Chapter 650: Attack

Chapter 650: Attack

His immediate superior's line of thinking left Karen somewhat surprised.

Sousse, however, remained immersed in his blueprint, continuing, "Look, could we perhaps turn our place into a 'Foreign Religion Study Abroad Talent Cultivation Base'?"

"Your idea..."

"Quite a few churches have this need right now, and you're the one who has to handle it. Because of your special identity—it can be said that the reason they're willing to arrange for people to be here is precisely because of your uniqueness.

If you can bring in another batch, we can skim off another batch. As long as we can launder the vouchers into allowances without committing any fundamental errors, even if the higher-ups investigate, they won't punish us.

This is practically making money lying down!"

"But sir, if we do that, our reputation..."

Luring them in and killing them off one by one was indeed very gratifying; moreover, not only could they pocket the initial "relationship-greasing fees," but the subsequent "maintenance fees" would also provide a long-term, stable income. Should they dare refuse to pay, their people would simply be assigned to the most hazardous, casualty-prone missions to undergo the crucible of "blood and fire." This was tantamount to holding hostages, ready to kill at any moment if vouchers weren't provided—a sustainable way of draining the pond to catch the fish.

But their reputation would be utterly ruined.

"Ah, that has nothing to do with me. I'm only working here for a few years anyway. Given your abilities, the share of credit I'll skim over these few years will be enough to get me promoted to the Dingle Region."

"So..."

"It's a bargain." Sousse rubbed his small hands together. "You bear the bad reputation, we split the profits, and then you sift through and see what other gray areas we have here at headquarters that catch your eye and that I can give you."

"This..."

"Anyway, I'll just do this for a few years, take my credit, and leave. I told you from the very first time we met that I wouldn't stand opposed to you. As for what happens after I leave, when the next successor comes along and finds that the headquarters' authority has been entirely seized by you, that has nothing to do with me. It's not like I can arrange for my son to inherit my position, hehe."

Many people share a misconception that power flows from the top down—that once an appointment order comes from above, the new leader can instantly grasp the authority of the department.

But in reality, power generally flows from the bottom up. Even if you are the leader in name, they can make it so your political decrees never leave your office.

Power is a dynamic word; at its core, it is a struggle between people.

Even after the Grand Priest ascended to power, he still needed to pass through a series of factional struggles to truly control the Church; otherwise, he would only end up like Rasma, a noble mascot.

Yet Sousse's stance caught Karen somewhat by surprise, for he was retreating far too much, and far too cleanly—it felt like someone trying to dodge an exploding cesspool.

"To tell you the truth, I've seen some signs." Sousse sighed. "Do you know what a white glove means?"

Karen nodded; his own home housed a very noble white glove.

Sousse licked his lips. "I've realized that because of your prior reputation, your age, and your current position—well, for various reasons that you know full well in your own heart—you probably won't be promoted again in this lifetime. You don't disagree with that, do you?"

"Mm."

"Add to that the business with the Crypt Church, which you handled wonderfully. And now with the Desert Church, the higher-ups let slip their thoughts to me so blatantly... In short, everything is relative. The higher-ups won't just watch you and Bourne sit here forever; they will find things for you to do.

This kind of dancing on a knife's edge will definitely not be rare in the future. Difficult, dirty, and exhausting chores, tasks where an error in handling means bearing the blame, will only increase."

"Are you afraid, sir?"

"Yes, I am. I might as well rake in more funding, restore the headquarters' operations, make things look beautiful on the surface, and then you do your work well so that before you stumble, I can earn enough seniority and leave.

I really don't want to contend anymore. After all, I have a way out, so there's no need to vie for position with you in this whirlpool; it's pointless.

These are my honest thoughts."

"I understand, sir."

"So, keep an active eye out for this 'foreign student' business. Now that we've split from the Regional Management Office, relying solely on allocations from above isn't even enough to fill the gaps. In short, headquarters... lacks funding."

"Rest assured, sir, I will arrange it."

