Chapter 442: Go to the Rooftop

Chapter 442: Going to the Rooftop

"Phew..."

Karen sat up abruptly from his bed, gasping for air.

Turning his head, he saw the phantom of Dis in an elder’s divine robe beside him. It was visually distinct that the silhouette had grown exceedingly faint, almost on the very precipice of collapse.

Karen reached up to run a hand through his hair. He knew full well that if his grandfather’s phantom hadn’t blocked the "pressure" for him in his dream just now, the sheets beneath him would likely be stained crimson with blood by now.

"Thank you, Grandfather."

Under Karen’s control, Dis’s phantom vanished. This meant that for a long time to come, Karen would be unable to use the abilities of the Inmoles family’s belief system, as it required rest and replenishment.

However, regarding Karen’s personal strength, this wouldn’t cause any decline or harm. He could just consider it a vacation for himself—just no more reading books while eating lately, or rather, eating a bit slower and reading the books twice more.

"Oh, so you were writing about me."

This sentence surfaced in Karen’s mind once more. When these words echoed, Dis’s timbre had already faded, beginning to reveal a portion of the true voice, and the tone carried surprise, delight, indifference, and a piercing coldness.

Compared to the actual words, the impact of this tone was what truly made one feel oppressed and suffocated.

"Sigh, what a torment."

Karen got out of bed and walked toward the washroom.

Although to some people—especially those of the Church of Principles—they wouldn't hesitate to pay the price of their lives just to learn some secrets and truths, Karen, while deeply interested in these divine secrets, hadn't reached the point where he was willing to sacrifice his physical health to know the privacy of some gods.

He wasn't doing this actively; he was passive, or it could even be said he was forced into it.

Walking into the washroom, he faced the mirror above the sink and looked at his reflection.

A faint smile graced the corner of Karen’s mouth, his gaze darkened slightly, and a shifting expression of light and shadow surfaced on his face as he spoke:

"Oh, so you were writing about me."

"Damn it!"

Karen shook his head. Why was he mimicking this?

He turned on the faucet, scooped up some water, and splashed it repeatedly onto his face.

Whether it was because his grandfather’s phantom had grown faint or not, when Karen washed his face and stood up straight, he suddenly sensed that a certain "emotion" seemed to be brewing in his heart, on the verge of appearing.

Was the addiction about to strike?

It was like when you were lying in bed and your calf muscle was about to cramp; you could be almost certain that as long as you moved or exerted force just a bit more, the calf cramp would instantly arrive!

"No, no, no, not at this time, not at this time..."

Karen kept murmuring to himself, then quickly distracted his attention, erasing the previously faint phantom of his grandfather from his mind as much as possible.

Walking to the French windows, he picked up a cigarette from the coffee table, pulled it out, lit it, took a deep drag, and then looked at the scenery outside the window while exhaling.

"Perhaps I should learn painting from Mr. Bede? Or maybe next time Old Sam wakes up, I can have him teach me to play the flute?"

After a moment, Karen breathed a sigh of relief. He found that the addiction which had been rearing its head just now had disappeared.

Karen placed the blue seashell over his ear, reached out to tap it gently, and asked, "Hello."

"Captain, I'm here," Muri's voice came from the shell. "Everything is normal. Oh, the breakfast carts are coming up, two of them. I'm having Richard push them up."

"Alright."

At this moment, Aisley and Blanche also emerged from the inner room. They had an independent washroom inside, and by now they had completed washing up and dressing.

"Morning, Captain."

"Captain, did you sleep well?"

"Quite well."

Even though he had experienced a heartwarming family dialogue of paternal devotion and filial piety in his dream last night.

Karen led Aisley and Blanche to the elevator doors. Richard had just come up, pushing the dining carts out.

The lavish dining cart was for Salaina, while the more ordinary dining cart was prepared for Karen's side.

"Has everyone eaten?" Karen asked.

"We’ve eaten, don't worry," Richard replied.

"Mm."

Karen pushed the lavish dining cart to the door of Salaina's room, rang the doorbell twice, and after waiting for a moment, no one opened the door, but Sayns's voice came from inside:

"Enter."

