Chapter 170: Confession!

Chapter 170: The Confession!

At four in the morning, Karen had already arrived before the academic affairs building. He first made his way to the floor where Fanni had taken him to collect his equipment, remembering that a specialized shop operated up there.

Fortunately, though the standard of service left much to be desired, the place was staffed and open twenty-four hours a day. This was only natural; the credit underpinning the vouchers issued by each church rested entirely on the various resources those very vouchers could buy and redeem.

Entering the apparel section, Karen stated directly that he wanted a divine robe, and that it had to be custom-made. A member of the clergy who doubled as a tailor walked in after being notified by the front desk, measured Karen’s dimensions, and then handed him a form to fill out.

From the simplest preferences regarding style and color to the requirements for the array formations to be inscribed below, he checked the boxes one by one.

To Karen’s slight astonishment, as he ticked the options, the black number in the upper left corner shifted continuously. If he selected a costlier detail, the price immediately reflected the increase; if he crossed it out and chose something cheaper, the price promptly dropped.

Ultimately, Karen finished making all his selections.

He chose two inscribed array formations. One was the Natural Array; once worn, it regulated temperature according to external changes, effectively serving as a portable air conditioner.

The other was the Self-Cleaning Array, which, as the name implied, could independently perform its own washing.

It was not that Karen did not wish to choose an array with defensive attributes, but every single one of that nature was prohibitively expensive. Moreover, since he already possessed the Sea God’s Armor, he could afford to disregard the defensive capabilities of his clothing for the time being.

Even so, the price reached twelve hundred Order vouchers.

Thus, the hard-earned monthly stipend of the current Mr. Pavaro was only enough to buy a single piece of clothing here.

However, this custom robe did come with a pair of boots, a hat, and a full set of accessories. While it was not enough to make Karen feel he had struck a bargain, it offered at least a small modicum of comfort.

No wonder the black market flourished so vigorously; the monopoly shops run by the Church were truly extortionate.

Once the order was signed and the deposit paid, the counter clerk stamped the form.

Karen noticed that the man smiled even as he pressed the stamp down, as if mocking him for coming here for custom clothing instead of going to the black market.

"Very well, my lord. In seven days, you may return with this slip to collect your garments. Alternatively, you may leave an address; for merchandise exceeding one thousand Order vouchers, we offer home delivery, restricted to the York City area."

"No need, I will come to collect it myself."

"Understood, my lord. Is there anything else you require?"

"No."

Karen walked over to the dedicated elevator and pressed the button.

The doors parted to reveal the elevator attendant standing inside, who offered Karen a smile and gestured for him to present his pass.

Karen produced the ring. The attendant did not even examine it before signaling that he could enter.

Was it because it looked so cheap at a glance that its authenticity was certain, making inspection unnecessary?

When the elevator doors opened again, Karen stepped into the office. He had imagined he would be the first to arrive, yet upon entering, he discovered Peige and Fanni already seated on the sofa.

As for the others, including Neo, Karen saw no sign of them. They were likely assembling at another location; the three of them, tasked with close protection, presumably formed an independent cell.

"My apologies, I am late," Karen said.

"No need to apologize, we have only just arrived ourselves," Fanni replied with a smile.

"Heh."

Today, Peige displayed none of her previous exaggeration or dominance, evidently aware that they had entered operational hours.

Furthermore, she had removed her nose and lip rings, and instead of her hot, tight leather gear, she wore black casual attire, while Fanni was dressed in professional wear.

"You chose your clothes well today," Fanni remarked, looking at Karen.

Karen had selected a somewhat formal outfit for the day, though it possessed a ruggedness in the details that lent him an approachable air without sacrificing a sense of rigor.

This had been Karen’s dressing habit when facing patients in the past.

"Can we begin?" Peige inquired.

Fanni glanced at the wall clock, nodded, and stood up. "According to the Captain's assignment, the three of us have been designated as a separate cell. I am the cell leader, and Peige is the deputy leader."

Karen, the sole operative, gave a nod.

"I will be responsible for the administrative itinerary.

Peige will handle close-quarters security.

Karen, your task is to assist us."

"Understood."

"This is the basic dossier. Take a look." Fanni handed a sheet to both Peige and Karen.

On the paper was a photograph of a girl with dark red hair, who looked exceedingly solemn and commanding at a single glance.

The introduction beneath the photograph was brief: Ophelia.

