Chapter 760: The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Grease

Chapter 760: The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Grease

"Karen, take a look at this?"

Miguel handed the report he had personally revised to Karen; once submitted, this document would become the "original version" of the event.

Karen reached out to accept it and began leafing through the pages.

Well, it was adapted quite beautifully. Karen truly felt it a pity that Secretary-General Miguel didn't become a director making religious films.

From the preparations to the buildup, and then to the occurrence and the aftermath, the entire text reflected the unity and cooperation of the Whip of Order here—it wasn't just that everyone had dipped a toe in, they hadn't left a gap even the width of a toe.

However, this also perfectly solved Karen's problem of "laundering merits."

Miguel watched the changes in Karen's expression, feeling a bit uneasy and guilty in his heart.

He had previously pulled strings for Karen, but turning around to collect the debt right after offering patronage was an undeniably ugly way to handle things; of course, the main reason was that this man had achieved his merits far too rapidly.

"An excellent report, Secretary-General. You've worked hard."

"Regional Director Karen, do you have any suggestions?"

"None. I will sign my name to this report. Let me sign and seal it right now."

"All right, thank you."

"Between us, there's no need for that."

Because, I am still the one making the bigger profit; going forward, Neo's militia regiment could go about robbing graves, smuggling, and plundering, and the laundering of vouchers would be digested or even endorsed by the Whip of Order.

Originally, some caution was needed regarding the impact of this matter. Karen could suppress things for now, but there was a limit to how much pressure he could take. Now, it was perfect; even if someone discovered it in the future, they probably wouldn't dare report or block it, because to the outside world, it wouldn't look like the Regional Director of York City was doing this—the Whip-Bearer was behind it.

And the one behind the Whip-Bearer was the High Priest, so rounding it up... the plundering and grave-robbing activities that originally belonged to the York City Region suddenly became masterminded by the High Priest behind the scenes. It might even be interpreted and elevated to the height of excavating the very foundations of the Desert God Sect. Not only would no one block or report it, but they would instead actively step up to cooperate.

After finishing this, Miguel departed. He needed to go to the educational administration building to teleport back to the Dingle Region, to personally present the report to the Whip-Bearer and provide an accompanying oral briefing.

In truth, using a communication array was more efficient, but every individual had a need to show their worth.

However, Miguel's departure left Dana and Augie behind at Karen's place.

Karen hadn't originally intended to return to the dormitory to sleep tonight, as there was a lounge in his office anyway, but at seven o'clock in the evening, Leon came in and presented a report to him.

This report had been forwarded by the Whip of Order from another region; they had detected an assassin guild organization there that was plotting an assassination attempt against Karen.

Well, this wasn't actually a major issue. Karen had long since grown used to it anyway. In the past, such a report wouldn't even be brought before Karen, as Wick and the others would handle it themselves.

But this time it was more specific and detailed, because the Director of the Whip of Order from the neighboring region who forwarded this report happened to be one of the colleagues Karen had rescued from the desert.

This person had spent significant effort sending undercover agents to investigate, and they had actually managed to unearth the clues. The guild organization was just a storefront, acting as a middleman of sorts, and within the assassin industry, this middleman was on the lower end. However, there was another assassin guild behind it that issued the tasks, which was of a higher tier.

Yes, an intermediary issuing tasks to another intermediary was also for the sake of "laundering," to wash away connections and suspicion.

Furthermore, behind that next assassin guild, there should be yet another intermediary...

No wonder most of those sent to assassinate him were detected and intercepted in advance, while the small fraction that actually moved against him in reality were very easy to deal with.

With layer upon layer of outsourcing and subcontracting, the true mastermind who wanted him dead might have given a hundred thousand points coupons, but by the time it reached the hands of the actual assassin, would there even be three thousand?

Three thousand points coupons—even Neo, when standing on the terrace, wouldn't spare it a second glance.

Karen originally intended to set the report down and write a letter of thanks to that regional director next door, but he hesitated for a moment and smiled:

"Since I have nothing to do right now anyway."

Leon asked, "Director, are you planning to..."

"Since the location coordinates have been found, let's go pay them a visit. It saves them the effort of racking their brains on how to assassinate me. I'll go to their door to meet them."

"Director, I'll go mobilize the personnel right away."

"No need. The militia regiment has drawn heavily on the region's manpower. Although the specific work isn't being delayed right now, everyone's holidays have basically been canceled. No need to call people; we happen to have one at home."

