Chapter 503: Revenge From the Director!

Chapter 503: Revenge from the Director!

After Vick delivered the slap, Vicolai glared at him with ferocious eyes before shifting his venomous gaze to Cullen, his mouth continuing to mumble curses.

Cullen had never been fond of deciphering the people around him with a lens of deliberate foolishness. Not only was it disrespectful to others, but it was also a reckless disregard for his own safety.

Yet, when it came to Bishop Dolph and Inquisitor Vicolai, this grandfather-grandson duo, Cullen felt he could make an exception.

The sheer stupidity of these two was like rice pressed down repeatedly in a bowl until it was packed tight, utterly beyond any further compression.

Cullen said to Vick, "Do not mistreat the subject of the investigation. The first thing we do upon entering the headquarters building is to compile, inspect, and publicly release a report on his physical condition. After that, no additional obvious injuries are permitted."

Vick understood immediately. No extra injuries permitted *before* entering the headquarters building meant that right now was the last chance to thrash him!

Besides, the man was already heavily injured; adding a little more would be like tossing a few pieces of fruit onto a cake—perfectly normal and entirely inconspicuous.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Keep glaring then! Go on, glare! Keep glaring!

Honestly, you are the first person I've met in my entire life who is so stupid I just can't help but hit him.

And you call yourself an Inquisitor?

You actually outrank me?"

Vick put his whole weight into every single swing. After this succession of blows, Vicolai finally closed his eyes, his nose beginning to snivel as blood mingled with mucus ran down his face.

"Ugh, disgusting."

Vick pulled some tissues from the front, rolled them into two oversized cylinders, and stuffed them directly into Vicolai's nostrils, thoughtfully stanching the bleeding for him.

Cullen, meanwhile, turned to Richard and asked, "How is his actual strength?"

Richard pondered for a moment, seemingly organizing his words, before replying:

"Counting from the time I joined the Bloodhound Squad, among all the opponents I've encountered, he is the first one who actually made me feel like we were evenly matched."

That pathetic, huh...

"Did you factor in your self-healing ability?" Cullen asked.

"No."

Then he was even more pathetic...

So, the whole reason Neo had "amplified" Richard's injuries was because he worried that when Richard was dragged into the office for "mediation" the next day, the wounds would have healed too quickly.

"However, the Director didn't do it to me," Richard explained.

"Oh?"

"There wasn't enough time. The Director arrived in a great hurry and only briefed me on some important matters. What he meant was for me to make the injuries look more severe myself."

"You inflicted those wounds on yourself?"

"Yeah." Richard tugged open his collar. "How about it? Don't these cuts look incredibly natural? Getting hurt all the time helps you accumulate a lot of experience with injuries, hehe."

Cullen sighed and reached out to pat Richard on the head. There was no helping it; every other part of the boy was injured, leaving only his head unscathed.

"You've worked hard this time."

"There's no need for that between us. Cullen, even if you told me to walk into a pit of fire tomorrow, I would walk straight into it, because I know you wouldn't harm me.

Besides, I'm really glad. You have no idea how hard it is for me to find an opportunity to contribute to the team. I cherish opportunities like this. If there are similar tasks in the future, just give them to me. Let me go first, and the rest of you can follow behind."

"You have always been contributing to the team."

Because you, Richard, brought your own funding to the group.

Believing Cullen was merely offering pleasantries, Richard smiled back responsively.

Cullen glanced out the car window, then looked at Vicolai, whose shoulders were twitching, and said:

"Next, it all depends on whether things go smoothly on Neo's end."

...

Splash...

A basin of ice water was dashed onto the woman's face. Rousing from her unconsciousness, she found herself locked inside an iron cage. Standing before her was a man dressed in a wine-red suit, with two women standing behind him.

The moment the woman regained clarity, she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Who are you? What do you want!!!"

"Is it her?"

Alfred intentionally asked a superfluous question to open the conversation.

Fanny replied, "It is indeed her. When the Director made contact with her yesterday, he left a bit of scent-tracking powder on her. She seems to be someone the Director felt held a rather special status in that establishment.

Following the Director's instructions, Peg and I knocked her out during the latter half of the night on her way home from work and brought her back."

