Chapter 443: Declare War!

Chapter 443: Declaration of War!

The celebratory banquet commenced in the afternoon.

Evidently, even the hotel had not anticipated the negotiations to conclude so swiftly; they had not even managed to prepare the ingredients in time, leaving the banquet’s culinary offerings appearing somewhat lacking in abundance.

This also hinted from another angle that these negotiations had, in certain respects, been kept secret from a great many people.

In short, this was by no means a level of influence that a single assassination incident could sway.

What caught Karen by surprise was that although Salaina's body was clearly at a point where she could barely hold on and desperately needed rest, she still held her wine glass with her left hand while her right hand rested naturally against the table beside her, conversing with the high-ranking officials of the Order present.

Not only the "Order Weekly," but many other journalists from the church circles were also permitted entry into this banquet to begin photographing; the flavor of a political show was thick enough to condense into morning dew.

At four in the afternoon, the banquet came to an end.

Karen led his people to escort Salaina into the elevator; the moment they stepped inside, Salaina closed her eyes and spoke: "I cannot stand any longer."

Karen took a step back, and Ophelia, catching his drift, stepped forward to let Salaina lean against her shoulder.

Though her eyes remained closed, Salaina still remarked: "A martial artist’s shoulder is still a bit too stiff, little Dark Moon. You are still not womanly and gentle enough; how can you capture a man’s heart like this?"

Ophelia pretended not to hear.

The elevator arrived, and Karen and Ophelia first escorted Salaina into her room.

Ophelia placed Salaina onto the bed, while Science, standing nearby, hurriedly said: "Gently, gently."

Karen, meanwhile, took up the blanket to help cover Salaina, saying: "Your Grace, you need to rest well now."

"Oh, yes," responded the closed-eyed Salaina.

"There is one more matter I need to inform you of. My mission only lasted until the conclusion of the negotiations. I do not know how much longer you intend to tarry in York City, but in the time to follow, it may not be me who is responsible for your security."

According to the mission protocol, Karen’s squad was only responsible for Salaina’s safety from the moment she landed until the end of the conference; of course, if she were to depart immediately after the talks concluded, Karen’s squad would continue to escort her away from the shore.

But evidently, she did not seem in a hurry to leave, and her body did not appear to permit it either.

If she continued to remain in York City, the security detail would be downgraded, and another Whip of Order squad would take over.

"Oh, Captain Karen means that the subsequent security will be handed over to another squad, is that it? You are not extending this mission?"

"My apologies, I have other matters that require my attention."

"The tea money feels like a bit of a loss then."

Hearing this response, Karen also offered a polite smile.

In truth, taking those one hundred thousand points cards really felt somewhat embarrassing.

The assassin had been killed by Salaina, yet the credit was claimed by him; during the private inquiry, he had still reported the truth, and all things considered, he had only spent a single day and night on this mission.

But Karen would not utter words like returning that card to her; he knew Salaina would not care about these few points, and he knew even better that he could not bear to surrender the points he had already accepted.

"I shall remember your generosity."

"I shall remember you too, Captain Karen. Please take good care of our little Dark Moon."

The final pleasantries concluded, and Karen and the others returned to their own room.

He tapped the seashell by his ear: "Hello, Muri. Submit the mission completion report, and choose not to extend."

"Understood, Captain."

Having given the instructions, Karen spoke to the three girls before him: "Alright, we shall wait a little longer. A squad should arrive shortly to take over our mission."

Ophelia spoke up: "Can I return now as well?"

"No dinner party?" Karen asked. "According to our squad’s tradition, we are having a dinner party tonight."

Ophelia shook her head and said: "I won’t be going. I must return to my own region; there is still work to be done there."

Since she was eager to leave, Karen did not press her to stay.

"I look forward to our next meeting." Karen opened his arms.

Ophelia took a step forward and offered Karen a courteous embrace.

Karen whispered into her ear: "Watch your safety when you arrive there as well. They will keep their eyes on you if they cannot find the true target."

"The one who needs to watch out for safety is you. I feel the problem with her body is severe; she is very urgent."

"Do not worry about my affairs. Take care."

