter 175: Return, the Status of the Foundation, and Count Hall's Request

The next morning, sunlight spilled over Backlund, which was already in the midst of autumn, gilding the city that was shrouded in smog all year round with a touch of gold.

Unlike Trier, where people indulged in the pleasures of life and gave free rein to their desires, Backlund appeared civilized and elegant—though of course, this required ignoring the billowing smoke, the dark gray sky, and the barbaric plunder hidden beneath the veneer of civilization.

Nimrod, who had returned to the "mysteries timeline," sat in a spacious and bright office. This was the office of the Fried Company Foundation. Although it shared the same name as the company, the management behind it was not just the Fried Company; it belonged to the Fried Company, the Hall Family, and the Church of the Night.

And Nimrod was now one of the main managers of this charitable foundation, responsible for handling and drafting the affairs of the entire foundation—after all, the establishment of the foundation had been proposed by Baron Fried, and since the Church and the Hall Family had no objections, he naturally became the master of the entire foundation.

In the office, Nimrod looked at the proposal written by professionals and handed to him, nodding slightly: "Your ideas are very good, and you have listened to my suggestions. You hope to cooperate with some factories to help them find work. At the same time, you also want to give those who have lost their jobs a chance to start over and provide them with financial subsidies?"

The clerk sitting opposite Nimrod, upon hearing his words, was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when he suddenly heard Mr. Fried change the subject: "But have you ever thought that what those unemployed people need is not just a simple job, nor a chance to start over, but a sense of security?"

Seeing the clerk's somewhat puzzled gaze, Nimrod shook his head gently and said to him: "Do you know what kind of people the workers in Backlund mostly are?"

"Most of them are residents who migrated to Backlund from other places, coming here for higher wages and remuneration. Their parents might have the same status, also being workers in Backlund, but their grandparents would not be. Do you know why?"

"Because workers in Backlund often do not have a third generation of descendants."

"In most factories in Backlund, the lifespan of a worker is calculated in 'months.' In those factories that use child labor, there are even children whose lives are calculated in 'days' and 'hours.' Even though the government has been legislating to change this situation, you are also aware of the government's efficiency."

For a government composed of vested interests, even if laws are passed, how quickly can the people below respond?

The police of the Kingdom of Loen are not like the police in the country where Nimrod was before he transmigrated; the Loen police are truly capable of ignoring kidnapping cases to investigate private detectives for illegal possession of firearms.

Because the latter can really be extorted by them for a considerable amount of money.

And in such a country, machines burn the blood and Passion of the poor who yearn for life, running day and night, eventually accumulating festering sores in every corner of the city.

"—Therefore, even if we give them a full meal and stuff them into factories to work, they will lose their jobs again in the operation of the machinery."

He paused: "Furthermore, giving them money directly is also inappropriate."

Nimrod said mercilessly: "There are many people in East Borough who need our support. How much money do you want to give them? 1 pound, or 1 soli? We cannot afford the former, and the latter can only provide them with a few meager meals, which cannot improve their lives."

"Besides, you don't understand East Borough."

"Their money will be stolen by local gangs and hooligans, and their lives will still not be improved."

"My suggestion is to build a narrow, simple, but sheltered dormitory in the name of the foundation to provide them with some convenience. Provide them with food, but not too good. I believe the nature of most people in East Borough is kind, but even the kindest heart cannot withstand the accumulated hunger and exhaustion."

The clerk spoke subconsciously: "Are you talking about something like a poorhouse? But it would be difficult for us to sustain that—"

"Not just that." Nimrod shook his head: "This kind of dormitory needs to be built in sync with factories, mainly selecting those who have the ability to work but are unable to complete heavy manual labor in factories."

"They need to recover from a state of extreme fatigue. We will only provide them with food and medicine to let them gradually recover their state, and gradually guide them to regain formal work after they have a certain amount of savings as a guarantee."

"The Fried Company will assist this kind of welfare-oriented factory in completing the sales process. In this regard, I will apply for the Church to intervene to prevent problems of internal personnel abusing their power for personal gain."

"In addition, normal poorhouses should also be built, but considering the existing funding problems, there won't be too many; and those students who are determined to need support must sign a contract with us. After completing the support, they need to accept the work we provide."

Nimrod paused: "In this regard, I will discuss it with Count Hall and the Church to determine the final plan. You modify it according to what I said and submit it to me for review later."

Just then, a voice somewhat familiar to Nimrod came from the doorway: "No need to trouble yourself to make another trip. I heard everything you just said, Baron Fried."