A single photo, a single name.

Those in the know would understand their squad was responsible for security; those who didn't might think they were handling an assassination.

It contained far less information than what he had managed to coax out of Purr yesterday using pickled fish regarding the Dark Moon family. His own preparations had been so meticulous that he had intentionally learned a few Dark Moon Island greetings from Purr, several lines of which had left a deep impression on Karen and were committed to memory:

"It is the mottling beneath the afterglow of the dark moon that allows me to see the true you." (A greeting for friends meeting.)

"The blood-colored rim outlines the footsteps of your arrival, and shall bear the sails of your departure." (Welcome and farewell.)

Such preparations bore ample testament to the gravity Karen attached to his first mission.

However, this was not merely because they were only responsible for security; there lay a deeper reason. The Dark Moon family confined their activities almost exclusively to Dark Moon Island. Like the Anawas family, their members rarely entered human society, and the major churches remained highly wary of them.

The high command of the Church of Order undoubtedly possessed information on them, but it was restricted to the corresponding high-level departments. The middle and lower echelons actually knew next to nothing about this family.

"We move out now."

Karen followed Fanni and Peige into the elevator, which descended to the underground parking lot. They drove out in a luxury business vehicle of the exact same model that had met Karen at the pier on behalf of the Allen estate on his first day in York City.

Peige took the wheel, while Karen sat in the back with Fanni.

"Nervous?" Peige asked Karen. "This is your first mission."

Karen shook his head. "I feel fine."

"Just maintain a calm mind. Under normal circumstances, we have yet to encounter a delegation that would give us an attitude."

"Understood."

The car arrived at the pier and pulled into the internal parking lot.

Fanni stepped out of the vehicle to handle the handover protocol.

Peige came to the back, retrieved a bottle of soda from the beverage fridge, and flicked the cap with her fingertip.

"Pop."

She then began to drink the soda in a highly robust fashion, draining the bottle in a single breath.

"Want one?"

"I am not thirsty."

"Alright then, I’ll take a rest first. You should get some sleep too; there is still a long time before the ship makes port."

"Okay."

Peige lowered her seat and lay flat upon it. Before long, snoring commenced. It was not feigned, for Karen knew that those adept at managing their energy could fall asleep with great ease.

Karen lowered his own seat as well, lay back, and closed his eyes.

His sleep was fitful, waking roughly every fifteen or twenty minutes, casting a glance at the soundly sleeping Paige beside him before checking the situation outside;

With his mind weighed down by concern, peaceful slumber eluded him.

Finally, upon his last awakening, Karen saw that Paige was already up and standing outside, with Vanni facing her as though they were locked in conversation.

Feeling a sudden touch of embarrassment, Karen quickly stowed his seat, pulled open the car door, and stepped out.

"Oh, look who's awake," Paige said with a smile.

Vanni spoke up: "The ship has arrived and is currently being guided into the harbor. The delegation should disembark in about half an hour."

"So, what do we do now..." Karen asked.

Vanni lifted the bag in her hand: "Right now, of course, we eat."

With that, Paige and Vanni squatted down by the side of the car and began to eat.

Karen held his own portion and squatted opposite them, but because Vanni was wearing a professional short skirt;

Karen stood back up and moved to squat on the same side as them.

Vanni looked at Karen with curiosity and asked, "What's the matter, did I spoil your appetite?"

"No," Karen replied, shaking his head as he used his fork to eat a piece of fried chicken.

"Want a look? It's fine," Vanni said. "You can ask me to strike any pose you like."

Paige asked, puzzled, "So you prefer the professional look? A pity, I wore trousers today."

Caught completely unawares by these two "enthusiastic" older sisters of the squad, Karen could only bury his head and keep eating.

Given a choice, next time he would rather hide in the shadows with the captain to provide protection.

"Are you angry?"

"No, not at all."

"You really are amusing." Vanni shook her head. "Don't be cross, we just couldn't help ourselves. It's just like how you men always want to tease a pure young girl when you see one; we women like to play with a pure young colt when we find one."

Karen remarked, "Understandable. Security work must be quite tedious, after all."

"Hahaha," Vanni laughed. "You really are adorable."

Paige chimed in, "Vanni, you're not allowed to steal him from me."

"Pff, if I compete with you for him, wouldn't he taste even sweeter to you?"

"Oh, I suppose that's true."