"You take care as well. During my next vacation, I might return to York City again. By then, Eunice should have returned to normal. But rest assured, before I return to the Allen Manor next time, I shall notify you in advance so as not to bring you shock and embarrassment."

"When you come next time, Eunice should not be at the Allen Manor."

"Where would she be then? By your side? Perhaps you could spend more time getting to know her, rather than merely intending to arrange for her to be your vase."

"Very well, I accept your criticism."

Aisli and Blanche looked at the two embracing and conversing, shrugging at one another.

Ophelia returned to her own room, and Karen sat down on the sofa, gazing out the French windows, lost in thought.

Half an hour later, the telephone rang, and Karen also received a reply from Muri by his ear.

Aisli, having answered the call, reported: "Captain, the new squad will arrive here in half an hour to relieve us of our duties."

Missions of different tiers were contested by squads of corresponding tiers; for instance, the security mission during these negotiations was certainly competed for by the finest squads in this region.

The next tier of missions also had squads competing for them; after all, squads capable of feasting on large portions of meat were a minority, while most still subsisted on the purines in the soup.

"Yes, I have received Muri's report. Gather your things."

"Where are we having our dinner party tonight?" Aisli asked, nudging Blanche with her elbow.

Blanche cooperated: "Let's keep it simple. I think eating at home would be quite nice."

Karen’s culinary skills were universally acknowledged by everyone in the squad.

Yet Karen was in no mood to cook; the dinner party he had mentioned to Ophelia earlier was merely a conventional courtesy prompted by her announcement of departure.

Because he now had a far more thorny issue to face...

"Muri and the others have been on alert in the shadows without much rest. Let us do this: the dinner party shall be moved to tomorrow evening, and I shall cook personally."

"Splendid, Captain."

"Then we shall go gather our things first."

Karen silently picked up the telephone receiver, flipped through the directory beside it, and found the number for the Church Hospital... After a moment’s hesitation, he dialed his home number instead.

"Hello, meow."

"It is I, Karen."

"Oh, so it is my esteemed Young Master Karen."

"My work is finished. I shall return tonight."

"Understood, I see."

"Is the refrigerator cleared?"

"Of course!"

"Very well."

Hanging up the telephone,

Kallen propped his forehead with his hand:

"What should I do..."

...

The mission handover was swift, and once the rewards were issued, Alfred would represent Kallen at the academic affairs building to collect them.

By this time, Alfred was driving, delivering Kallen to the church hospital.

"Whew..."

Sitting in the passenger seat, Kallen let out a long sigh, silently lighting a cigarette.

He had smoked twice today; the first time was to distract himself from a burgeoning "hunger addiction," while this time, Kallen simply did not know how to face what was coming.

For he and Neo understood each other far too well!

At times, they could completely bypass communication, without even clashing glances, to guess exactly what had transpired with the other.

"Young master?" Alfred asked, somewhat concerned about Kallen’s state of mind.

"I am fine, wait for me here."

Kallen stepped out of the car, intending to buy some fruit, only to find that the original fruit shop had not yet reopened since Muri had trashed it that day.

Entering the inpatient building and walking up the stairs, Kallen suddenly wondered why the hospital steps were designed so high—could patients find this convenient?

Yet in the end, he climbed the stairs regardless.

Arriving before the ward, he pushed the door open and entered.

Inside Neo’s ward, only Linham sat in a wheelchair, puffing on a cigarette.

The old man did not dare smoke in his own room, so for convenience, he blew smoke here with Neo.

Seeing Kallen arrive, Linham smiled and coughed: "You've come, my private savings are gone."

"I am sorry." Kallen understood what had happened the moment he heard this.

"It is fine, I am used to it; the more professional one is in this field, the easier it is to lose money."

"Where is my squadron leader?"

"Oh, him? He hasn't come down yet."

"Come down?"

Linham pointed toward the window: "Down from there, I haven't seen him drop past yet."

"The squadron leader, he..."

"I merely lost all my private savings; well, he not only lost everything, but ran into debt as well."

"Is the squadron leader on the rooftop?"

"Yes."

"All right, thank you."