Karen admitted that he was a bit stimulated by the victory report Neo sent today. Thinking about how happily Neo was leading a regiment out in the desert while he himself had been sitting in an office lately, attending meetings that never seemed to end, he felt a bit unbalanced after all. He needed to find a way to make up for it; the pressures of life required self-regulation.

In addition, for a piece of merit, one always had to find a way to maximize its value as much as possible. Being too obedient wasn't good; the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

"Are you planning to take action personally?"

"Yes. Inform Alfred and Wick. You all have been very busy lately as well; let's go out for a little team-building."

"Understood. I'll go right away."

Karen returned to the dormitory and opened the door. Augie, wearing a long dress, was reclining on the sofa, revealing her voluptuous thighs. The legs of a Frost Dragon were like snow, exceedingly fair.

Seeing Karen enter, Augie opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again.

"You're back."

Little Conna happened to walk out of the bathroom. She had just woken up and finished washing, and she asked:

"Have you eaten a late-night snack yet? I'll pick up some pills for you to eat."

"No need. Go change your clothes, we're going out to eat."

Promptly, Karen walked over to Augie and looked down at her.

Augie asked, "Need me to help with something?"

This Frost Dragon was always highly sensitive and shrewd when it came to minor matters; back then, she had even tried to use Lasma's hands to break the seal on her body to gain freedom. But when it came to major affairs, she was exceedingly dull and naive. That night, Lasma had seen through her thoughts with a single glance and thrashed her until her skin was split and her flesh torn.

"Someone wants to assassinate a Regional Director of the Whip of Order. As a dragon raised by the Whip of Order, you are now ordered to rescue him."

Augie blinked and asked, "Which director is being assassinated?"

"Me."

"You?" Augie sat up. "You're clearly standing right here perfectly fine. So you want to call on me to carry you to kill people, right? And you call this asking for help!"

"I have suffered an assassin's curse and am currently at a critical juncture."

Augie: "..."

Karen waved his hand and urged, "Move out."

Augie asked, somewhat frantically, "It's obviously such a simple thing, why can't you just try to beg me a little?"

"I can command you, why should I beg you?"

"But this makes me feel very uncomfortable."

"As long as I feel comfortable, that's fine."

Little Conna finished changing her clothes, and when it was time to head out, Dana followed them out as well.

Karen looked at her and said, "I didn't call for you."

"But I'll be scared staying in the house by myself."

"Heh."

It wasn't that the willful and pampered adopted daughter of the High Priest had changed; what had changed was Karen's status.

Downstairs at the dormitory, Karen met up with Alfred, Wick, and Leon.

This was a team-building activity organized on a whim, and in the middle of the night at that.

Wick felt somewhat helpless; his dark circles were very heavy lately, and there was still a lot of backlogged work in the office, but he had no choice but to obey the summons from the Regional Director.

Alfred not only wore a smile on his face, but he had also gone out of his way to shoulder a peanut-tube radio.

This was meant to evoke the tender memories of that night when old Master Dis had taken them out to kill;

he remembered how he and his young master, moving in sync with the rhythm of the radio music, had even shared a dance.

Thus, how could Dariwenluo ever hope to challenge Alfred's status? Not only was Alfred remarkably excellent and responsible in his work, but he also managed to nurture interpersonal bonds; in the fierce battle for the mural placement, Uncle Fu would forever and firmly occupy the background of the first frame.

Leon, on the other hand, appeared somewhat agitated. Earlier in Karen's office, his expression had been perfectly normal, but now he bore the look of someone harboring a deep and bitter grudge; indeed, it was the assassins he loathed above all else.

Karen delivered a brief address for tonight's team-building activity:

"The night is limited; let us focus on efficiency."

The first scene was set in a group-rental hostel, converted from a self-built house, in the suburbs of York City.

The background of this hostel was quite unusual. It only accommodated people from the church circles, serving as an extension of the local district's black market. Before going to the desert, Neo had led a sweep of the black market according to Karen's wishes, which meant the local black market had still not recovered its vitality, and the business of this group-rental hostel had declined along with it.

Karen and his companions stepped into the hostel and approached the front desk.

Behind the counter sat a heavily made-up, middle-aged woman holding a slender cigarette between her fingers. Her feet were resting on the lap of a young man beside her, and even though "guests" had arrived, she showed absolutely no intention of restraining herself.

