Chapter 672: It's Not Like He Can Beat Me to Death!

Chapter 672: He Couldn't Possibly Beat Me to Death Anyway!

"Director, based on the clues obtained so far, we can roughly outline the following four elements... Oh, thank you."

Vick took the teacup from Lucy's hands, then quite naturally fished out a few ice cubes from the thermos flask on the coffee table and dropped them into the hot tea.

Lucy noticed this scene; as a student of the former Great Priest... to think he would act so casually in front of him.

After taking two polite sips of tea, Vick continued:

"The first element is location. York City—no, the entirety of Wien, is actually the traditional sphere of influence of our Church of Order. Especially recently, with so many major events happening in York City, the York City Office of the Church of the Abyss still chose to carry out this kind of activity here. This means that what they want to do is confined to Wien and its surrounding waters."

Dack, who had already returned after retrieving the records, asked subconsciously, "But wouldn't that make the scope even larger? Why is it limited only to York City? After all, there are other cities."

Vick frowned, instinctively feeling a wave of aversion at having his report interrupted.

Why, why, why?

Am I working or am I teaching?

Vick possessed a special status, and his good attitude was reserved for specific people; only in front of Karen and Alfred would he appear humble.

Therefore, Vick was actually somewhat like Philomena.

Karen looked at Dack and replied, "Because in the entirety of Wien, the vast majority of true artists, and those who consider themselves true artists, are in York City."

Vick immediately realized that using this place as a temporary office was not a random coincidence. He instantly put on a warm smile and said to Dack, "Hehe, that is precisely the reason."

"Oh, so that's how it is. My apologies, my apologies, please continue." Dack also realized that his interruption had been rather abrupt.

"The second element is time. Although we don't yet know their purpose in collecting the vital energy of these so-called 'artists,' they are clearly in a great hurry. Especially this method of setting quotas is enough to show that they are racing against time.

The third element is motivation. Being able to make the Church of the Abyss dispatch their own priests to act as service staff proves that the value of this matter is immense—so immense that priests, who generally consider themselves high and mighty, are willing to serve ordinary people.

The fourth element is... the target.

This bizarre requirement is somewhat incomprehensible to me. I believe what it needs is vital energy, but the additional conditions are truly..."

Karen spoke up, "It isn't a human."

Vick's gaze focused, and he immediately raised his hand as if trying to grasp something, saying, "So... it's an artifact spirit?"

Karen looked down at the cigarette butt in his teacup. Previously, he had used that cigarette to attempt a simulation. For the Church of the Abyss to pull off this kind of stunt on Order's territory, and for the consumer to make such an unreasonable request, it could only prove one thing... the consumer was immature.

In front of the Church of Order, almost the entire orthodox church circle needed to become rational.

Only with a newborn baby would you have no way to reason; you could only coax it even if it meant biting the bullet. For example... a newly born artifact spirit.

Although most of the intelligence came from the confession of a low-level minor aberrant, there were actually many premises already laid out before them. To ultimately arrive at such a guess was quite normal.

Vick licked his lips and said, "The Church of the Abyss, a newborn artifact spirit... which is to say, they have obtained a divine artifact here, or at least a sacred artifact comparable to a divine artifact."

The grading of divine artifacts was highly complex, and the same went for sacred artifacts; some damaged divine artifacts might truly not match up to a pristine sacred artifact in terms of power.

But regardless, being able to make an orthodox church pull off this kind of stunt on Order's territory was enough to prove its value.

Karen extended a finger, "I have one more point to add. Any sacred artifact or divine artifact left behind in Wien and its surrounding waters inherently falls under the priority ownership of our Church of Order."

Vick nodded immediately and said, "In the operational report and the notifications to the District Head and the Chief, I will use this as the direction of our statement."

After all, this was an foreign affairs incident. First, they had to position their stance correctly, so as to facilitate the ensuing operations and evade subsequent troubles.

"Mm, let's do it that way. You will draft the operational plan for the general direction."

"Yes, Director. But I still need some supplements, and I hope you can provide some guidance."

"Three points of guidance: First, you will handle the release of the captured female aberrant, and use the opportunity to trace the transaction lines to prepare for a subsequent net-closing operation. Second, the starting point of this mission is right here; we must firmly grasp the source of this event—the Inquiry Bureau catching aberrants causing trouble—as this can gain us the diplomatic initiative. Third, I will personally go to that mansion tomorrow to conduct a preliminary investigation."