Yesterday, in the VIP box beneath the cinema, this was the very woman who had presented the "menu" to Cullen and Neo.

"Then how could you put her in an iron cage?" Alfred asked, thoroughly perplexed. "This is far too unseemly."

"Because we couldn't find a suitable container on short notice," Fanny said. "My apologies."

The woman immediately grabbed the bars of the cage and pleaded with Alfred, "Why did you kidnap me? Please let me go. I can pretend this never happened, really. As long as you let me go now, I won't breathe a word of this to anyone."

"We can let you go, ma'am, but before that, we need to obtain some useful information from you. For instance, who is the boss behind that establishment of yours?

Of course, you might not know the true mastermind, but I want to know the identity of the boss you do know, and... the exact location of your food preparation area, and whether there is a warehouse."

"You are insane! What are you trying to do!" The woman looked incredulous. "Do you have any idea who stands behind our establishment?"

"I think we can skip this part of the process. You are here now, caged, and in an absolute position of weakness. Therefore, I hope that with a clear understanding of your current predicament, you can help us become a bit more efficient."

Yet the woman persisted, "I advise you to release me right now. I can guarantee that I won't hold you accountable."

Alfred shook his head with some resignation and asked, "Has her background investigation been completed?"

Peg answered, "We know the exact location of her home. Her family is quite large—a family within the religious belief system, but so weak they are barely worth mentioning."

Alfred looked down at the watch on his wrist and said, "Tell you what, you have another half hour to think it over, because in half an hour, we will launch a raid on the establishment you belong to.

By then, we should capture some people who possess similar informational value to yours, which means your importance will diminish. After all, we only need one copy of the same intelligence; duplicates are pointless. And you will also lose your chance to become a tainted witness.

According to the Regulations of Order, both you and your small family will be implicated because of this matter. And the most common disciplinary measure our Church of Order chooses for such things is to bind you, the criminal, to your family.

Don't bother saying your family didn't know what you were doing, because they have undoubtedly enjoyed the profits brought in by your employment at that place.

Oh, but I can be merciful. The judicial process is rather slow, and waiting would make you quite anxious—for instance, you might fantasize about whether someone will come forward during the trial to protect you or bail you out...

Though I don't believe you possess that kind of value, and you know it very well yourself; still, humans can always keep living with hope until the very last moment.

So, I have decided that after we launch the raid, I will send people to search your family home for evidence, and your little family will certainly resist the law with violence, attacking our officers.

For example, a wound will appear on this lady's arm, and another wound will appear on this lady's thigh.

Therefore, Peg, Fanny, do not hold back when the time comes. Leave none of them alive, because they have already attacked you."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"However, when you kill them, pick the oldest and the youngest ones. Do your best to preserve their corpses fully intact. They can be 'awakened' later so that they can see this lady of ours one last time and have a chat.

You see, look how thoughtful I am. I've helped you skip the painful period of anxiety and solved your longing for them as well."

The woman gritted her teeth, staring fixedly at Alfred.

It was a common enough threat, but coming from Alfred's mouth, the same words seemed to possess a strange magic, easily manipulating emotions and drawing people into the emotional vortex he had spun.

Furthermore, one should never assume that those accustomed to witnessing life-and-death torture view death with indifference; because they are the perpetrators, they never project themselves into the wretched plight of the victims.

Even a heel could figure out that it was impossible to believe such a group of people would ever produce someone possessing the unyielding character of choosing death over surrender.

The woman asked, "If I cooperate with you, can you guarantee that I will live?"

"No," Alfred replied, shaking his head. "There is more than an eighty percent chance you will still die, but your family can be spared from being deeply implicated. This is the promise I make with the utmost sincerity."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

...

After listening to the woman's report, Alfred led Fannie and Peg out of the room and into the one next door.

"The battle plan can be slightly refined, as we now know the locations of the food preparation area and the warehouse, as well as the vault holding the ledgers and high-level member profiles. These are the primary objectives of our assault this time.

Miss Fannie, you should have no problem, right?"

"Once the operation begins, I will guide the way."

"Mm, good."

Alfred picked up the receiver and said to them, "Then head over to the main hall first and assemble with everyone."