"I trust your ability. Anyway, you're responsible for the work, and I'm responsible for slacking off, haha."

...

A snowfall formally raised the curtain on Wien's winter.

Karen extended his hand, lightly catching a few snowflakes in his palm, watching them slowly melt. Ever since coming to Wien, he had loathed the weather here; it could be said that every time the people living here encountered a sunny day, it felt as though their first love had suddenly reappeared before them.

No wonder the early ancestors of Wien were pirates; rather than enduring this place grimly, it was better to sail out and plunder.

Well, it was the same now. Added together, the colonies of the Wien Empire were vastly larger than the main island itself. It still hadn't changed its nature; it had merely learned to don a gentleman's coat under the guise of "modern civilization."

The VIP car pulled up ahead. Leon got out to open the door, and Karen stepped inside.

Philomena and the others were still lying in the hospital. Their injuries were no longer severe, but Karen required them to strictly follow the recovery protocol. They were all young people with great potential, and Karen was unwilling to overextend them.

But because of this, the hands around him suddenly grew scarce. Wick went to take charge of the Remnants of Light department, leaving Alfred to handle many aspects entirely on his own.

Karen had called the hospital, implying that the "bat" could return to work in a wheelchair, and promised to ask the regional director to award him a minor Outstanding Worker medal at the end of the year.

But that "bat" clearly lacked political consciousness;

Not only did he shout curses over the phone, but afterward he even actively applied to extend his annual leave, intending to rest his fill all at once.

Yet Karen knew very well that no matter how severely Neo was injured, as long as he hadn't died and had passed the initial crisis, his recovery speed was incredibly fast—because for him, there was only "critical condition" to "fully recovered," with no "minor injury" stage at all.

To this, Karen could only lament: As expected of a Remnant of Light, his heart is not with my Order.

"Chief, everything has been arranged on all fronts. They are expected to arrive at the rendezvous point in an hour."

"Mm."

Karen nodded. The team from the Desert Church hadn't come by ship, nor had they come directly to the Clergy Building via a teleportation array; instead, they went to Sampu City first, and then transferred to York City from there.

This was their own request, on the grounds of keeping their itinerary confidential, but in Karen's eyes, it resembled children playing a game they thought was clever.

But there was no choice; since they insisted on doing things this way, his side had to alter their usual security mission plans.

The VIP car stopped by the side of the highway. Not far behind was a gas station; both sides were very wide open, which, combined with the continuously falling heavy snow, made it a natural ambush site.

This was probably part of their plan too; they likely preferred to be ambushed, so that Order would grow even angrier with the Wilderness.

But the problem was, based on the information Karen had obtained from Sousse, Order was clearly considering whether to vent its anger on them first.

Therefore, he was a protector now, but perhaps in a few days—midway through the meeting or just after it concluded—he would turn into a "butcher."

This shift in identity was indeed quite interesting, and Karen even felt a touch of anticipation in his heart.

Soon, a convoy appeared ahead, escorted by eight squads of the Whip of Order—a massive scale.

Only when someone from the opposing side got out of their car and walked close did Leon step out to open the door for Karen.

Stepping onto the snowy ground in his boots, Karen stood in place with a faint smile, watching the approaching figure.

According to the intelligence, there were three heads of this conference team. One was an old man named Elanga Boning, who had once held a high position in the Wilderness Church but had spent his entire life quietly working toward the revival of the Desert Church;

That the Desert Church's splintering momentum could be so massive now was inextricably linked to his dedication. To the Wilderness Church, Elanga was a veteran traitor, an enemy within.

One was a middle-aged woman, quite stout with a large mole near her mouth, named Miki Jacques. Her family had always worshipped the God of the Desert and lived in the shadows, serving as a leading family of the underground revival forces, working in tandem with Elanga—one in the dark, one in the light.

There was also a child, about the same age as Ventura, named Luther, last name unknown. In the propaganda of the Desert Church revivalists, he was the successor to the God of the Desert.