The person who came was Count Hall. He smiled and clapped his hands, expressing his approval of Nimrod's words just now.

And beside Count Hall, his daughter, Audrey, was following him, arm in arm with her father.

Upon seeing Audrey, Nimrod knew why Count Hall had come here at the first opportunity—Audrey wanted her father to see for himself this foundation that she had participated in.

Count Hall walked over to another chair in front of Nimrod and sat down, sighing: "Your ideas are excellent, as if you have seen the plight of those people in East Borough with your own eyes. Hmm, I believe you have conducted a serious investigation—there are always some philanthropists who are unwilling to lower their heads to look at the suffering of those poor people, and in the end, they fail to achieve any results."

Count Hall shook his head gently: "You cannot be left alone to negotiate with the Church. I will also contact the Church side and let the Church's bishop get involved in the management and supervision of this aspect."

Nimrod nodded: "That would be best. The Fried Company alone cannot complete such a massive operation, and the company is expanding too fast right now. There will definitely be some people who want to seize some benefits for themselves. I don't quite trust these people yet."

He chuckled: "This is all I can do—it should take a long time to gradually get on the right track, and it also requires pushing the government to improve the corresponding laws. After all, this is a matter of social security."

Nimrod naturally drew the Holy Emblem of the Evernight Goddess on his chest: "But as people who control the means of production, we should feel guilty when we see hardworking people suffering."

"No need to blame yourself," Count Hall shook his head, "Many charitable foundations cannot reach your level."

Of course, he could not tell Dionysus that many foundations set up by nobles were intended to divide the poor, making them fight among themselves, and unable to organize strikes and protests.

As one of the representatives of the New Party, Count Hall found this new noble more and more pleasing to the eye, even seeing a shadow of his own youth in the Dionysus before him, believing that Dionysus had considerable potential.

He turned his head and said to his daughter, who was sitting obediently beside him: "Audrey, didn't you say you wanted to see the specific situation of the foundation? It just so happens that Baron Fried's assistant is here; he can take you to understand the specific operations of the foundation."

Dad is hinting for me to leave—he has something he doesn't want me to know! Audrey immediately "read" the subtext in her father's words, but she didn't say anything more, instead obediently following the clerk toward the door.

Dad doesn't know that I still have contact with Mr. Lovers in private—he still thinks of me as a child, but I can go ask Mr. Lovers later!

The door was carefully closed by the clerk. Count Hall sat down and sighed: "Although it is a bit embarrassing to say, I have some things I need your help with this time."

"—You need my help?"

Nimrod showed some confusion at the right time, because he was currently just a Baron—the Church knew his identity but was unlikely to tell Count Hall, who was not even a Beyonder, let alone the fact that even Archbishop Anthony only vaguely knew his identity.

Count Hall nodded, weighing his words, and replied: "Yes, this is also a request from the Church."

A request from the Church—Nimrod listened to Count Hall's words: "The Church has noticed that there seems to be a secretly spreading faith in the True Creator in East Borough, and there are cases of missing persons. But—the Church seems more concerned about the latter, wanting to confirm the evidence within it."

Count Hall did not hesitate too much and said quite fluently: "You know, this requires the joint efforts of many detectives and reporters. I am also paying attention to this matter, but my energy alone is not enough after all. Perhaps you might have some new discoveries on your side."

Could a member of the Church of the Night have hinted something to Count Hall? Nimrod gently stroked his chin, feeling that Count Hall should not show too much inclination—especially when it involved sensitive matters like the "Aurora Order."

Aurora Order's "Mr. L." Nimrod agreed to Count Hall's words: "No problem, I will commission some reporters and detectives to investigate. However, I have some other ideas that might also help us find some clues that they might find difficult to notice."

Count Hall raised his eyebrows: "Tell me in detail?"

"Why don't we seek help directly from the people we are supporting?"

Nimrod nodded slightly: "Supporting them does not mean we cannot hire them. As long as we are clear that what we are doing is not for our own profit, and we do not leave any actual evidence, even a sensitive organization like a charitable foundation can play a certain role."

Count Hall gently pinched his well-trimmed mustache with his fingers and slowly stood up: "But you must pay attention to the corresponding public opinion."

"Of course," Nimrod said with a smile, "The Fried Company's cultural industry will provide me with help in this regard."

At night, as Nimrod was sitting on top of the office building, reviewing the information from detectives and reporters collected by various "Listeners" and "Secrets Supplicants," he suddenly heard a voice appear in his ear: "Miss Justice wishes to communicate with you."

"If you are willing to accept, contact me."