Karen sighed inwardly; he was undoubtedly experiencing workplace harassment and a touch of mild bullying, yet he happened to be the youngest rookie in the squad, and a male at that;

Worse still, even if he were to complain to his friends about this, far from offering sympathy... they would only envy him.

Yet Karen genuinely disliked the feeling, and could only hope that with more time spent together, everyone would naturally learn not to cross the line.

After finishing their meal, Vanni checked her watch and said, "Five minutes to attend to personal business and adjust your attire, then prepare for the reception."

"Yes."

"Yes."

There happened to be a restroom nearby, so Karen went to wash his face and then walked out.

Fortunately, they only needed to keep their clothing neat and tidy, without any need for deliberate makeup or the like.

Once everyone returned to the vehicle, Paige took the wheel and drove over to the disembarkation point of the pier, where a cruise liner had just docked and the gangplank was being deployed.

The forward section was reserved for truly distinguished guests, while the aft was for ordinary tourists.

With the car parked, Vanni stood at the very front in her professional attire, while Karen and Paige stood behind her. Karen mirrored Paige, standing with his feet slightly apart and his hands folded in front of him.

However, Karen noticed that their security squad seemed to be the only ones present to "welcome" them; he saw no officials from the Church at the pier, which probably reflected the sheer heritage and stature of the Church of Order—even for a delegation from the Dark Moon family, they merely assigned a bodyguard detail, leaving all else to take place at the reception hotel.

It was not a welcome upon arrival, but rather an audience granted to a long-distance traveler at the hotel.

Above, people began to make their way down.

Leading the way was Ophelia, clad in dark crimson robes that lent her an air of deep mystery and nobility.

To her left and slightly behind followed a masked female warrior wearing red-and-black armor with a sword strapped to her back.

To her right followed a maid who appeared to be around thirty years old, possessing a powerful aura of her own. While Ophelia simply walked down normally, the maid's gaze had already swept ahead across Karen and the others below several times.

This was an inspection technique, clear and unmistakable, yet precisely because it was so overt, it did not provoke resentment from those being scrutinized.

Karen recalled Purr mentioning that members of the Dark Moon family possessed only given names and no surnames, believing themselves to be the radiance of the Dark Moon, with the Dark Moon as their core essence.

Furthermore, while the family crest of the Dark Moon was a bloody moon, the specific insignias borne by individual members varied.

Ordinary members of the Dark Moon family could only wear a single bloody crescent moon on their garments. Depending on their status and rank within the family, the number of crescents could stack up to a maximum of seven, which was the highest tier beneath the patriarch; within the entire family, only the patriarch could use a full moon.

As Ophelia walked down, Karen noticed four bloody crescents on her robes;

The maid to her right bore a single bloody crescent;

This functioned much like a title of nobility, though outsiders cared far more about the distinction of strength and assignment. That Ophelia could serve as the spokesperson for the delegation proved her standing in the family was surely high, and the maid beside her was certainly no minor figure either.

But then, Karen noticed the female warrior on Ophelia's left; the crescents on her armor actually numbered seven.

This... wasn't right, was it?

Though in a grand family, a maid close to the first lady could make an unfortunate elder bow in greeting, such an arrangement was impossible on a formal occasion. Surely the one with the highest seniority and rank would stand at the forefront, especially when facing a colossus like the Church of Order, where etiquette would be scrutinized even more closely.

Vanni spoke up: "I will confirm the target of protection first. Once the target is confirmed, the security mission officially begins."

"Yes," Paige said.

"Yes," Karen said.

Vanni stepped forward and said to Ophelia, "Praise Order. Welcome."

Ophelia responded with equal courtesy, "The radiance of the Dark Moon thanks Order for its guidance."

"Greetings. I am the leader of the close protection group for this conference security detail. From this moment on, my captain, my teammates, and I will be responsible for your safety during your stay in York City.

Now, I must perform a final verification of your identity. May I ask, are you Miss Ophelia, the head of this delegation?"

"I am."

"Very well, Miss Ophelia. Please step into the vehicle. You may select two attendants to accompany you. We will escort you to the reception hotel first, while arrangements for the rest of the delegation will follow."

"Understood. Thank you for your hard work."

"It is my duty."

Paige slipped into the driver's seat while Karen opened the car door.

Ophelia walked up to Karen. As she went to enter the car, she instinctively extended her hand for assistance—a habitual gesture from daily life rooted in old carriage etiquette—but Karen simply stood there without offering his hand.