However, the dossier Karen received from above clearly pointed out that he was a fake.

Evidently, the relevant departments of Order had long since investigated and confirmed the child's status; the truth proved that he was merely a propaganda specimen used to win people's hearts.

Among the three, the stout woman named Miki had the word "Vigilance" marked on her profile, signifying her immense strength. Moreover, in verifiable records, she had successfully assassinated high-ranking Wilderness priests on multiple occasions;

How high-ranking... translated to Order, it meant she had killed at least three bishops.

There were bound to be many unrecorded kills as well.

Although it was labeled "assassination," and it was possible her targets weren't adept at combat, this woman was clearly not to be underestimated.

It was Elanga who greeted Karen first: "Praise the Desert. You must be Minister Karen. It is a great honor to meet you here, and we are humbled that you have come to receive us in person."

"Praise Order. It is only my duty. You are friends of our Church of Order, and no amount of courtesy could be considered excessive."

Elanga introduced the person beside him to Karen: "This is Lady Miki. Her family has always held fast to their oath to the Desert, never wavering."

"Hello, Minister Karen."

"Hello."

"And this is the inheritor of our great God of the Desert, His Highness Luther."

The boy looked at Karen and offered him a reserved smile—one that had clearly been practiced.

Karen returned the gesture with a more professional, guarded smile of his own.

Then, completely ignoring this "Son of God," he gestured to invite them into the vehicle.

Miki reminded him: "Minister Karen, His Highness is greeting you."

"Oh, I did not hear him. I am not deaf, so, is your Highness a mute?"

"Minister Karen, do you know what you are saying?"

Karen frowned slightly and spoke: "Are you trying to gauge my Church's stance toward this conference through my attitude? I am afraid I have no connection with the lords responsible for the meeting.

If that is not the case, then are you intentionally trying to cause trouble here?

Very well, I can accommodate your request."

Elanga immediately stepped forward to smooth things over: "It is all a misunderstanding, a minor misunderstanding. Come, Your Highness, Lady Miki, let us get into the car."

The three of them entered the vehicle.

Luther sat in the middle, with Elanga and Miki flanked on either side.

Karen sat alone, directly opposite them.

Due to the prior verbal friction, the atmosphere inside the carriage grew somewhat oppressive.

Several times Elanga tried to liven up the mood and initiate a conversation, but Karen deliberately refused to take the bait, keeping his head down as he examined his fingernails.

It was not that Karen was intentionally giving them the cold shoulder, but rather that the true negotiation had already begun at this very moment. The firm stance on his part was meant to pave the way for the subsequent meetings.

He was merely following protocol.

Halfway through the journey, Luther suddenly spoke up: "Minister Karen, you are very handsome."

Karen paused for a moment but offered no response.

Immediately after, Luther turned to look out the window. At this point, the motorcade was traveling along the coastal highway, which would lead straight to the Ankara Hotel if followed to its end.

However, just then, a violent surge of energy erupted from the sea.

The sand on the beach began to boil, condensing into a giant of sand that came charging toward the road.

Yet, without needing a command from Karen, several squads from the Whiplash of Order materialized from the shadows on both sides to intercept the sand giant, while the motorcade itself pressed onward.

Elanga spoke: "Assassins from the Church of the Wasteland! Damn them, they truly cannot tolerate us!"

Even on a theatrical stage, the old man's performance would have seemed a bit overwrought.

Karen did not join the conversation, merely blowing gently on his fingernails.

It was still entirely uncertain which faction had actually sent the assassins.

After traveling a bit further, the motorcade reached a fork in the road.

Leon activated the hidden array of the VIP vehicle, allowing another identical VIP car to merge into the convoy and take its place. The original motorcade continued forward, while the VIP car containing Karen veered onto a side road where a security force had been waiting, completing the switch.

Luther smiled and said, "Beautiful." As if to prevent Karen from misunderstanding, he added, "Professional."

Karen bent down, opened the small car refrigerator, pulled out a glass of iced soda, and said, "Help yourselves."