Audrey? Hearing Klein's voice, Nimrod's hand paused for a moment, but the next moment he nodded and recited the "honorable name" of the "Fool."

He prepared to fund some reporters in his own name to investigate the situation of the people in East Borough. The Church's purpose in investigating East Borough was to determine if any evil god would use this to descend. He had already hinted to the Church of the Night to this extent; if they still couldn't figure out the Demoness Sect's intentions, it would be an insult to the Church's professionalism.

However, the cooperation between the Aurora Order and the Demoness Sect was not fake; it was just that they were preparing to let the True Creator descend in another way. How could this be considered deception?

Between flashes of thought, Nimrod's surroundings had already turned into the eternal gray fog, and Audrey was sitting opposite him.

Audrey took a deep breath: "Good evening, Mr. Lovers."

"Good evening." Nimrod nodded: "What do you want to ask me?"

"I have two things I want to consult you about." Audrey stated the questions she had thought of beforehand: "The first thing is, what did Dad say to you?"

Audrey added: "I can pay the corresponding remuneration."

Nimrod and Miss Justice's father, Count Hall, had reached some kind of agreement? Klein raised his eyebrows, hiding behind the gray fog and eavesdropping on the conversation between the two.

"This is a very simple matter." Nimrod shook his head and refused Audrey's remuneration: "He asked me to help collect some information about East Borough. This is a tedious task, but not a difficult one."

The situation in East Borough? Why did Dad suddenly want to collect information about East Borough?

Audrey secretly noted this intelligence in her heart, then continued: "The second thing is a request. Mr. Lovers, the digestion progress of my 'Telepathist' potion is not very fast. I hope to get more opportunities for acting—do you have any secret organizations you recommend I join?"

Of course, it cannot be the Aurora Order—Audrey shouted in her heart.

However, contrary to her expectations, Nimrod's answer was: "The Psychology Alchemists control the 'Spectator' Pathway. Perhaps many famous 'Psychiatrists' you know are also members. I do not recommend you join them, but I do suggest you become a 'Psychiatrist.' This will allow you to digest 'Telepathist' and act as a 'Psychiatrist' in advance."

Speaking of this, a slight smile appeared on the corner of Nimrod's mouth: "The Fried Foundation is quite short of 'Psychiatrists.' Would you like to try giving psychological counseling to the poor people in East Borough? I can help you hide your identity."

A person's concepts are shaped by their own experiences, and sympathy and tragedy are a medicine for the soul.

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#176Chapter 176 Mike

Chapter 176: Mike

"I need to find a reliable detective to protect me. Unfortunately, Talim told me that many detectives have already been hired by other reporters recently—"

Mike walked down the street, holding a piece of paper covered in writing, feeling quite troubled.

Recently, Fried Company issued an interview assignment to the reporters working for them. This task required going to the East Borough. Being a reporter is considered a relatively decent profession, but going to the East Borough is not a simple matter for them.

In the East Borough, thieves, hooligans, and gangs run rampant. It is the most dangerous place in all of Backlund. For any reporter, they cannot risk entering the East Borough alone. If there really were such a reckless person, their fate would certainly not be good.

At best, they would be robbed of all their belongings; at worst, they would become a corpse in the Tussock River.

Mike was well-informed; he knew that many of his peers had gone to find private detectives to assist them in entering the East Borough, which also led to—he was now having some difficulty finding a reliable detective.

Of course, this "difficulty" was limited to the next two or three days, but for a newspaper, whoever reports the news obtained from the interview first will be able to capture more market share.

Although Mike was not a reporter contributing to Fried Company, the editor-in-chief of his newspaper also arranged for him to go to the East Borough to cover related news.

With Fried Company, a behemoth that had emerged suddenly in the past few months, Mike felt immense pressure. He could almost see his bonus gradually drifting away from him.

"Perhaps I can go ask my other friends—no later than tomorrow, no, I must find a reliable detective or bodyguard by tonight. If all else fails, I'll have to spend more money to get this task done!"

He muttered, preparing to walk toward the residence of the next detective he had originally scouted.

But just then, the noisy sound of many people gathering together caught Mike's attention. He subconsciously looked over there. While hearing an exclamation, Mike's gaze also took in the scene on the street:

A street Magician was performing a magic show. The Magician wore black gloves, and his face was painted with gaudy greasepaint like a circus Clown, but he was wearing a proper tuxedo.

Just as Mike turned his head, the Magician tossed his hat high into the air. In an instant, countless bright bouquets bloomed in the air, and each bunch of flowers ignited without fire, turning into brilliant fireworks that burned out instantly above everyone's heads.

