Chapter 593: Revenge!

Chapter 593: Retribution!

Pushing open the door, they stepped inside.

Then, both Marlene and Steven froze.

What their feet pressed against was an island in the center of a lake, lush with green grass and brimming with wild flowers; birds soared in the sky above, and fish leaped in the rippling waters.

An office desk and chair were set upon the grass ahead, with a few butterflies resting upon the desk's surface.

The Whipper sat upon a large boulder by the edge of the island, a cigar held in his right hand, a fishing rod in his left, the gentle breeze causing his slightly loose divine robes to sway softly.

Marlene and Steven exchanged a look, each seeing a flash of dread in the other's eyes.

After a brief pause, the two of them began to walk, one after the other, stepping up behind the Whipper.

Silence,

Silence,

Silence...

The wind continued to blow, delightfully refreshing and crisp, yet Marlene and Steven stood like students punished with detention, one staring down at the grass beneath his feet, the other watching the light shimmering on the lake ahead, every passing second an absolute torment.

Finally, the silence was broken.

"Ah, it has been a long time since I have been this relaxed," Freden said with a smile. "I still remember when we were young, life was actually quite light, without so many burdens, without so many responsibilities, and most importantly, without so many annoyances."

In the past, at such a moment, either Marlene or Steven would have taken up the thread of conversation to expand upon it, allowing the Whipper to speak his mind fully, concluding the exchange with laughter.

But this time, both Marlene and Steven remained silent.

Then, very quickly, each of them wondered why the other did not speak up.

Out of the corners of their eyes, they glanced at each other with a hint of reproach, but the window to join the conversation had already passed; to speak now would seem forced and betray a guilty conscience.

Freden seemed not to notice any difference, silently blowing a ring of smoke, lowering his gaze to the cigar in his hand before continuing:

"Sometimes, I too find it perplexing why I must live such a tiring existence. I have clearly reached this position, yet I must still maintain constant caution and prudence before the High Priest.

Without exaggeration, it feels as though the longer I live, the more humble and diminished I become.

By the way, do the two of you share the same feeling?"

Hearing these words, Marlene and Steven both fell to their knees.

If their first failure to speak was due to the shock and lack of preparation for the sudden transformation of the office's environment, then their failure to speak this time was born of pure terror.

For within the Whipper's words, there was a distinct note of resentment toward the High Priest.

As subordinates, even if the Whipper were genuinely venting from the bottom of his heart at this moment, if you chimed in, once his mood stabilized a short while later, he would feel that you had no right to utter such things.

"Steven, you have followed me for a long time, haven't you?"

"Yes, Whipper, your subordinate has followed you since the days when you were still a regional director."

"Mm, it has been that long," Freden pursed his lips. "In truth, the time I have spent following the High Priest is even longer than the time you have spent following me."

Marlene, recovering her wits, took up the conversation: "The friendship and bond between you and the High Priest is destined to become an eternal, beautiful legend whispered within our Church of Order."

Why was there always a rumor within the Church that High Priest Norton might possess the identity of a "Son of God"?

It was because the path the High Priest took was different from those of the actual Sons of God; he rose from the grassroots level, step by step, progressing steadily and smoothly, but without relying on the protection of high officials or any particular faction. In fact, during the High Priest's ascension, the accidents and difficulties he encountered were by no means few, yet all were resolved by his hand. No matter the system or the department, he performed excellently.

These credentials were all open to scrutiny.

As for those Sons of God, like Mavallo, they clearly did not walk this path, resembling instead young phoenixes raised in golden nests, waiting quietly to mature before being naturally assigned a position.

Furthermore, throughout the High Priest's rise, wherever he went to a new department or a new locale, the current Whipper would soon follow, either transferring alongside him or arriving shortly after the High Priest assumed office, adjusting his position through a lateral transfer or, at times, even accepting a demotion to follow him.

Thus, to strictly call the Whipper and the High Priest close partners and comrades-in-arms all this time might be a bit of an understatement; as follower and leader, their bond was indeed remarkably tight.