With that, he began to drink by himself.

Miki suddenly spoke: "The dismissive attitude I showed toward the Church of Order..."

"Lady Miki, please be quiet!" Elanga barked at his female companion.

Were they still playing good cop, bad cop?

He had noticed the woman's subtle movements when she boarded the carriage and took her seat; she feigned a reckless personality, yet she possessed the instinctual etiquette of a noble.

Leon reported: "Minister, the decoy motorcade has come under attack."

Karen nodded and said, "Order them not to break through. Hold their ground and defend, and simultaneously order the reinforcements to move in."

"Yes, Minister."

Elanga smiled and said, "Minister Karen's arrangements are truly flawless."

Karen spoke: "If you had chosen a safer method to come to York City, we would be even more flawless."

"We also have our own difficulties, please understand."

"I express my understanding, but after you check into the Ankara Hotel, I will not allow you to violate my security regulations, because my patience is limited, and I must be responsible for the safety of my subordinates."

"Yes, of course."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a cloud of sand suddenly appeared in the sky ahead, quickly condensing into a large circle within which a storm of lightning seemed to flash.

Soon, a massive arm enveloped in thunder slammed directly down toward the VIP vehicle below.

Leon immediately activated the VIP vehicle's defenses while accelerating at the same time.

"Hum!"

"Boom!"

The force of the punch missed the VIP vehicle and landed behind it. The scattered power of the lightning overturned the two security vehicles in the rear but failed to affect this VIP car.

It was, after all, a high-end model built by Neo draining his entire fortune, and it was indeed incredibly sturdy.

"Notify the regional management office, and additionally send a signal to the Guardians, leaving it to them to handle."

"Yes, Minister."

Leon continued to drive.

For a long time afterward, they encountered no further attacks. In the distance, the architectural silhouette of the Ankara Hotel could already be seen.

Logically speaking, they had completely entered the safe zone, yet the attack descended precisely at this moment.

With a resounding "boom," the fluctuations of a magical array appeared on the road, and the speed of the VIP vehicle was instantly reduced to its lowest.

At the same time, barriers of the array materialized at both the front and rear sections, blocking the escort vehicles and trapping the VIP car in the middle.

This was an attack precise to the extreme, completely separating the protected from their security forces. However, Karen did not feel particularly surprised, because this was a prelude he had arranged himself.

Yes, he had staged an assassination, so that when the real order was handed down later, it would not seem abrupt for lack of groundwork.

On both sides, a team of attackers dressed in robes of Light and wearing masks appeared, rapidly closing in on the VIP vehicle.

Karen picked up the Sword of Diamans, threw open the car door, and barked a single word: "Defend!"

Miki immediately gripped a blade and followed Karen out of the car. Catching sight of the approaching remnants of Light, a contemptuous smile appeared on her face as she said:

"A pack of rabble."

Then why don't you just go!

A cold sneer rippled through Kaelen's heart. Given the temperament she usually flaunted, shouldn't she have already charged out to slaughter those wretched bastards? Why was she still lingering here, waiting for him to make the first move?

Mickey was indeed waiting for Kaelen to strike, but within moments, she saw him plunge his greatsword straight into the earth. With his hands now freed, he began to construct a defensive array, all while giving her an abrupt command:

"Buy me a little time to set up this formation."

Mickey was left speechless.

"Move it!"

Spurred by Kaelen's urging, Mickey conjured a suit of sand armor around herself and charged forward.

Yet the moment she lunged, a sudden, blinding light erupted from a seemingly unremarkable figure among the remnants of the Light; clad in the armor of a Holy Knight, he slammed into the caught-off-guard Mickey, sending her flying.

He even deliberately paused, leaving Kaelen with nothing but the view of his retreating back.

Who else could it possibly be,

if not the chief of reconnaissance, who, driven by the harsh realities of making a living, had taken a leave of absence from the Order to moonlight for the Light and earn some extra cash.