The clinking coins and tossed banknotes fell into the top hat that "happened" to land in front of the crowd. The smiling makeup on the Clown Magician's face seemed to become a little brighter.

"What a wonderful magic show—"

Mike complimented him subconsciously, but because he was busy rushing to the next detective's home, he did not stop and instead walked quickly into the distance.

However, when he failed to knock on this detective's door, Mike knew he had been beaten to the punch again. There were many private detectives in Backlund, but not many could be considered reliable.

Just as he gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh and prepared to find the next one, he saw a familiar person greeting him: "I heard you want to find a reliable detective to take you to the East Borough?"

Mike was stunned for a moment and subconsciously replied: "That's right—how did you know?"

"Recently, many reporters have been looking for detectives, saying they want to go to the East Borough for some interview assignments."

The "Clown Magician" said with a smile: "Perhaps I can fulfill your commission. I might not look like it, but in reality, I am a private detective working at a Detective Agency."

"You?" Mike's first reaction was to find it a bit funny: "Aren't you a Magician? Although your magic is wonderful, I don't think you can help me with the investigation."

The "Clown Magician" sighed: "Friend, you should know how difficult the life of a private detective is. When I can't get any commissions, I also hope to use my skills to subsidize my life."

His fingertips moved nimbly, and Mike could vaguely see the glimmer of coins flickering between his flying fingers: "Perhaps you need some protection? I was also a Clown for a while, and I consider myself quite capable in terms of physical skills."

The Magician had a brilliant smile on his face; he was the "Magician" Klein.

When Mike passed by him, Klein had already noticed him—the "Magician's" constitution was very strong, and Klein had keenly seen the paper filled with text in Mike's hand, roughly understanding Mike's purpose.

However, he didn't take this commission just for money. Recently, at the Detective Agency, Klein had received a few reporters, but after hearing that they hadn't solved any cases, these reporters got cold feet.

There was no way around it; after all, most of the cases Klein and the others solved involved the arrangements of Ince Zangwill, which only accumulated merit within the Church and could not be announced in newspapers.

As a result, the "performance" of the Detective Agency didn't look very good.

But the Detective Agency was not without gains:

One reporter gritted his teeth and hired Leonard, who looked the youngest and most robust, as his bodyguard, letting Leonard accompany him into the East Borough—after all, apart from Klein, Leonard did indeed look the strongest in terms of combat power.

Dunn looked a bit old, Daly was a woman, and Nimrod—Nimrod only held a nominal position, basically using the Detective Agency as a channel for communication.

And Klein was now a bit suspicious that encountering this reporter, Mike, who wanted to go to the East Borough for an interview, was once again an artificially arranged coincidence. But he was indeed planning to go to the East Borough for some investigation, so naturally, he had to strive for this assignment.

Moreover, the remuneration for such personal assignments was not low, and Klein could get the vast majority of the money.

Without the need to painstakingly collect Beyonder materials himself, Klein had now accumulated a small treasury, used for personal expenses and improving the standard of living for his brother and sister.

Of course, from the news coming from the Church, Benson had become an excellent clerical member and got along quite well with the other Nighthawks of the Church. He was now hesitating about whether to become a Beyonder.

It was precisely because of Benson and Melissa that after Klein felt that his encounter with the reporter in front of him might be a "coincidence," he made up his mind to contact Captain Dunn first, letting the Church continue to pay attention to his situation.

This wasn't cowardice; this was being steady!

Klein silently clenched his fist in his heart, believing this was a necessary safeguard for acting as the Church's bait.

Mike sized up the appearance of the "Magician" in front of him, clearly still not quite trusting Klein's professional competence.

Klein saw the doubt in Mike's heart and smiled indifferently: "I can demonstrate my personal abilities; I believe this will dispel your doubts."

Just as Klein himself said, his current actions had obvious traces of performance—this was because he was preparing to actively digest the "Magician" potion to quickly possess the ability to become a Sequence 6 Beyonder.

A few days ago, Klein had already received a reply from Azik and obtained the properly sealed "creeping hunger," barely possessing the possibility of escaping in front of a demigod.

Klein had even made plans that if the Church didn't have the "Faceless" characteristic, the "Faceless" portion within the "creeping hunger" in his hands could serve as his own promotion material.

Unfortunately, even though Mr. Azik helped me Seal this beyonder item, it still requires it to devour flesh and blood after every use of its ability. Otherwise, relying on the "Magician's" "Paper Figurine Substitute" and "Flame Jump," these quite powerful life-saving means, I would now have the confidence to fight against a Sequence 5—

Thoughts flew through Klein's mind, but his movements did not stop.