"It was still better in the old days, in those small places and minor departments. One could act for the sheer satisfaction of it. For things that could not be done openly, the worst we had to do was strip off our divine robes and do them in the dark.

The High Priest would sit on the stone steps of someone's front door playing the harmonica, while I, along with those few others, would break straight into the manor.

By the time we finished killing everyone and came out, the High Priest would even complain that we were too slow, grumbling that in order to wait for us to emerge so he could clean up the aftermath, he had been forced to loop the middle section of the tune three entire times, until his lips were completely dry."

Freden set down the fishing rod with his left hand, brushed back his hair, leaned his body slightly back, and continued:

"How comfortable it was back then. Repercussions, relationships, factions, balancing acts—all of it seemed so distant from us. At any rate, I once naively believed that I would never have to consider such matters.

So, I think he is being quite unfair. When he first pulled us into his circle, he said that when everyone gathers to work together, what we seek is a sense of carefree freedom. Yes, and we did indeed live a carefree life for a quite long time.

Only later did I realize that he truly is a man who breaks his word. The higher one goes, the more concerns there are to weigh. When he could no longer carry all the concerns by himself, we had to bear them along with him.

Originally, matters requiring a brain could be handled by him alone.

The rest of us, those who should sharpen blades sharpened blades, those who should drink drank, and those who fancied women would immerse themselves in a crowd of women the moment they off-duty.

Now it will not do. Regardless of whether one actually possesses the intellect, one must put it to work. It was clearly most comfortable to be managed by someone else, especially since we all respected the man managing us; yet afterward, it just so happened that we too were required to manage others.

When there were fewer people, it was easy enough to lead them, but as the crowd grew larger and the departments multiplied, until one mysteriously found oneself the head of an entire system, only then did one discover how there could be so many wretched troubles from morning till night.

What do you two think?"

Marlene spoke up: "To be able to work for you is the greatest honor of my life!"

Steven spoke up: "My greatest pride is to offer all my loyalty to you without reservation!"

Freden tilted his head back, a faint sound escaping his lips, sounding like a laugh, yet also like disdain. After a long while, he lamented:

"The exact same words, I have spoken to the High Priest several times."

The hands with which Marlene and Steven supported themselves against the ground tensed slightly; they were deeply worried that the Whipper's next words would be: "but they were all lies."

However, Freden continued:

"I have offered my loyalty to him, whether in the past or in the present. Because very early on, I asked him a question. I asked him, if we act in this manner, will it violate the rules of the Church?

His answer satisfied me, and so I decided to follow him for the rest of my life."

Freden turned his body, looking at the two of them still kneeling on the ground, and asked:

"Can the matters of the York City region be settled?"

Steven and Marlene spoke in unison: "Please rest assured, sir!"

"Good, as quickly as possible then." Freden waved his hand. "Come see me again after you have settled the matter."

"Yes, Whipper."

"Yes, Whipper."

Marlene and Steven both stood up and walked out of the office. The moment the door closed, both of them let out a long sigh of relief. Even though the divine robes they wore possessed a self-cleansing function, the backs of their shirts had already been drenched in sweat several times over.

Steven asked, "Why do I feel that the Whipper already knows?"

Marlene replied, "In the past, it was merely that the Whipper would not cast his gaze upon this place."

"Yes, yes indeed." Steven nodded. "Then the Whipper is giving us a chance?"

"It should be so. We must resolve the matter swiftly, quickly."

"Mm, quickly."

...

The island in the center of the lake inside the office.

Verdon twirled the cigar between his fingers, seeming to mutter to himself: "You think I am just waxing sentimental over nothing? Not at all, I have no such leisure; I merely recalled some events of the past, and keeping them inside would be suffocating.

Do you know why I wanted to learn to smoke this specific cigar like the High Priest? Do you know why I wanted to read the books the High Priest once read?

Do you remember what I just said about the High Priest playing the harmonica in the past?

The last time he played the harmonica was when one of us became too ambitious, thinking that after becoming a deputy in a system, he could break away from the then-suppressed High Priest to side with other factions for further advancement.

