For the Empire

Mark was truly bewildered. He had genuinely never heard of the New Church.

It sounded ridiculous. The New Church headquarters was right in Dawn Community, yet he, the director, had never even heard its name.

If it was a terrorist organization, it might have already caused serious trouble.

That was why privilege was always the most direct enemy of order. No amount of embellishment could change that.

Of course, Mark knew this was not something a small fry like him needed to worry about.

Right now, he had to face one of those important figures who enjoyed such privileges.

Although the power of the Empire's nobility had been greatly weakened, it was still beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

Only Imperial officials like Mark could sense a little of it.

The most obvious example was that Spaceport immigration slots were so scarce, yet half of those who received them had noble blood within three generations.

With a nervous heart, Mark met Michel.

He had imagined many versions of Michel, naturally including the kind who treated talented commoners with courtesy.

But experiencing it in person felt different.

Michel showed no lofty airs at all. When Mark saw him, he was holding a piece of roasted meat and eating heartily.

"Director Mark, I'm terribly sorry I didn't wait for you. I was simply too hungry."

Eating before his guest arrived was clearly very rude, yet Michel held out the roasted meat without caring about the grease on his hands. He was utterly sincere. "Help yourself. We'll talk after we eat."

Mark saw that the others were also eating with great gusto. Some were trainees like his younger brother, still dressed in their school uniforms.

The others looked like knights, the very scent of knighthood seemingly steeped into their bones.

For instance, there