Chapter 655: Remember Some of My Good Deeds

Chapter 655: Remember a Little of My Goodness

“This request of yours catches me quite by surprise; I had thought you would propose a more immediate and practical condition.”

“Because for the moment, I ask nothing else of you, nor do I feel I am at a disadvantage. Quite the contrary, I believe I stand to gain immensely.”

Karen shook his head.

Davins smiled. “You don't believe me? Truth be told, I have been watching you for a long time. How should I put it—you are highly impulsive yet deeply rational. Of course, that is not what matters most. What matters most is that the path you walk now, along with the designs those above have for you, has already been set in stone.

You must know what the current Chief Bishop of this region used to do. He lived his entire life in the shadows, forced to come into the light only because of what happened last time.

Yet, stepping out of the shadows brings merely a touch of discomfort, whereas stepping from the light back into the shadows... there is simply no such opportunity.

This is where you differ from our Lord Chief Bishop. He walked out, but you cannot walk in. From now on, you can only be used by higher authorities as a blade, time and time again.

This time is an excellent example. The higher-ups originally intended to seek vengeance, which is why they assigned you to oversee the security for the Desert Church.

Although the current directive calls for a halt, such dirty and exhausting work has already fallen to you by default.”

Karen raised his teacup and remained silent. What Davins said was almost identical to what Regional Director Suse had told him.

Because he saw this trend clearly, the Regional Director, who had already treated him well, now behaved with even greater warmth.

“Unless you suffer an untimely demise or trip and fall to your death along this path one day, once you truly advance far down this road, then in the future, should the higher-ups deem it necessary, purging us...”

Davins pointed a finger at his own face.

“The task of purging us will most likely still be handed to you. You must understand that we, too, believe in Order. Our relationships are exceedingly complex. Do you know how many people stand behind me, and across which posts they are distributed?

Furthermore, you should well understand the consequences of raising a slaughtering blade against your own kind, yet this is your destiny.

It is often said that one can glimpse the man in the child, and the same holds true for a career.

Therefore, my request is sincere. Should the day come when we fail, when those above truly can no longer tolerate our existence... do not hesitate. Do what must be done, I only ask that you do not go out of your way to utterly exterminate us.

Can you promise me this, Minister Karen?”

Karen remained silent.

Davins lifted the teapot, replenishing their cups in turn, and said, “Thank you for not giving me a swift answer. It shows me your sincerity.”

“I strongly dislike your choice of words.”

“Heh, if we have many opportunities to interact in the future, I shall change them.”

“I promise you.”

“Thank you.” Davins crossed his hands over his chest. “In this cooperation, I have profited.”

“I do not particularly enjoy dealing with people like you, for you always love to mysteriously mark down one node after another upon the future, as if you have mastered and seen through everything.”

“But this is not divination; it is merely a rational analysis based on existing conditions. I do not believe you will stumble halfway. Had you been prone to falling, you would have fallen long ago, yet you continue to sit here. This is no mere luck.

Now, may we change the subject?”

“Since the matter of our cooperation is settled, next...”

“Do not be in such a hurry. That meeting will not end anytime soon. With the Desert surrendering so swiftly, the lords above who are handling this on our side will surely want to swallow up as much as possible. We have plenty of time.

When did you first learn of us? Do not tell me it was from the Chief Bishop, because I can see it was not.”

“How then should I answer?”

“Just answer truthfully. To put it a bit extravagantly, from the moment you walked through the living room door, starting with your left foot, I sensed that you harbored a profound wariness toward us... no, a revulsion.

In your eyes, we are like a vat of sauce breeding maggots, something you instinctively wish to avoid.”

Karen smiled faintly. “Yet sometimes, even a maggot-infested sauce vat can yield an excellent flavor.”

“Indeed. You understand us, yet you negate us.”

“You truly ought to become a diviner.”

“Alas,” Davins sighed. “Let me ask more concretely then. In your eyes, what is the difference between us and the High Priest?”

“That question is far too vast; I do not believe I am qualified to answer it.”