"You are welcome."

Kallen walked up the stairs to the highest floor, pushed open the somewhat rusted iron door, and saw Neo sitting in a wheelchair right at the edge of the rooftop; even without anyone pushing, a stronger gust of wind might have blown him over.

"Squadron leader."

Neo turned his head, casting a glance at Kallen.

"About this matter..." Kallen explained as he walked forward; he was not actually worried that Neo would despair and jump, first because the leader was not that fragile, and second... his bloodthirsty demon lineage made it practically impossible for him to fall to his death.

Neo propped his elbow on the armrest of the wheelchair, supporting the side of his face, allowing himself to recline slightly in the chair.

Kallen walked to his side, noting that Neo’s expression was calm.

"The squadron leader is indeed more resilient than I imagined."

Neo nodded and said, "When you lose too much, and the debt is too vast, your heart actually stops panicking."

"How much did you lose?"

"You should ask how much I owe."

Kallen pulled out the bearer black-market bank card Salaina had given him this morning, handing it to Neo: "Leader, there are 100,000 Order coupons here, why don't you take it to repay some debt first?"

Neo glanced at the card in Kallen’s hand,

and replied:

"Only enough to cover the interest."

Kallen: "..."

"The comforting thing is, I probably wasn't the only one going up to the rooftop this time."

"Yes, I even noticed that some bishops at the negotiation table had expressions of surprise on their faces."

"The Moon Wheel coupon is anchored to the Order coupon, how could they pull off such a move?"

Kallen said: "The value of the Moon Wheel coupon will slide a bit, and then it will become more stable."

This was an objective law; because the Order coupon was backed by the status of the Church of Order, once the two orthodox churches anchored them, the value of the coupon would be more solid—though of course, the interests of the Church of Order would be greater.

However, saying this now was meaningless; if Neo had only traded normally, he would have merely lost some points coupons, and if the Order coupon appreciated in the future, his lost portion could return, but the problem was, he had used leverage.

"I am not asking about the economic part." Neo crossed his hands before him. "Are there any other details you can tell me?"

"The detail is that after Salaina was assassinated, her injuries were severe and her body was very weak, yet she still insisted on completing all public events; this is somewhat contrary to common sense, as if she deliberately wanted to pass certain messages to the outside world through this method."

"Oh, is that so." Neo nodded thoughtfully. "I cannot stay in York City anytime soon; I need to go out to dodge the debt, or find a way to get some points coupons back from the outside to fill the hole. I already had Fannie mortgage my modified VIP car, and I must redeem it."

Kallen knew that the modified VIP car was Neo's pride and joy; it could even be driven directly into the Knights' garrison without being inspected.

"Leader, things shouldn't have reached such a severe point, right?"

"Perhaps. By the way, do you know a man named Bernie?"

"The minister of the logistics department of the Whip of Order in our district? I have interacted with his younger sister, who holds a position at the research institute."

"Yes, that's him, he mentioned you."

"You are in contact with him?"

"Yes, he said he wants to run for the position of Whip-bearer of this district. I always thought he was dreaming; you know, though he manages the logistics department of the Whip of Order in this district, his lucrative income is far lower than mine... after all, not much grease can be squeezed out of document copying fees and ink."

"Then why did you bring him up?"

"He will be coming over in a while." Neo took a black crow from his cloak. "He sent me a message, and I am waiting for him here. In fact, I arrived here at one o'clock, spent half an hour calming my emotions, and for the rest of this long time, I have been waiting for him; he is late, likely delayed by something."

"You rarely spend so much time waiting for someone who seems to be of little use."

"Do you know, he approached me a week ago, wanting me to become one of his people."

"How did you respond?"

"I naturally agreed; anyway, I—well, including you—already belong to his people. Although practically everyone in the Whip of Order in this district is managed by the district administration, nominally, we are all his subordinates."

"And then?"

"He brought something up with me, saying he intends to form an observation mission from our regional Order’s Whip to visit other orthodox churches for study and inspection."

"Does that count as a vacation on the public dime?"

"Mm, yes."

"And you agreed?"