Vick recorded it all down, then stood up and said, "Please rest assured, I will arrange everything. Once the preliminary proposal is drafted, I will hand it to Mr. Alfred for review."

"Mm, that works."

"One last question, do you intend to go alone for the preliminary investigation?"

"No, it will be two people."

Vick instinctively puffed out his chest, but then realized something was wrong; he already had work assigned to him.

"Originally, I intended to ask you to come along, but now, there is a more suitable candidate."

Ever since entering the Hound Squad and coming into contact with the adult concept of a "pastry shop," Richard, who was wholeheartedly bent on proving he had grown up, had begun frantically exploring all the secrets of pastry shops in private, regardless of high or low class.

Yet Karen knew very well that this fellow really wasn't going there to sleep with anyone or do that kind of thing. He was more like going to experience life and make friends... like a painter sketching from life.

Was it because he lacked maternal love?

Because his parents' relationship had been frozen for a long time, leading to his constant lack of care and affection?

That wasn't right either. Delon and Madame Tonli treated him quite well, and looking at Richard's lively personality, where was there even a hint of childhood trauma?

So, he might really just purely like the atmosphere of such places.

What a pity he became a priest, otherwise he could truly travel the world and write a book titled "A Guide to the Flavors of Pastry Shops."

Of course, if he really did that, then his entire family, including his maternal grandmother, would probably mobilize collectively to break his legs and tie him up at home with a dog chain.

But no matter what, appointing his own cousin as the office director responsible for collecting information was truly the right appointment; he could actually predict the mission venue and had even prepared a membership card in advance.

Vick folded a black crow; he needed to deploy the personnel he required.

Karen then stood up and asked Lucy, "Could you arrange a guest room for me?"

"Oh, of course, it is an honor for my family." Lucy immediately led Karen to a guest room on the second floor of the house, which was cleaned very neatly.

"Director Karen, do you need anything else?"

"No need, thank you. Also, my apologies, the living room downstairs might get a bit noisy later."

"Please absolutely do not say that. My husband and I are deeply grateful to you."

Lucy had also heard the contents of the discussion in the living room earlier. If this matter truly involved an existence of that level, then the credit this time would be unimaginably immense. Her husband might truly achieve a career breakthrough because of this.

Although there was assistance from a "noble benefactor," the source of this matter was indeed investigated by her husband.

He would perform a detailed examination on every single corpse received by the funeral parlor opposite; this was a clue he had exchanged with his own meticulous work.

"Um..."

"Is there something else?"

"Director Karen, I plan to ask for leave tomorrow. I want to stay at home and see if I can be of any help."

"You don't need to ask for leave."

"But..."

"Vick will issue an official request letter for assistance, demanding the district's formation department to dispatch some formation masters to complete the mission together."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Director Karen, I am quite curious..."

"Curious about what?"

"No, it's nothing. Please have a good rest."

Closing the bedroom door, Karen lay on the bed. He wasn't actually sleepy, but as the team leader, his work was already complete. In order to give himself more of a sense of participation, he had even arranged a covert investigation mission for himself.

But now, the only thing he could do, presumably, was to find a quiet place to stay, lest he interfere with the performance of his subordinates.

Images of that night on Mink Street began to drift into his mind; he had been lying on the grass in a "dream," flanked by a woman on his left and a man on his right.

He had told them that he was not actually their son, yet they had chosen to help him anyway.

Otherwise, on that very night, Raneidal might have reclaimed "his" body before Diss could ever bind him away.

Karen knew very well that he harbored genuine affection for Madam Tangli, who had always cared for and nurtured him;

as for the rest of the Guman family, more often than not, Karen tolerated them solely for the sake of that "woman," who had once protected him before an evil god as though protecting her own son.

He owed her, and he could only repay that debt through his treatment of the Guman family.

"Knock, knock!"

A rap sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Richard pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Heheh, Karen, I knew you weren't asleep yet. I've brought all the files; Vike and the others are using them right now."

"Mm, did you bring the membership cards?"

"I did." Richard pulled out two certificates.

"You actually carry them on you?"

"How could I? I kept them in my office drawer. You know my home isn't always safe; if my dad caught me with them again, he wouldn't just break my legs this time—he'd probably snap my neck outright."

As Richard spoke, he made a sharp twisting gesture to the right with his neck.

