It wasn't that we hadn't dealt with him—it was that he was about to deal with us...
Faced with the burly man's rebuke, Libo could not help letting out a breath.
That damned Blind Witch—she was dead, yet she had left him with such a mess to clean up.
Just thinking of the ashes that had fallen upon the altar... and the terrifying power contained within them, Libo could not stop himself from trembling slightly.
Many followers of the God of First Cry had tried to clear away those ashes, only to suffer inexplicable burns.
It was only in the past couple of days that the ashes had cooled somewhat, but no one now dared use that altar again.
"Quintus, calm down, my friend." Cicero extended a hand, trying to soothe the burly, golden-haired man.
A fine layer of sweat had already formed on Cicero's forehead. He was genuinely worried about angering the man before him.
Ever since Quintus learned that Conor Guilliman had secretly adopted a son, he had become increasingly agitated. In this month alone, more than a dozen slaves had died at his hands.
In truth, even when he was not agitated, this bastard had never been a calm man. In his twenties, while serving in the military camp, he had fought more than ten soldiers who had revolted against his harsh training all by himself, personally killing four and crippling eight...
The nerves of this violent monster were now stretched to the limit. Cicero truly feared that, in a moment of irrationality, he would do something mad and ruin their plan completely.
"How do you expect me to calm down? Cicero, do you remember what you promised me?"
Quintus sat back down in his chair, his fists clenched tight, veins bulging across his savage, terrifying face.
"You should have followed my idea and killed him outright."
"The times are different now, Lord Quintus." Cicero took a deep breath. "Ten or twenty years ago, we could have found some street thugs and sent him to his death."
"But now, the times are different. The soldiers your uncle brought back fill every street and alley. Laser weapons have become standard military equipment. The entire city has been swept clean, drones fly overhead, and every scrap of information is sent back to the Cogitator in his office. We simply cannot find anyone to do it for us, and using our own people would inevitably expose us."
"The only option would have been to seek out the barbarians of Elyrium, but it is too late for that now."
Today was March 20th. In another two days, Marcus Guilliman's interview would begin.
As a teacher at the Rhetoric Academy, Cicero taught debate and politics, so he was also well versed in the art of stalling and passing the buck.
The first stage: claim that nothing had happened.
"I never expected Macragge to have such an outstanding grammar teacher, someone who could compete with me and even surpass me," Cicero said to Quintus.
The second stage: claim that perhaps something had happened, but that no action should have been taken.
"But at the time, we believed that he was, after all, merely an ordinary teacher. We had many gentler ways of dealing with him. There was no need to resort to extreme measures."
The third stage: claim that perhaps action should have been taken, but that there was nothing we could do.
"When we discovered that he might be a wizard, we did take action, but as you can see, we did not succeed."
The fourth stage: claim that action should have been taken then, but that it was too late now.
"As I just said, the recruitment begins in two days. Whatever we do now, it is already too late."
Cicero waved a hand as he spoke.
"The only option is for me personally to defeat Zhou Yun fairly and squarely."
"Perhaps he has a slight edge over me in the written test, but as Macragge's master of debate, I am confident that I can persuade your father with my eloquence."
Quintus raised his eyelids. "My father will not be testing you. That boy will come and test you himself."
That boy... Cicero raised his brows slightly. Wasn't that child only six or seven years old?
"Then you have even less to worry about. A child is easier to persuade than your father."
"Let us hope so. From what I hear, your competitor seems to have won quite a lot of money from you at the gambling tables." Quintus sneered.
Cicero's smile froze. That debt truly weighed on him.
He had always enjoyed indulgence and pleasure, and his expenses had always been high. He did not have much savings on hand, so even though that senator had stepped in to delay the due date and reduce some of the interest, the debt was still no small burden to him.
At that moment, there came a knock at the private room's door, and a waiter delivered a note.
Cicero took the note, and his expression changed abruptly.
"What happened?" Seeing Cicero's expression, Libo suddenly felt that something was wrong.
"Zhou Yun... he has come again." Cicero clenched the note tightly.
"Damn it!" Libo cursed.
"He comes often?" Quintus asked with a frown.
"Almost every day..." Cicero said with deep resentment.
"And? You simply let him come?" Quintus looked at Cicero and Libo with disdain. The two of them seemed as though Zhou Yun had scared them out of their wits.
Cicero and Libo exchanged a glance. Both remembered the fates of Tull and the Blind Witch.
"You go." Libo spoke before Cicero could. "Go find out what he wants."
"...Me?" Cicero sucked in a sharp breath.
"Think of your debts. Do not forget that I am your creditor." Libo patted Cicero on the back.
"Two fives, one three—big!" The casino dealer lifted the dice cup, and the gamblers present all cried out in surprise.
This was the thirteenth consecutive roll of thirteen. The people present even looked at Zhou Yun with reverence.
Zhou Yun casually pulled the chips he had won toward himself.
Recently, he had often come to this bathhouse to gamble, mainly for three purposes.
The first was that Zhou Yun desperately wanted to find a way to gather more faith. He had tried all sorts of methods, but none had yielded as much as when he burned the Blind Witch to death. He dearly wanted to recreate that situation, so he had come to provoke these followers of Slaanesh—but they had continued to ignore Zhou Yun. They were truly too cold.
The second purpose was that Cicero had been right. This was indeed a place frequented by many Macragge nobles, senators, and wealthy citizens. Zhou Yun had been silently reading their minds, obtaining much valuable information.
For instance, Lucretius had the greatest reputation within Macragge's wizard circles; the Broken Lighthouse Temple had recently been investigating Macragge's wizards, and Zhou Yun was also among those being investigated; and the Semoneta Church was not united within, as High Priest Tatius had always refused to accept the doctrine that the God of First Cry was Semuneta...
The third purpose was that these cultists possessed something Zhou Yun wanted...
"Cicero, my good brother!" When Zhou Yun saw Cicero appear at the turn of the stairs, he could not help raising a hand to greet him.
Cicero came down the stairs with a stiff expression.
Before you continue