Karen turned the doorknob, opened the door, and pushed the dining cart inside.

He saw Sayns curled up on the sofa in a very strange posture, like an insect licking its own wounds.

However, the rhythm within his body could be felt, as if his heartbeat could be heard from a great distance away.

Is this guy even human?

Even Richard, who had an insect inside him, didn't have vitality overflowing to this extent, otherwise Mr. Eisen would be thrilled to death.

Salaina, meanwhile, was still lying on the bed. Her face was pale, almost devoid of blood, in an even worse state than last night.

This was actually quite normal. Having been severely injured and weakened last night, she had still insisted on attending the banquet, which could almost be described as overdrawing her strength. After a night's rest, her body would exhibit an even more pronounced fatigue.

Karen reminded, "Mr. Sayns, the room door still needs to be double-locked from the inside. This door is also a formation, and it can play a role at critical moments. Of course, this was my oversight; I should have checked it when I left the room last night."

Sayns snorted coldly, "Even if an assassination comes, even if I double-lock the door, I believe the assassin will have a key."

This was another insinuation.

"I am merely fulfilling my duty to remind you. Whether to respond passively is Mr. Sayns's own choice."

"You..."

"My Lady, this is breakfast. The first meeting is originally scheduled to begin at nine o'clock in the conference hall on the 5th floor. Do you need me to help you apply for a postponement?"

"No need, the meeting will proceed as planned."

Karen added an extra word: "But I am worried that your body won't be able to bear the pressure of a lengthy meeting."

Salaina smiled faintly and said, "It's fine, the meeting won't be very long. I can rest after getting through today."

"Alright, I will be waiting for you outside the door then. In addition, do we need to prepare a special wheelchair for you?"

"No need."

"Yes, I understand." Karen stepped back two paces, glanced at Sayns, and asked again, "Do I need to arrange for someone to help you with your meal?"

"Yes, thank you." Salaina drew an anonymous black-market ticket card from beneath her pillow with her fingertips, threw it directly toward Karen with a slight flick of force.

Karen reached out to catch it. This was an anonymous black-market voucher card, widely accepted across many black-market banks.

"This is for Captain Karen’s tea money."

"Thank you for your generosity."

Karen walked toward the door.

Salaina smiled and said, "Won't Captain Karen help me with my meal?"

Karen paused in his tracks and responded, "You are a noble Child of God. It is more appropriate for me to arrange for a female team member to help you with your meal."

Captain Karen is indeed most thoughtful.

Please wait a moment.

Very well.

Karen stepped into his room and saw Ophelia, Aisley, and Blanche eating breakfast with swift efficiency.

Someone needs to assist the Goddess's Child with her meal...

I shall go. Ophelia clapped her hands clean and stood up.

You?

She specifically requested to see me, asking for my company. I might as well let her look her fill.

No, you misunderstand. What I meant was, do you actually know how to serve someone a meal?

Karen still vividly remembered the time he was injured on Dark Moon Island. Had it not been for Her Highness Ophelia’s meticulous care, his wounds would likely have healed much sooner.

Ophelia caught his meaning and smiled. Is that not perfect, then?

Fair point. Blanche, accompany Ophelia.

Yes, Captain.

Blanche possessed a gentle disposition, perfect for maintaining the balance. As for the short-tempered Aisley, she would remain behind.

Once Ophelia and Blanche had crossed over to the opposite room, Karen prepared to have his own breakfast.

Aisley helped Karen fetch a tray, remarking, Captain, the quality of breakfast is quite splendid today. Furthermore, there are cigarettes and liquor tucked beneath the dining cart.

Originally, the reduction of the meal budget and the standard-issue cigarettes and liquor was meant to bypass the approval and deduction procedures. The finer details had already been negotiated with the logistics manager’s tea-selling mistress—the expenses would be logged directly, and the profits split after the mission's conclusion.

This was an open secret among them, given that it involved a downgrade in the standard of meals and amenities the crew would enjoy during the operation.

Yet now, the physical goods had been delivered.

Karen smiled faintly. Last night's assassination attempt has likely created quite a stir, or is currently doing so. An internal investigation has already begun, so they simply dare not indulge in such underhanded dealings right now.