"Alright, thank you for your hard work, Mr. Alfred."

"We are companions."

Fannie and Peg arrived in the main hall, where dozens of people were waiting. Ventura, Bart, Ashley, Blanche, Filomena, and Mars were there; Winde was there with the remnants of the old Hound Squad; Gendi's team was there as well, along with three Whiplash of Order squads invited by Neo to participate in rounding up the "Remnants of Light."

The telephone rang, and Ventura stepped forward, setting the receiver aside.

Alfred began to speak, and on the other end, the voice from the receiver grew amplified, emerging as the voice of "Neo."

"In the upcoming operation, I have only one requirement for all of you. Remember, we are not police officers, so during the assault, any obstruction or suspected resistance encountered will be regarded as targets to be killed on sight. I do not want your hesitation to cause higher casualties among our own people in this operation.

Of course, if conditions permit, you may use your own judgment to leave a few survivors you deem valuable. The criteria will be set by yourselves. In short, protect yourselves.

We are going there to feast on meat!

Now,

I declare,

The operation begins!"

After delivering the operational notice, Alfred hung up the phone.

"Imitating Neo's voice really is quite a challenge."

Neo was not present right now, so Alfred had no choice but to play both roles himself. Fortunately, he had successfully completed his task.

Walking to the window and watching the various squads below advancing toward the cinema at the main gate, Alfred silently lit a cigarette for himself. Exhaling a puff of smoke, he could not help but laugh:

"Heh, Director Neo is truly amusing, actually wanting to invite me to be his secretary."

Shaking off the ash,

"What would I gain by following you? You don't even write diaries."

...

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to agree so quickly."

Neo said while driving, speaking to Mr. Eisen who sat in the passenger seat next to him.

Mr. Eisen replied, "It seems you and Karen really have a very good relationship; he tells you everything."

"Reconnecting with one's own maternal uncle, isn't that a joyful occasion? What is there that can't be said? But you, as an uncle, really sacrificed a lot this time."

"I am Karen's uncle, I am a member of Karen's team, and I am also your subordinate. By all accounts of reason and affection, I should do my utmost to cooperate with the work of the office."

"Speaking like that sounds far too distant."

"I think so too. Perhaps I can put on the mask of 'Memphis' now. I am more accustomed to communicating with you all in the identity of 'Memphis.'"

"Forget it, forget it, we are almost there anyway, so don't bother. By the way, aren't you worried about your son's matter?"

"Worrying is pointless. He is grown now, so he has his own right to choose. Besides, Karen should already be at the Academic Affairs Building by now."

"Do you have no confidence in your own father?"

"Father is a qualified father, a qualified grandfather, and even more so a qualified Sacred Priest of Order."

Neo shrugged, and after the car made a turn, it pulled up in front of a stadium.

Pulling up his sacred robe's hood, Neo slightly obscured his face: "We can begin."

"Alright."

Mr. Eisen got out of the car, and Neo followed behind him.

They did not head to the stadium's main entrance, but walked directly toward the stadium's underground passage. There were quite a few storefronts here, but the vast majority of them were closed and out of business. As they walked toward a central alleyway, several people wearing the clothes of waiters from a nearby restaurant appeared to block their path. Seeing that both Eisen and Neo wore sacred robes, one of the waiters first bowed to them and then spoke:

"Identification, and do you have an appointment?"

"Here is the identification. The appointment was made last night; a portion of the prison's defensive array needs to be modified and upgraded."

Mr. Eisen handed over his identification. After checking the document, the other party immediately bowed to Mr. Eisen again:

"My greetings, Lord adjudicator."

The several waiters behind him all followed suit and bowed together.

In truth, Mr. Eisen had long since been processed for suspension, but that was internal to his department; being suspended meant not participating in work, but the outside world did not know, and his identification and status were genuine.

The appointment was also arranged by Mr. Eisen using his home telephone on behalf of his father, requesting the department's liaison personnel to make the arrangements, making the procedure entirely correct.

"The appointment matches. Please enter, sir."

Mr. Eisen walked inward. Before he had gone very far, the scene in front of him shifted, turning into a grim and heavily guarded prison.