“Even a Vienese taxi driver can criticize the colonial policies of the Wien Empire. Minister Karen, your status is already high enough.”

“Very well. In my view, the High Priest is a pragmatic reformer.”

“Mhm, good. And what of us?”

“A pack of passionate idealists.”

“I understand.” Davins stood up, smoothing his divine robes as he spoke. “To a certain extent, I admit you are correct.”

“And then?”

Karen asked as he too rose, both men in tacit agreement to bring this meeting to an end.

“Radicalism and conservatism are relative. Without the radical, the conservative cannot be thrown into relief; without a left, where would there be a right?

In your eyes, we are the idealists. But believe it or not, sooner or later, you will discover that our High Priest...

He,

is the true idealist.”

...

Stepping out of the teleportation array's ring of light, Karen and Alfred walked down the stairs. A café waiter stepped forward, offering a packaged meal box, which Alfred reached out to accept.

“Young Master, please wait a moment. I will go bring the car around.”

Before long, Alfred drove the VIP car over—Neo's precious darling, which was now instead used more frequently by Karen's side.

Yet this was only natural; perhaps what Neo truly cared about was the thrill of the chase, for he was unaccustomed to facing the reality of possession.

Once inside the car, Davins's final words still echoed in Karen's mind.

“Young Master, if we awaken Morindi, we might uncover the true secret.”

“Secrets cannot serve as bread.”

To awaken a “powder keg” for the sake of a secret was simply a bad bargain.

“What the Young Master says is true.”

“You will have a heavy task ahead in managing the contacts. I am quite curious to see just how much power they possess. Furthermore, go over the roster of the newly appointed bishops once more. I suspect some of their people have ascended this time.”

“Your subordinate understands.”

“Let us return to the hotel.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

By the time they returned to the Ankara Hotel, the afternoon session had already commenced. Karen did not head to the conference hall but returned to his own room instead.

He was fond of the Ankara Hotel's layout facing the sea. The gloom, the damp chill, combined with the routinely overcast weather, created an oppressive atmosphere akin to an ink-wash painting, perfectly suited for letting one's thoughts wander.

Alfred poured Karen a glass of ice water and then departed; he was already busy, and he would only be busier from now on.

Karen gently massaged the space between his brows with his fingertips. Leaning back against the sofa facing the French windows, he drifted into a daze.

The passage of time often quickened during such moments; it felt as though he had only sat for a brief while before night fell completely.

“Phew...”

Stretching his arms, Karen felt weary, but it was a comfortable, soothing kind of exhaustion.

He skipped dinner and instead took a long shower before sinking into bed; at that moment, it felt as though his body and the soft duvet had achieved a state of flawless harmony.

That night, Karen slept profoundly well.

Over the next three days, Karen spent his mornings sitting in the conference room, listening half-heartedly to the agenda, but he skipped the afternoon sessions entirely, choosing instead to pass the time idling in his room, eating a sparse dinner before retiring early to bed.

It truly felt like a vacation, and an all-expenses-paid one at that; regardless of anything else, the lingering fatigue he had carried back from the Subterranean Cult had been utterly dissolved over these past few days.

There was also a piece of good news during this time: Philomena and the others had all fully recovered from their injuries, been discharged from the hospital, and rejoined the squad.

Karen did attend the conference this afternoon, because a person of distinct importance had arrived at the venue from the Dingge Arch-Region: Kiesen, the Deputy Director of the Diplomatic Department of the Church of Order.

The moment Kiesen stepped into the hall, Karen recognized him at a glance—a middle-aged man whose countenance remained strikingly youthful, possessing a peculiar aura that manifested in his every gesture and movement.

If one had to describe it precisely, it was perhaps the very demeanor most people believed Order ought to possess: cold and aloof, yet entirely elegant. After all, his previous role had been as one of the official spokespersons for the Church, making his personal image of paramount importance.

"One of his ancestors is an Elder of the Pantheon," Richard said, sliding an information card over to Karen.