Ah, so that is how it is.

After completing his breakfast, Karen checked the time, walked over to the sofa, sat down, and lifted the telephone receiver to dial the mortuary directly.

The call connected, and Pu'er's voice drifted through the line:

Hello, meow.

Pu'er, it is I, your young master, Karen.

Karen twirled the telephone cord between his fingertips. He knew that following the onset of last night's assassination, this phone call of his would, without a doubt, be monitored.

Your young master, Karen?

Pu'er understood instantly, replying:

Very well, my young master Karen. What are your commands?

There is food in the refrigerator at home that cannot be left for too long; it spoils rather quickly. You should discard what needs to be discarded. Do not force yourself to eat it out of reluctance to throw it away, or you will ruin your health.

I understand, Young Master Karen. Is your work outside progressing smoothly?

Smoothly. I am fine. Well then, that is all. Take care of your health.

Yes, understood, Young Master.

Hanging up the telephone, Karen looked up at the time once more. With a little spare time remaining, he decided to take a quick shower.

As he walked past Aisley, he noticed that having finished her breakfast, she was packaging the remaining food and tucking it into her clothes.

This was a specific detail outlined in the mission plan; the meeting was highly likely to devolve into a prolonged war of attrition and endurance, a stage where carrying sufficient food was of paramount importance.

Clearly, Aisley was putting this rule into practice, just as Fanni and Peige had done before, smuggling food into the conference hall.

Karen spoke up, Aisley, there is no need to bring anything this time. This meeting will yield results very quickly.

This had been spoken directly by Salaina as she lay in bed, implying that the preliminary consultations had already hammered out the vast majority of the finer details. Perhaps only a few clauses remained—just enough to allow Her Highness the Goddess's Child a chance to go through the motions and exert her influence for minor gains.

Oh? Very well, Captain.

Aisley retrieved the food hidden within her garments, yet she still wished to secrete an insulated flask filled with ice cubes beneath her divine robes. The flask, however, was elliptical; no matter how loose the divine robes were, it looked distinctly peculiar once tucked inside.

Aisley patted the flask resting against her abdomen:

No, this will not do. It makes me look as though I am pregnant.

Hesitating for a moment, Aisley produced a gray woven bag and poured some ice cubes from the flask into it. There was no need to pack too much, just enough for the captain's water.

Securing the woven bag around her waist would make it far less conspicuous. It was fashioned from the fur of a Mombas, offering excellent insulation.

Sigh, I really should have plucked more fur from that Mombas to weave another bag. I could have given one to Blanche too. Her figure is splendid to begin with, and now this makes my waist look even thicker.

……

Having hung up the telephone, Pu'er blinked. Food spoiling quickly in the refrigerator, the meeting concluding swiftly—it appears the negotiations will go exceptionally well. Eating it causes a stomach ache, meaning a health issue... Has something happened? Stupid dog.

Kevin, who lay upon his new cushion wearing gold-rimmed spectacles while reading the *Order Weekly*, raised his head: Woof, woof, woof.

True enough. Even if something did happen yesterday, it could not possibly be in today's paper. This newspaper must have been printed long ago.

Woof.

Never mind. Just these two messages. Deliver them.

Pu'er used her padded paws to flip through the ledger on Karen's desk, drawing out two sheets of Order black paper from within.

How do you fold a black crow again? Oh, let me think.

After a brief struggle, a black crow took flight, though its form appeared rather bloated.

As it circled the study, Kevin kept his canine maw firmly shut, desperately holding back a laugh.

Can it truly fly to the church hospital and find Neo? Or should we simply call him directly? Pu'er doubted the endurance of such a rotund black crow.

Woof.

That is true. Karen resorted to metaphors, proving that his phone is highly likely being tapped. We cannot make any more outgoing calls. Besides, profiting from insider information is a matter that demands utmost discretion.

Do your best, crow. Fly forth!

……

The Moon Wheel Coupon has dropped significantly today compared to most point coupons. The intelligence I gathered suggests that something occurred at the Ankara Hotel last night, which will likely have a direct impact on the upcoming negotiations between the Church of Order and the Church of the Goddess of the Moon.