He stepped back two paces, bent his legs slightly, jumped upward, climbed onto the building with ease, and then landed like a feather.

"—That was wonderful!"

This miraculous scene had already dazzled Mike, and he exclaimed subconsciously: "Which Detective Agency do you work for? You know, the East Borough is very dangerous, and I just hope to ensure my own safety."

The corners of Klein's mouth curled up slightly. He gently pressed his magic top hat, which was previously filled with coins and banknotes; he knew Mike was tempted.

Klein pushed open the door of the Detective Agency, poured Mike a cup of tea, and said to him: "I must explain to you in advance that recently many reporters have hoped for someone to protect them while they go to the East Borough for interview reports, and one of my colleagues has also accepted a protection assignment for other reporters."

Mike nodded gently, quickly observed the environment around him, and said after careful consideration: "As long as it doesn't affect my commission, that's fine. Of course, I will hire a Lawyer to draft an agreement that you cannot leak the interview information I obtain."

Klein had thought of this point before and answered calmly: "Of course, please rest assured. I have very good professional ethics—when you are conducting interviews, I can also avoid the area if necessary."

Just at this moment, Klein noticed that Mike's gaze kept lingering on the surrounding decorations, as if he were thinking about something.

Does he think the interior decoration of our Detective Agency is quite different from other Detective Agencies?

That's true; this place has already been bought by the Church, and we certainly made some renovations—

The Tingen Squad's renovations here weren't too extensive, but the differences in the details could reveal the atmosphere here. Compared to Detective Agencies pieced together by various detectives, this place looked more like a house rented by a single detective. Simply put, it was like there was a "family" atmosphere.

The corners of Klein's mouth also curled up slightly, thinking of Benson and Melissa who were still in Tingen City.

He was now quite eager to resolve the matter of Ince Zangwill before November. By then, Klein would be able to take leave and go back to spend the New Year with his brother and sister.

Speaking of which—Klein hesitated for a moment, and such a thought suddenly popped into his mind:

Nimrod, who transmigrated into an "Amon" avatar, shouldn't have any family in this world, right?

Hmm, those Amon avatars certainly don't count as his family. In that case, should I invite him to be a guest at my home during the New Year?

If he wishes to spend the New Year with us, I have to find a way to convince Benson and Melissa; after all, this doesn't conform to Loen customs—

Klein snapped out of his wandering thoughts, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, and said to Mike, who was still curiously observing the surrounding environment: "Please tell me the specific details of your commission, Mr. Mike. If you feel uneasy because we haven't signed a contract yet, we can go to a separate room to discuss it."

Mike's attention was also shifted back by Klein's words: "No problem, Detective Moriarty."

Mike briefly recounted his commission. Klein thought for a moment and quickly pointed out several details and precautions that Mike hadn't mentioned just now: "I will prepare a set of clothes for you. Hmm, you cannot dress too well in the East Borough, otherwise, it will easily add many unnecessary troubles to your interview. Believe me, once you get involved in those troubles, you will have to spend the rest of your day dealing with trouble and the police."

"In addition, we need to determine in advance which groups of people we are interviewing and determine how to persuade them to accept the interview."

Mike blurted out in slight astonishment: "Persuade?"

Although you just said you did your homework on the situation in the East Borough, you still don't understand the situation in the East Borough—Klein nodded gently: "Yes."

"Most people in the East Borough are very busy and don't have time to be interviewed—those vagrants might have time, but you need to prepare the remuneration for them in advance; it cannot be too much, nor too little."

"Similarly, if you need to interview those who have busy jobs, you need to prepare their remuneration or negotiate a time. Sometimes you might only get the chance to interview them late at night."

Mike nodded cautiously: "I understand. I need some time. Tomorrow, can we set off tomorrow?"

Klein said with a smile: "Of course."

He felt that he also had to make some preparations; after all, this gentleman clearly didn't know the situation in the East Borough. Even though he had given a reminder in advance, he felt that Reporter Mike might still have some oversights.

Before transmigrating to this world, Zhou Mingrui often encountered this situation—the client's requirements were unclear, the boss couldn't understand his words, and could even say things like, "Where did you put the document I asked you to put in my drawer yesterday?" which made Zhou Mingrui feel it was necessary to make preparations in advance.

Just as Klein was seeing Mike out of his room, a tall and thin figure walked into the Detective Agency and happened to see Mike beside Klein, asking in a calm tone: "Moriarty, have you received a new commission?"