And then, well, he died.

I remember distinctly that at his funeral, the High Priest sat beside the coffin, playing the harmonica for him.

Since then, I have never seen the High Priest play the harmonica again.

Therefore, I hope that when the High Priest smokes his last cigar, I can be beside him to help him light it or smoke along with him;

When the High Priest reads his last novel, I can be beside him to discuss the story and the characters, or simply read it along with him;

Because that is surely better than lying in the coffin behind him, is it not?"

Verdon slowly stood up, and the surrounding breeze, following his movement, was gradually growing stronger.

"A long time ago, I asked the High Priest if doing this would violate the rules of the Church.

The High Priest answered me: It will not.

I asked: Why is that?

He answered: Because the rules of the Holy Church were originally set by him.

Hehehe, hahahaha..."

Verdon's laughter echoed across the lake until it gradually subsided.

In his eyes, the gentleness that had always been present before vanished, replaced instead by apathy; at this moment, he seemed to have returned to the appearance he was originally most famous for.

He spread his hands and looked at his palms:

"They always think that if they scheme right under my nose, I will remain unaware;

They always think that they have long since thoroughly understood my temperament and habits;

Alas, I am just too lazy to look, and even lazier to manage; as long as no major disaster occurs, I just let them be.

Using my name to win people over and arrange their own subordinates is all normal, is it not? Anyone in that position would do the same.

The prerequisite is, do not utterly ruin it for me.

Yet even when they did ruin it, I still gave them a chance; they have already knelt down, and I have made things so completely clear, yet they still chose not to be candid with me.

They truly believe they can deceive me from beginning to end.

Oh,

They have merely served me, whereas I have served the High Priest.

Can I and the High Priest even be compared?

Can those who served the High Priest and those who served me even be compared?

It is just a pity, though,

When this matter is over,

I will no longer be able to play with ants."

Verdon reached out, picked up the fishing rod once more, and lifted it in one smooth motion.

The next instant,

The lake froze, an ice mountain rose again, and the island in the center of the lake was instantly sealed in ice.

A massive frost dragon soared up from the lake surface, following the direction where the Whipper's fishing rod whipped down, completing a leap much like a dolphin performance in a circus.

"Good boy, afterwards, those two pieces of meat will be rewarded to you as snacks."

...

The auditorium of the Whip of Order Headquarters Building, York City Region.

Here was the starting point of the vortex at this moment, and the vortex, in fact, was still swirling.

Neo had already flipped the table, and the pots, bowls, and various soups on the table splashed all over Minister Bernie.

Wiping it away was impossible now.

But rolling and crawling repeatedly on the messy floor again did not seem to appeal to him either.

Although he had not anticipated the situation taking such a turn, at least, the former him had dared to organize an "observation group" early on for political speculation; now, facing this chaos, he could still manage to stand up and choose to accept it.

Minister Bernie stood up; he did not explain, because this matter could not be explained.

He could not say this was just a misunderstanding, that everything was the insubordination of those two office directors on the stage; he could still distinguish the difference between choosing the wrong political side and political death.

Bernie spoke: "Everyone, the progress and results of the case investigation will be announced at the daily investigation press conferences hereafter. It is an honor to invite you all to supervise the work of our Whip of Order."

After speaking, Bernie raised his hand, but before he could give the order, he saw that all the members of Karen's squad had stood up, as if very thoughtfully following the procedure according to the predetermined plan, each standing behind a bound bishop, gesturing for the bishops to follow them to temporarily check into the luxury detention center first.

Bernie blinked; well, he did not find it strange anymore.

Wolffrun spoke: "Go ahead, all of you, do not feel guilty, just cooperate."

These words sounded to the bishops more like a promise and a guarantee, plus they were also very much looking forward to seeing how the Whip of Order would wrap things up after staging such a massive scene, so they all suppressed their anger and quite cooperatively allowed themselves to be "escorted away."

The meeting adjourned, and they left the venue.

Leon, who originally wanted to go and "escort" a bishop as well, was directly bumped by Wick, nearly knocking him over to the ground.