Vanni witnessed this, her expression unchanging;

Paige, sitting in the driver's seat, merely assumed it was Karen's first mission and that he was unfamiliar with such protocols.

It was a minor interlude, entirely inconsequential, and no one paid it much mind.

Ophelia, however, gave Karen an extra look with a smile, as if to say, I remember you;

Then, she stepped inside the car.

The maid followed closely behind;

Finally, it was the female warrior. As she stepped beside the carriage door, Cullen extended the back of his hand and bowed slightly, greeting her to board with perfect etiquette.

The female warrior froze;

The scene looked utterly farcical;

A towering female warrior being offered a formal boarding salute felt completely absurd no matter how one looked at it, especially when contrasted with the moment just before when Cullen had ignored Mistress Ophelia, making the visual impact all the more jarring.

But right at that moment,

Fanny and Peige's gazes both sharpened. They realized what Cullen meant: that Ophelia was not the true one; the real Ophelia was this female warrior.

"Hum!"

The female warrior drew the sword from her back. Cullen stood there motionless, and neither Fanny nor Peige stirred.

For no one believed that the people of the Dark Moon Family would strike against the Church of Order on such a formal occasion, unless the Dark Moon Family was determined to endure the wrath of the Church of Order.

The flat of the longsword descended, resting against the back of Cullen's hand.

Cullen noticed the ridges on either side of the longsword, with a groove down the middle, where lines of blood could faintly be seen flowing, emitting an aura that felt deeply familiar to him—it was the aura of the Dark Moon Blade.

This sword had to be a sacred artifact; it could gather and amplify the effects of the Dark Moon Blade.

At this instant, the thought that crossed Cullen’s mind was actually how wonderful it would be if he possessed this sword, as the power of his Dark Moon Blade would instantly surge; if he were to spar with Judia with this blade in hand, a single strike would likely shatter all of Judia's icy defenses, sending her to sit as an equal alongside Mr. Mike.

"Oh my..."

A coquettish moan escaped from beneath the mask,

"I've been recognized, oh, how boring, how boring. And it had to be by the very person I selected myself."

The female warrior removed her mask, revealing Ophelia's face, while the features of the Ophelia already seated inside the carriage rapidly shifted, becoming somewhat resembling Peige, with more lines and rigidity appearing on her face, instantly giving her the look of someone weathered by hardships and battles.

Fanny stepped forward and inquired, "May I ask, are you Mistress Ophelia?"

"It's me, it's me." Ophelia smiled at Fanny, "Sister, don't be angry, I just wanted to play a little joke on you."

"I hope Mistress Ophelia understands that everything we do is to ensure your safety in York City. I hope such a joke will not happen again next time."

"Of course, of course."

Ophelia assured Fanny with an excellent attitude, and then she turned her head to look at Cullen. At this moment, her face and the suit of armor were highly mismatched, making her look somewhat like a muscle Barbie.

Her true appearance and image should have been identical to the previous "Ophelia"; the discrepancy was purely due to the pronounced enhancing effects of this suit of armor.

"How did you recognize me?" Ophelia asked Cullen, filled with curiosity.

Cullen replied:

"It is the mottled shade beneath the afterglow of the Dark Moon that allows me to see the true you."

Cullen felt this response was highly appropriate;

It smoothed over the current awkwardness and swept the matter under the rug.

But as soon as he finished speaking, he discovered that Ophelia's expression had changed;

The expressions of the two women sitting inside the carriage changed as well;

Even the members of the delegation in the rear who caught these words showed a shift in their expressions.

Huh, could the meaning of this sentence be wrong?

Suddenly, Cullen became aware of a problem he had inadvertently overlooked earlier:

What on earth did Pu'er know about the customs and slang of Dark Moon Island!

Wasn't everything she knew heard from that young clan master who courted her and was ultimately forgotten by her in the vast ocean?

Damn it, just to eat pickled fish, what kind of nonsense had that cat blindly educated him with?

So, was the meaning of this sentence truly a greeting between friends meeting each other?

Fanny and Peige were completely in the dark, but they could sense that Cullen seemed to have said something incredibly shocking.

Ophelia's face gradually began to flush, until finally, it truly turned into a red apple, and the longsword gripped in her hand began to trace sparks and circles upon the hard concrete ground.

"Oh my, oh my, regarding your confession, may I think about it a little longer?"

"..." Cullen.