Karen wore a mask on his face. Here, wearing a mask was entirely normal; many who stayed in this place were individuals with unclean histories.

Curious, the woman asked, "You don't look like you're here to stay. Are you here to buy information, or do you want to move some goods?"

Alfred offered a polite smile. "Fire inspection."

The woman froze. "..."

"Give me the guest registry."

The woman let out two dry chuckles, while the young man beside her immediately stood up, pointing a finger at Alfred as he barked, "Are you joking, or did you come here looking for trouble on purpose?"

As he spoke, fangs sprouted from the corners of his mouth, and his skin began to take on a sickly, unhealthy pallor.

This was a blood-sucking aberration. Fresh blood stains still lingered on his fangs, perhaps from recently consuming purchased plasma, or perhaps from a fresh harvest he had just reaped.

In a metropolis as vast as York City, no one knew how many vagrants died in the sewers every day. In truth, the disappearance of too many people never drew any notice. The reason Inquisitor Dark had been credited with a merit last time was precisely because he had discovered unusual marks on the corpses of vagrants, which was truly a rare achievement; of course, it was also because the angel that the Abyss Godskin Church wished to resurrect had rather particular tastes, insisting on consuming the blood of artists, and their subcontracting had created a flaw.

In the next instant, the young man clutched his own neck with both hands, ten long fingernails piercing into his flesh, before he began to twist and tear. Very quickly, the thick, dark blood of the blood-sucking aberration spilled onto the woman's thighs.

With a heavy thud, the young aberration collapsed, dying in an extraordinarily bizarre manner.

The faint crimson tint faded from Alfred's eyes as he spoke to the woman: "The registry."

"Right away!"

The woman instantly produced the logbook. Alfred flipped through it rapidly and called out three room numbers.

Leon and Vic went straight upstairs. Dana hesitated for a moment before following them up, while Auggie sighed; her responsibility was to protect Dana, so she could only go up with them.

Before long, accompanied by the screams drifting down from above, they quickly descended.

The occupants of those three rooms were the fellows who were about to launch an assassination against Karen; when the strike occurred, it had naturally disturbed the neighboring tenants.

The others were fine, having merely dealt with a few fools who dared to assassinate a District Head of the Whiplash of Order for a few thousand coupons, but Leon's hands were covered in blood, and bloodstains were splattered across his face.

Alfred pulled out a handkerchief, wiped Leon's face for him, and said with a smile, "Are you trying to enhance our sense of immersion?"

Leon nodded vigorously. "I couldn't control myself."

"There is no need to control it. Team-building is meant for releasing work pressure."

"Thank you, Mr. Alfred."

Leon reached out, intending to take the handkerchief to wipe his hands, but Alfred tucked it away. Wiping a bit of blood from the face meant it could still be washed and reused, but with so much blood from the hands on it, this handkerchief would have to be thrown away.

After walking out of the hostel, the group entered a nearby secret teleportation array point of the Whiplash of Order. That was how they had come earlier, in order to save time.

After teleporting to the Education Administration Building, according to their reservation, they were teleported to another large district without any delay, and from that district, they teleported again to a remote location below.

They were utilizing Karen's authority as District Head, so they arrived and left instantly without any need to wait.

Back then, Dis had forcibly borrowed the teleportation array of the Church of Order; now, Karen was operating completely on public funds.

The next target was the guild that had posted the mission. This guild was located in a small town, and several layers of isolation arrays had been set up on the road into the town, so ordinary people would not drive in.

When Karen entered, he took the opportunity to alter the array at the entrance, making it very difficult for the people inside to leave for the time being.

Having done this, he clapped his hands and said, "Faster, let's try to head to the next place early."

Aside from Karen, everyone else moved. Little Conna transformed into a bone dragon; her body, over a hundred meters long, instantly crushed the guild building. With another movement, she crushed the hotel, and then she began to swing her dragon tail and swat her dragon claws at anyone she saw, creating one pool of minced meat after another.

They were not facing a structured army, and the level of this guild was very low, so the relevant staff and assassins here were generally only at the level of low-ranked priests. A bone dragon like Little Conna was simply a god of slaughter here.

Leon remained ecstatic, charging in with wild howling as he killed. Vic and Alfred even had to keep an eye on him, deeply afraid that this fellow might inadvertently be ambushed by someone.