"Your task now is to keep the Chief Bishop company, represent our director to win his favor, and build a good relationship. Your task is the heaviest. Do not be afraid of losing face, even if you have to play the grandson in front of him."

Leon: "..."

Wick reached out and patted Leon's shoulder, comforting him: "Don't be nervous, I believe in your ability."

Leon could only reply: "Thank you... for your trust."

Karen and Neo walked out from the small door of the front hall and encountered Laure, who had caught up to them, looking at Karen in disbelief.

Before the meeting, he had even represented his grandfather to invite Karen to dinner, and he had even fantasized about entering Karen's team just like Leon.

But he had not expected that he indeed had to invite him to a meal, yet it turned out to be prison food.

He wanted to say something to Karen, or declare his attitude, such as... anger.

But when Karen and Neo turned their gaze toward him together, he merely muttered with his lips, swallowed his saliva, and then stepped aside, leaning against the wall.

Karen did not say anything more, and was too lazy to explain; when he agreed to the dinner, he did not know that Laure's grandfather's name would be written on the card.

At this moment, Bernie's figure appeared ahead, and behind Bernie stood a row of Order Clerics.

Bernie looked at Karen first and said: "The matter of the investigation will be handled by the First Office."

Karen nodded.

Bernie reached out, pointing at Neo, and said: "Director Neo of the Second Office, based on your past behavior, the department has now decided to launch an internal investigation against you. Please cooperate."

"Alright."

Neo appeared very composed.

Several priests stepped to Neo’s side. Neo raised his hands and brought them together, prompting a priest beside him to say, "Director, there is no need for handcuffs during an internal investigation."

"That won't do. Otherwise, it feels like something is missing. Better put them on. It’d be even better if you took a photo of me; I want something to remember this by."

"Director, that is a request we can hardly accommodate."

"We are all colleagues in the same department, can't you make an exception?"

"We are very sorry, Director, but you are truly putting us in a difficult position. Please come with us to undergo the investigation first."

"Heh, then next time I arrest you lot, don't blame me for refusing your requests too, haha."

Bernie frowned and ordered, "Take him away."

"Yes, Minister."

"Yes, Minister."

Alfred stepped up behind Karen, who said to him, "Begin the investigation. If you are short on hands, mobilize the Whiplash of Order squads from within this region. If that is still not enough, then requisition them from neighboring regions."

"That will require official correspondence, which will cause a slight delay."

"They aren't that busy. Issue it directly in my name. For any squad that doesn't show up, just make a note of it."

"Understood."

Hearing this, Bernie said, "The case files will be sent to your office by someone later."

"Very well, Minister."

"Do this job well, and remember, finish it quickly. It will be beneficial for you, and for me. Oh, and starting tomorrow, you will be in charge of announcing the developments at the press conferences." As he spoke, Bernie walked over to Karen, reaching out to gently straighten his collar. "After all, you are the face of our department."

"I shall follow your instructions, Minister, and complete all the work properly."

"Sometimes when doing things, it should be out of your own sense of responsibility and choice. You cannot always just do exactly what the higher-ups say word for word; that is not the vitality a young man should possess."

"Minister."

"Hmm?"

"Did you have it?"

Bernie’s gaze narrowed slightly, a trace of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Some misunderstandings, I will explain them to you afterwards. After all, you are a young man I think very highly of."

"And you were a superior I thought highly of, originally."

"Regardless, we are in the same boat. If the boat capsizes, we will both drown."

"Do you know what the most rational way to save a drowning person is? It is when he has nearly exhausted his strength from thrashing about. Otherwise, if you approach him, instinct will drive him to clutch onto you tightly,

and then,

drag you down to drown with him."

As Karen spoke, he brushed past Bernie, calling out to Neo, who was being escorted ahead, "Hey, what do you want for dinner? I'll have it sent to the detention center for you."

Neo called back without breaking his stride:

"Are you cooking it yourself?"

"Yes."

"Oil-sprayed noodles!"

"Fine."

Neo raised an arm, reminding him, "Don't forget to bring garlic!"

"Got it."