Two wheelchairs sat side by side before the ward window, occupied by Neo and Linham—the latter being Xinyali’s mentor.

Neo had at least managed to slip out for a breath of fresh air and a stroll before returning, whereas Linham had simply never left the hospital, extending his stay directly.

Your information travels fast. Neo glanced at Linham. I have yet to receive any concrete news myself.

Linham chuckled. The Church of Principles thrives on information. Moreover, quite a few factions have received word; the fluctuation of coupon values on the black market is already glaringly obvious. Of course, a cataclysmic drop like that of the Reincarnation Coupon during the last war is impossible, but a minor, short-term dip is inevitable.

What do you intend to do? Neo inquired.

Earn a bit of pocket money using my private savings. Linham rubbed his ribs. My wife has always kept a strict leash on my allowance. You know how it is—sometimes, when one encounters charming young ladies, failing to present them with flowers or cosmetics feels like a failure of responsibility toward beautiful things.

I intend to take a position as well, but I am waiting for word.

Which is precisely why I came to find you for a stroll and some fresh air this morning. I am well aware that Karen is handling the security for this mission.

Just then, a plump black crow flew over, tracing Neo’s scent, but as it neared the platform's height, it seemed to exhaust the last of its strength and began to plummet.

Neo extended his hand, and a chain of order materialized, snaring the black crow and pulling it back.

After scanning the message, Neo spoke up: "Mm, something did indeed happen last night, but the negotiations will proceed quite smoothly, and a result will likely be reached today."

Linham clapped his hands and said, "Then the Moon Wheel bonds will see a surge today."

"Yes, exactly."

Greeting the news of a successful negotiation on the heels of a prior decline would undoubtedly act as a shot of adrenaline for the bond's value; the market would once again favor the Moon Wheel bond's prospects.

"Then, let us enter the market, Xinyali," Linham said, producing his bond passbook.

"Fannie," Neo said, taking out his own card.

Having handed their savings over to a trusted subordinate—a student—to manage, Linham covertly slipped a small flask of rum from his breast pocket.

"Come, Commander Neo, let us share a toast."

"Cheers."

After they each took a swig of the liquor, Linham asked in a hushed tone, "Did you use leverage?"

Neo replied, "How could I? I have always preferred to act with caution."

...

The core negotiation team for the Church of Order comprised people from the York City Region, yet Chief Bishop Wolfulen did not occupy the central seat; instead, a minister dispatched by the Holy See and two bishops from the Wien Region held the central positions, leaving Wolfulen, as the Chief Bishop of York City, to sit on the outer flank of the trio.

Within the Church of Order, the Dinger Region served as the political center, while the Wien Region—along with its representative York City Region—acted as the economic center, which was why the York City Region shouldered so much of the negotiating workload.

Salaina sat there as the head of the Moon God Church delegation, barely needing to speak; of course, her deathly pale complexion was far more eloquent than any words.

In short, the atmosphere of the meeting was harmonious, resembling nothing more than a formal review of accounts.

One side would finish reading, and the other side would express no objection, passing it through.

There were occasional clauses where the Church of Order held brief discussions, but they soon expressed their approval as well; these were presumably the concessions.

Karen checked his watch; at this tempo, the meeting would conclude successfully by noon, allowing the two churches to issue a joint announcement.

However, a subsequent item caused Karen to freeze for a moment, and he noticed that many people seated below in the venue froze as well; this was a clause no one had expected to see, for it had already breached the conventional framework of cooperation between the two churches.

At the same time, Karen observed that on the raised negotiation table, a number of negotiators seated at the periphery also wore expressions of slight astonishment, suggesting that even they had no prior knowledge of this news.

Namely, the Moon Wheel bond would be anchored to the Order bond, with a narrow fluctuation band established; judged by this range, the Moon Wheel bond was bound to face a round of devaluation.

At twelve o'clock noon, the negotiations concluded successfully, and both parties issued a joint announcement.

At one o'clock in the afternoon,

A light drizzle began to fall from the sky,

And Neo pushed the wheelchair out onto the hospital rooftop.