Having already become the director of a certain office, Richard was now proving his utility, having swiftly unearthed Kiesen’s background with absolute clarity, a task made all the easier by his own family connections.

"A living one?" Karen asked.

"Yes, alive, though of a very senior generation."

Condensing shards of divinity to enter the Pantheon granted an extension of one's lifespan, which was precisely why so many clerics dreamed of entering its halls; furthermore, this longevity bonus was relatively natural, not obtained through erratic or extreme methods—at least, so it appeared on the surface.

Kiesen's arrival elevated the atmosphere of the conference into a state of quiet fervor, thereby accelerating the entire proceedings, an outcome that would undoubtedly count toward his political achievements.

Although the current High Priest maintained an attitude of suppression toward the Pantheon, that policy only extended to pushing the Pantheon's hands away from the topmost tier of governance; while the descendants of the Pantheon Elders found it difficult to enter the inner circle of the Church, their general advancement was by no means barred, and in truth, such a total ban was impossible, as they remained a vital component of the Church's power structure.

According to the original plan, the meetings were supposed to drag on for at least three more days, yet today, nearly the entire protocol had been concluded. Tomorrow would merely require a few closing formalities; if they hurried, a celebratory banquet could be held tomorrow evening, allowing the contingent from the Desert Cult to return home the following day.

Karen knew that the time remaining for him was short, but fortunately, the operational plans were already complete. He had even drawn up two variations: one to strike inside the hotel, and the other to strike while escorting them out of the territory, leaving the final choice to Karen.

The meeting adjourned.

Just as Karen was preparing to leave, Byrne walked straight down from the main conference table and took a seat right beside him.

With the two of them sitting there, the surrounding crowd immediately steered clear of the area.

"A new development," Byrne said.

"Because of him?"

"He is merely one manifestation of the situation."

"Do not speak in riddles."

"There is a dinner gathering later. Kiesen will be there, as will the delegation from the Dingge Arch-Region; consider it an early internal celebration of the conference's success. Are you coming?"

Karen shook his head.

"Before the session began, I chatted with him. He brought you up, expressing quite an interest in you."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"A direct descendant of a Pantheon Elder, a future banner figure heavily backed by a powerful faction—and you dismiss him so casually?"

Who wasn't backed by someone?

"Can he help us break through our current deadlock to gain a promotion?" Karen countered.

"Work is work, and my position no longer allows me to act on impulse. By the way, Sousse will also be attending, and he will have something to say to you then."

Karen's eyes narrowed slightly, instantly discerning the true meaning hidden beneath Byrne’s cryptic words:

"Are they replacing the head of security?"

"Heh, congratulations, you guessed right. After the dinner tonight, he intends to take a stroll through the Wien Royal Palace, and he specifically requested your company."

"And my duties?"

"Sousse will personally take your place. Your Regional Director has to afford him that much respect."

"When was this decided?"

"A temporary decision made just before the meeting. I am not trying to stir up trouble, but your Regional Director likely only received the notice just now; he has no intention of keeping you in the dark and should be notifying you to explain the situation very shortly."

"Are they really that distrustful of me?" Karen asked.

Byrne shrugged and replied, "You tell me—isn't this defensive move of theirs exactly the right play?"

"Heh."

"You were originally the blade the higher-ups intended to use for killing. Now that the higher-ups no longer wish to kill, they must naturally set you aside first out of courtesy. Those above would never suspect that this blade of theirs had already resolved to do some killing entirely on its own."

"And then?"

"And then, the question is: are you ready on your end?"

"I am ready."

"Then tonight is your last chance. Even if your Regional Director takes over personally, it will take him a certain amount of time to redeploy the personnel and restructure the security system. Before midnight tonight is your final window to strike."

"I understand."

"Are you attending the dinner or not?"

"No."

"What about the stroll through the royal palace tonight?"

"I will be there."

"Good." Byrne stood up and patted Karen on the shoulder. Just as Karen thought he was about to leave, Byrne sat back down, his expression turning somewhat somber.

"Is there something else?" Karen asked.

"Do you believe in my intuition?"