"Is that place open in the morning?"

"It is; it's open twenty-four hours a day. Though it doesn't occupy much ground, its entertainment facilities are remarkably comprehensive. It's not even rare for some members to play inside for a week or even a month.

Well, I can act as your guide, so..."

"Tomorrow morning, I will take you there."

Richard clenched his fist, saying with great excitement, "Fantastic!"

Ever since that regional selection trial when Karen had carried him on his back up the snowy mountain, Richard had become a completely different person. He was no longer idle and lazy as before; he began to strive to make himself useful, rather than being mere dead weight by Karen's side.

He cherished every opportunity to prove his worth, even if it was just running errands or organizing documents, tasks he previously performed with great cheer and diligence.

Of course, if there were more important assignments for him to execute, that would be even better!

"Then I'll head down first. Get some good rest?"

"Mm."

Richard departed.

Lying on the bed, Karen stared at the ceiling and muttered to himself:

"An artifact, an artifact spirit, peculiar eccentricities... could this be connected to the Laks copper coins?"

...

Though he was not tired, Karen managed to catch some sleep anyway. His early training during security missions had accustomed him to catching up on sleep even when wide awake, much like a camel's dual humps storing reserves.

Lucie had arranged a fresh set of toiletries for Karen, placing them ahead of time on a chair outside his room door.

After washing up, Karen looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and suddenly realized that this casual outfit, handpicked for him by his grandmother, was exceptionally convenient for the current moment, saving him the trouble of searching for clothes.

Going downstairs, it was evident that breakfast had been prepared by Dark himself. After Vike and his subordinates moved in, the original master of the Inquisitorial office had transformed directly into the logistics coordinator.

There really was not much else he could intervene in now; last night, when Karen asked him to take his credentials to fetch the records, it was already the final task he could perform.

Yet, wearing his apron, he still seemed thoroughly delighted, bustling happily as he led several of his divine servants to serve breakfast.

To Karen's slight surprise, wontons were actually served here—clearly a culinary skill the son-in-law had surreptitiously learned from his mother-in-law, and they were not badly made at all.

This clerical couple within the Church certainly lived an exquisite little life.

Having stayed up all night but remaining perfectly radiant, Vike approached Karen with a bowl in hand, pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, and unfolded it to reveal... a cocoon.

"Chief, we analyzed the communication methods for after your infiltration last night. The Cult of the Abyss stands behind that mansion, and they are engaged in highly secretive affairs. To ensure you can send timely messages without completely falling out and alarming them, you will need a special method.

This is the method provided by Richard. He can make this cocoon change color from a very great distance, producing many different hues, and we have already mapped out signal annotations for each color."

"Yes, exactly. My aunt has already helped me test and verify it with an isolation array, so it's guaranteed to work," Richard added, walking over at that moment.

Karen nodded. "Then we shall use this."

Immediately after, Karen looked at Richard and remarked, "Little Jerry's capabilities have been developed quite well."

Richard gave a bitter smile. "Every time my dad thrashes me severely, it seems some functions I never had before always get unlocked."

"Then it appears this highly efficient method of cultivation needs to be maintained."

"Please, no. I'm truly worried that one day Little Jerry won't be able to stand this kind of life anymore and will run away from home."

At that, Richard himself chuckled.

Vike spoke again: "Chief, there is one more thing. A message came from Mr. Alfred. Director Sues summoned him for a talk regarding the Cult of the Desert; the wind from above has suddenly shifted."

"Shifted?"

"Yes, the voices that previously advocated utilizing the Cult of the Desert have vanished all at once. Furthermore, at dawn our local time, our Church specifically issued a public declaration demanding... that the Cult of the Wilderness immediately eradicate the remnants of the Desert who dared defy the majesty of Order and commit grave crimes against it."

"Remnants?"

Overnight, the Desert faithful had been summarily upgraded to the status of light-forsaken remnants.

However, the grand strategy of Order against the Wilderness would likely remain unchanged. After all, it was known from Compasini's burial ground that Order had spent centuries preparing in advance to annex the Wilderness.

Yet because the Desert faithful had assassinated Wolfrun, Order would rather choose a more arduous path of annexation.

"Do we know what caused this?"

The winds from the upper echelons certainly shifted erratically.

"We don't know, but I believe that achieving a consensus and issuing a rectification policy so quickly must have been a resolution approved at the Roundtable Conference. In addition, Director Sues subtly questioned Mr. Alfred, asking if we had anticipated the true direction of the wind beforehand."