Miss Dana had also entered the zone. She truly had not anticipated this hidden program tonight, which was something she had never had the chance to experience when growing up with her uncles before, so she killed with great relish, with Auggie watching over her from the side.

The time came, and Karen called a halt. There were bound to be living targets hiding away, but Karen did not intend to waste time searching meticulously.

When assassins dared to accept a mission to assassinate a District Head, and when this guild dared to distribute this assassination mission, they had in fact already chosen their own ending.

Even if Karen did not come today, the next day, the various large districts that had organized the relevant personnel would also dispatch Whiplash of Order squads to carry out a cleanup.

The next guild was slightly larger and of a higher grade, situated within a canyon.

Karen came to the top, personally utilizing spells to create fireballs that rained downward. The Fire of Order quickly blanketed the area, and those who attempted to resist or flee encountered the hunting and slaughter of the others below. Auggie officially joined the battle, though she did not transform into her dragon form like Little Conna; instead, in her human form, every punch and kick she delivered resulted in a mist of blood.

After quickly processing this place, they transferred again via the teleportation array.

It was estimated that when the relevant heads of the various districts went to work at dawn, they would likely see a special circumstance delivered to their desks, which was that District Head Karen of the York City District was utilizing the teleportation arrays for frequent and rapid transfers.

The guild that followed could truly be considered somewhat high-grade. It was located on an island, and it did not exist in isolation; the island nominally belonged to the sphere of influence of a small church.

"Transform into a dragon," Karen said to Auggie.

Auggie reminded him, "Do you know what it means for my true form to be revealed here?"

"I know."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure."

"As long as you are happy."

Auggie spread her arms and transformed into a massive frost dragon. Karen and the others stepped onto her back, and she took flight, approaching that island from the night sky.

"The stupid dragon is really huge," Little Conna said as she sat on the dragon's back, her hands stroking a dragon scale.

"When you reach adulthood, you will be even larger than her," Karen smiled as he patted Little Conna's head.

Dana pointed at the figures of flying demonic beasts appearing in the distance, reminding him, "Karen, the outside world has already noticed Sister Auggie's presence. They might mistake it for the personal arrival of the Whip-Wielder."

"Mhm."

"Aren't you worried about making a mistake?" Dana asked.

"My recent performance has been too good, and it isn't appropriate to always be praised. Sometimes, being scolded for making a mistake can actually deepen the relationship instead."

"This..." Dana did not quite understand.

Below, an old man riding a giant seagull flew up. From a great distance away, he changed his posture from sitting to kneeling.

He was the Hierophant of this small church, and he mistakenly believed that the person arriving was the Whip-Wielder of the Church of Order.

The old man shouted with an amplifying spell:

"Listening to the teachings of Order!"

Alfred released a black crow, which flew down toward the Gull. Inscribed upon it was the name of that assassin guild, bearing a singular command: before dawn, leave none alive.

The old man read the crow's message, then immediately turned and descended.

Before long, the sounds of slaughter and the brilliant, firework-like displays of arcane arts echoed from the island below.

While Karen continued to admire the scenery beneath them, Alfred received an influx of black crows and other missives. He stepped forward to report to Karen:

"Young Master, members of the nearby Order Districts are rushing here to request task assignments, and other surrounding orthodox factions are inquiring if their services are required to assist."

"Heh, Alfred, you see? Driving the leader's car makes getting things done so much easier."

...

The High Whipper had just concluded the morning conference in the administrative temple. During the meeting, he received commendation from the High Priest. To the upper echelons of the Church of Order, this could not be considered a monumental achievement, but for the Whip of Order, obtaining immediate results right after acquiring new authority was an excellent beginning, facilitating the Whip's continued expansion of its sphere of power.

Upon returning to his office, the High Whipper lit a cigar.

Miguel, who had returned to complete his report, presented a new document detailing the events that had unfolded just last night. As the High Whipper reviewed it, Miguel spoke up:

"High Whipper, he actually dared to command Augie to carry out a vendetta under your identity. He truly is growing blind with arrogance, it is simply..."

"Ah."

The High Whipper raised his hand to cut Miguel off, smiling.

"He is a young man, after all. It is inevitable, nothing to make a fuss about."

Miguel said, "Then should I issue an official reprimand to him in the name of headquarters?"

The High Whipper nodded, but then shook his head.

He said:

"Forget it, no need for an official letter. Call him here; I will speak to him in person."