In theory, the Whiplash of Order should have a prison belonging to itself, but the current reality in the York City Region—or in the vast majority of regions—was that the prison of the Whiplash of Order bore its own title yet basically overlapped with the prison of the Regional Law Enforcement Department, making it equivalent to two units sharing the same prison.

Neo said in a low voice, "I think rebuilding an independent prison is a very necessary thing."

Mr. Eisen said, "The construction cost is not high, but the cost of array deployment is extremely expensive."

"Then we will have to rely on you. Just make a small prison that is sufficient for use first," Neo immediately laid the groundwork.

Mr. Eisen did not agree, but he did not refuse either.

The core area of the prison's defensive array was often also the core area of the office zone, so Neo followed Mr. Eisen and arrived almost without hindrance at the entrance of the office bearing the plaque of the Whiplash of Order's Prison Warden.

However, the door was locked from the inside, displaying a sign that read "Do Not Disturb."

In this kind of place, a door locked from the inside was enhanced with its own defensive array.

Mr. Eisen stepped forward, an array rune appearing in his palm, and very quickly, the door locked from the inside opened on its own.

The moment the door was pushed open, Neo saw Diano, the Prison Warden on the Whiplash of Order's side, disheveled and lying on the same office desk with a woman wearing a prison uniform, one on top of the other.

"Who let you in!"

Neo closed the door behind him with a backhand motion, locking it once more, before stepping forward, his frame accelerating into a blur as he slammed the naked warden straight into the floor.

"You dare violently resist authority?"

Neo drew a pre-prepared small dagger and plunged it directly into the warden's left arm.

"Pfft!"

"You still dare to violently resist authority?"

Neo pulled out another dagger and drove it into the warden's right arm.

"Oh, still trying to assault me?"

Neo produced yet another dagger, burying it into the warden's chest while steering clear of any vital organs.

"Hmm? Still bent on resisting?"

As if possessed of an endless supply, Neo retrieved another dagger and aimed it straight at the warden's face.

"Heh."

Neo froze his movements, chuckling as he yanked off his hat to reveal his face.

"Neo! You're insane!"

Evidently, the warden recognized him.

Neo produced an investigation warrant, waving it briefly before the warden's eyes: "The disciplinary inspection committee office of the Order's Whip for the York City district currently suspects you of serious violations of regulations and discipline, and you are hereby summoned to cooperate with the investigation."

Having finished, Neo deliberately turned his head toward Mr. Eisen, who stood nearby, and said:

"Honestly, I loathe spouting this kind of nonsense, but for some reason, Karen seems quite fond of this sort of sentimentality nowadays."

Mr. Eisen remained silent, though he still reached out his hand, binding the woman in the prisoner's uniform who was trying to open the door and flee.

Neo looked back down, patting the warden's cheek with his hand:

"My dear Warden, we're old friends after all, so I'll give you two paths to choose from now:

First, you get stabbed to death right here by me, under the charge of resisting authority;

Second, hand over the real registry of inmate entries and exits to me. You know the drill—I don't want the superficial one used to handle inspections; I want the actual, functional one kept in the dark. You can't fool me, right?

Let's add a little bonus: the Hound's patience is limited, and he strongly leans toward the first option."

"I'll give it to you, I'll give it to you!"

Perhaps knowing Neo's character all too well, the warden acquiesced quite readily.

"Very good."

Neo nodded with satisfaction.

Mr. Eisen asked curiously: "You are highly familiar with this?"

Neo replied as a matter of course: "Naturally. Many members of my Hound squad were selected right out of prison. In order to get them excellent evaluations for sentence reductions so they could get out earlier, I showered our dear Warden here with no shortage of gifts."

"So those three stabs just now..."

"Every time I offered a gift, my heart ached so much that I swore in the depths of my soul to plant a few blades into this vampire the moment an opportunity arose!"

Promptly, Neo turned back to ask Mr. Eisen:

"He was violently resisting authority just now, you saw it, right?"

Mr. Eisen frowned,

shook his head,

and replied:

"Yes."

— — —

Apologies, insomnia has left me in a poor state, so this chapter is late and counts as yesterday's; there will be two more chapters totaling ten thousand words before ten o'clock tomorrow.