"Heh." Karen could not help but smile.

Vike looked at Karen.

Karen asked, "Do you think so too?"

"I am merely curious as to how you..."

"There are no such things as shifting winds. Every direction is already written plainly within the 'Regulations of Order'."

"Understood. I shall read them thoroughly again in the near future."

Karen sighed. In that case, not only would Kisen escape punishment within his family, but he would instead become a hero of the family faction for anticipating the political maneuver in advance?

The affairs of this world were truly marvelous.

After breakfast, Karen checked the time and walked out of the Inquisitorial office with Richard.

"This mission carries the risk of unexpected dangers. When the time comes, do not worry about me; if you can escape, do everything in your power to do so."

"Karen, I understand." Richard nodded forcefully.

"But there is no need to be overly anxious. This is York City, after all... our territory."

"Indeed!"

"Are you driving?"

"I called Memphis to drive us over. Didn't you want him to be my deputy director? I had him agree last night to pick us up this morning and take us to the manor. He should be arriving shortly."

"You're letting him drive?"

"Why, is there an issue with that?"

"No, whatever pleases you."

"Beep beep!"

An unfamiliar sedan pulled up at the entrance, with Memphis behind the wheel, having deliberately switched to a more mundane vehicle.

Karen and Richard climbed into the back seat; along the way, Richard attempted to spark a conversation several times, but Karen intentionally chose not to engage.

As an older cousin, Karen was still being merciful.

Finally, they arrived at the entrance of the manor, which was laid out almost like a small estate.

Karen reached out to touch his silver ring, and his appearance shifted instantly; his original face had received far too much exposure lately, and he genuinely feared being recognized once inside.

Richard followed suit, touching his own ring to alter his features.

Ever since Mr. Lemar had been brought into the fold, his type of disguise rings had become standard issue for almost everyone around Karen.

Richard slapped Memphis on the back of the head and smiled, saying, "I say, shouldn't you hurry up and get out to open the door for our Lord Minister? Do I really need to teach you this?"

Memphis paused for a moment, then nodded and stepped out of the car.

Karen didn't wait for him to open the door, stepping out on his own.

"Here, here, Karen, here is your membership card. There's no photo on it, but you must remember your name and some basic background details." Richard pinned the membership card to the chest of Karen's clothes.

Karen asked, "I am the pianist, correct?"

"No, no, no, Karen, you are the author Richard. Remember, you are a writer, specialized in realistic literature.

Since I've never actually used this particular card to go inside and spend money, you won't have to worry about bumping into any acquaintances who might blow your cover."

"Acquaintances?"

"Yes, you have no idea, I am quite famous in there—a brilliant piano virtuoso who has even performed in their small recital hall. Hundreds of unclothed people sat there in absolute silence, receiving the baptism of my music."

Richard handed a membership card and a pin to Memphis, who was standing beside him, puffing out his chest with pride:

"Come, pin this on me. Presenting the great maestro of the flesh-toned piano, Teacher Eisen!"

Memphis took the pin and began securing it to Richard's clothes.

Richard kept offering adjustments: "It's crooked, crooked! How can you be so clumsy? Aren't we formation masters supposed to care most about details and symmetry?"

"Understood," Memphis nodded, continuing to fiddle and adjust.

Witnessing this scene, Karen could only try to make an excuse on Richard's behalf: "This must have been from back when you were reckless and ignorant. Don't use your father's name anymore; you already learned your lesson last time."

Karen wanted to attribute this to the era before "Young Master Eisen" had been beaten, reasoning that since he had already paid the price, the matter could rest.

"It really isn't. My father gave me a savage thrashing over the pastry shop incident, and on the very first day I could walk after recovering from my injuries, I rushed straight to this club to register under his name."

Richard ran his right hand through his hair, resting his left hand on his hip:

"Just like the great God of Order recorded in the 'Light of Order' who broke away from the Light Faction, since we are followers of Order, we ought to possess that kind of rebellious spirit!

What do you think, Karen?"

Karen offered no response.

Richard turned his gaze back to Memphis: "Memphis, what do you think?"

Memphis replied, "Just take care that your father does not discover it again."

"What is there to fear? It is not as if he could truly beat me to death, haha!"

Memphis nodded:

"You speak the absolute truth."