"No."

"Uh..." Byrne gave Karen a somewhat pained look. "Then do you believe in my professional competence?"

"Yes."

"A possibility suddenly occurred to me, triggered by Kiesen's arrival... Karen, we cannot use them anymore."

"Them" referred to Da Vince and his cohort.

"Why?"

"With Kiesen here, it is impossible to keep it a secret from them. I have always believed that among this newly appointed batch of Bishops, with the exception of Delon, every single one of them could be their people.

Never trust their credibility; they can use their so-called ideals and faith to justify every single one of their absurd actions—that is my understanding of them.

Before Kiesen arrived, I thought that if you absolutely had to kill someone, borrowing them as a blade was quite suitable. Now that Kiesen is here, in their eyes, killing the people from the Desert Cult is merely a way to manifest their philosophy, an expression of dissatisfaction and a rebellion against the Church's current state of affairs;

But in reality, they would much prefer to purge members of their own Church.

It is the exact same act, but if you were in their shoes, would you want to go through with killing the Desert Cult faction, or would you rather kill Kiesen? The forces behind him are the true drivers who overturned the original plan, and in the eyes of that group... they are traitors to the doctrine."

Saying this, Byrne's gaze suddenly grew sharp, and he cursed:

"Damn it, I need to investigate exactly who it was that suggested Kiesen go for a stroll in the Wien Royal Palace tonight!"

The former head of a shadow organization and leader of an intelligence department found that even after rehabilitating his image to become a Chief Bishop, his past professional instincts still had not faded away.

Bourne stood up once more and began to walk out.

Cullen called out to stop him: "Nothing more to say?"

"Is there anything else that needs to be said?" Bourne paused and countered with a question, "Will you give up?"

Cullen's answer was crisp and direct: "No."

"Then I have no need to say another word. Kisen is no ordinary figure; to some extent, he is a special envoy dispatched from above. Once he dies, the nature of the situation will be entirely different from the deaths of those people in the desert, and the impact will be worlds apart. Consequently, whoever is responsible for security will surely face disaster.

Fortunately, this does not fall within my scope of work; the Regional Management Office has already ceded this part of its authority to the Whip of Order.

From my perspective, I would actually be quite pleased to see Kisen die. The waves that follow would provide the perfect opportunity for me to restructure the Regional Management Office a second time, perhaps even forcing the higher-ups, out of a need for stability, to return the darker powers they stripped from me before.

It won't matter much to you either. In a short while, you will be relieved of this security detail, and your superior will take charge. When the investigation comes down afterward, your superior will likely have to vacate his post.

It is a pity that both of us, due to our past actions, have no hope of promotion. Otherwise, this would be a genuinely splendid opportunity for you—a chance to topple your immediate superior and take his place.

The only unlucky one will be Sousse."

Bourne walked away after spelling out the blunt truth.

Cullen sat in his original spot for a moment before getting up to leave. He did not attend the so-called internal gathering, even though it was an excellent social opportunity for a young cleric.

However, upon returning to his room, Cullen saw two people standing at his door. They were Sousse's secretaries.

They opened the door for Cullen, and inside, he saw Sousse lying on the sofa, holding a glass of red wine.

Viewed from behind, he resembled an undisciplined child, daring to soil an expensive sofa with his shoes.

Hearing Cullen's footsteps, Sousse did not turn his head but spoke directly: "That special envoy wants to relieve you of your duties for this mission. Starting tonight, I will personally take charge of security."

"I understand," Cullen replied.

Sousse drained the red wine in his glass in a single gulp, then slammed both hands fiercely against the surface of the sofa as if throwing a tantrum. Yes, he looked even more like a child now.

Cullen stood there silently.

After a long silence,

Sousse's emotions finally settled, and he spoke: "I had someone pass a message to you to stop, didn't I?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"I never approached you personally about this because... I knew you wouldn't stop. After all, Wolfrun treated you so well; you would certainly want to avenge him." Sousse let out a couple of cold chuckles, picked up the wine bottle, and poured himself another brim