"I didn't, because they aren't covering travel expenses; they only issue you an official letter. You even have to pay for the teleportation array vouchers out of your own pocket. I'd have to have water on the brain to agree to that kind of observation."

"And now?"

"Mm, I've realized my brain really is flooded."

Neo twitched his lips and said with a faint smile, "Do you know which deity's church he specified for the inspection?"

"The Church of the Moon God?"

"A guess?"

"Because it feels like only a guess involving the Moon God offers any sort of connection right now."

"Yes, the Church of the Moon God. The quota for the inspection team is twelve people, the scope of the inspection is unlimited, and the host church will handle the coordination."

Karen looked at the distant setting sun, suddenly possessed by a premonition that something momentous was about to unfold.

"Karen, you and I are currently like fish in a small stream; only when the fishing net drops do we feel anything. Until then, we can only see the soles of the boots of the people walking along the bank."

"I have indeed had similar sentiments lately."

"As for this assassination at the Ankara Hotel, I suspect we'll probably never clarify exactly who was behind it."

"Yes, I think so too."

Just then, a plume of black mist drifted from afar, settling on the rooftop terrace to reveal the figure of a middle-aged man.

His complexion was somewhat fair and soft, and while he wasn't particularly stout, he was by no means thin; though only middle-aged, he was already balding.

"Neo."

"Lord Bernie." Neo turned his wheelchair and bowed his head toward him.

Karen also saluted him, "Lord Bernie."

"Karen?" Bernie smiled. "This is our first time meeting."

"Yes, my Lord."

"The gift you sent, I liked it very much."

A gift?

When did I ever send you a gift?

Alfred certainly handled the holiday gifts between friends and relatives at home, but Alfred wasn't so presumptuous as to take it upon himself to open up a new recipient for him.

"Very interesting, truly. Do you know, for the past six months, only you, Neo, have been constantly sending me gifts during the holidays."

Neo smiled and said, "You are too polite, my Lord, it's just some worthless trifles."

"I know that, of course—everyday items that can be bought with Reals."

Neo licked his lips.

"Later, after you became a captain, Karen—well, it hasn't been that long, I suppose—during the past two holidays, you sent me gifts as well. Since I took office here, the two of you are the only subordinates who have given me gifts."

Karen understood; his share had been sent by Neo on his behalf.

Bernie walked to the edge of the terrace, gazing at the scenery below, and continued, "For a long time, I used to doubt whether I was actually a mid-level leader of the Order’s Whip. Only from the two of you have I found a bit of that feeling of being a leader."

With that, Bernie rested his hand on Neo's shoulder. "I know you wasted many years in Sampo City. In truth, so did I. Right now, our opportunity is coming. Together, we can take back all the time we lost.

I am late because I went to send over that observation mission roster this morning, and then I kept pressing the other side to reply quickly. This afternoon, after the joint announcement of both sides was issued, the reply came as well. A rare efficiency; the other side agreed.

You, Neo, will represent the York City Regional Order’s Whip department to form a twelve-man observation mission to travel to the Church of the Moon God for inspection and exchange.

Of course, you can refuse right now, and I can replace you. Tell me now, will you refuse?"

Neo immediately replied, "Of course not. Whipping—for the sake of Order!"

Bernie nodded and said, "Time is pressing. You had best hurry; the sooner you go, the better."

Having finished speaking, Bernie's form dissolved into black mist and departed just like that.

Karen looked down at Neo and asked, "You've negotiated everything?"

Neo answered, "No, but intuition tells me I shouldn't refuse."

"I don't like riddles."

"Coincidentally, neither do I."

"Let me wheel you down. Mr. Linham has been worrying that you might jump off the building."

"He's projecting himself onto me. I don't believe he didn't steal his wife's money to speculate on vouchers."

Karen pushed Neo's wheelchair down from the rooftop terrace. Upon reaching the nurse's station, they found the nurses, doctors, and patients all seemingly discussing a major event that had just occurred.

"Excuse me, what happened?" Karen asked a nurse.

"A news flash just came over the broadcast. The Church of the Moon God has declared war on the Church of Samsara!"

———

Requesting monthly tickets!