Chapter 22

72

A day in the life of "Edward Vaughan."

I woke up in my lavish, luxurious Intis-style bed and stared at the layers of canopy overhead for several minutes. All the furniture had been with me for over a century; I could picture every carved line on the bedposts with my eyes closed. Whenever my ally and Richard saw it, they looked as though they wanted to pry off a few ivory and gemstone ornaments, or secretly carry off a gold-inlaid chair or carved drawer to auction.

I went to sleep at eleven sharp every night, drank a glass of warm water before bed, and got up at eight in the morning. Roselle and Adela both praised me for having humanity.

I began working. I also moved my ally over beside me.

Ever since He arrived, He could take some of the ledger-reading off my hands. He looked very unhappy, but I was very happy.

I neatly stacked the monthly bills from the various organizations and the Aurora Order's expenditure report for the week, all freshly delivered by sacrifice, in His baby carriage. He rolled His eyes and reluctantly pulled a ledger from the middle to read. At the end of it was an enormous, blood-red stamp:

"Losses" this month: two hundred and twenty pounds, five soli, and eight pence.

My ally's pupils trembled. This month's losses amounted to the cost of two outfits for me, undoubtedly adding insult to injury for the already impoverished Aurora Order. But He had accepted it all and continued searching through the other reports.

"Funding request: two intelligence agents in Awwa County inadvertently left behind incorrect identification documents while passing on information and were subsequently arrested as Intis spies. The paperwork has been prepared. Four hundred pounds in total are required for bail.

Annotation: no money. Tell them to break out themselves."

"Report: a dispute with a Highlander gang during charity work in Pritz Harbor resulted in five deaths and ten injuries. The aftermath has been dealt with.

Annotation: well done. Killing is fine; don't damage the buildings."

"Report: His Excellency the Believer deliberately caused trouble and refused to participate in charity work in Backlund's East Borough. He has now been sent back to headquarters to recuperate."

"Report: Oracle Mr. A passed his merit assessment and qualified for advancement. He personally stated, 'I still wish to advance along my own pathway. This is the road closest to the Lord,' rejecting advancement through adjacent pathways. The Order currently has no spare Sequence 4 characteristics. Should we issue missions to search for the relevant potion ingredients?"

My ally got busy, issuing divine revelations one moment and wearing a mask of anguish over the bills the next. Miss Fors Wall's manuscript would not arrive for my review until the afternoon, so I could ease off on composing the opera's music. Around noon, I put on my overcoat and leisurely went out to buy ingredients and bread.

I ran into a gentleman from a law firm on another street that worked with the editorial office. He greeted me, and I greeted him.

Passing through Backlund's East Borough, I took a look at the people's despair and suffering. I recalled the proposal for cooperation the Demoness Sect had sent earlier. The details involved helping a senior member digest her potion and complete a ritual, which would take place in the East Borough and might cause a large-scale catastrophe. Well, I had to admit that I liked the catastrophes brought by Demonesses and Hunters, but I did not like the deaths that followed. If she could prolong the catastrophe and the process of dying indefinitely, I would be more interested.

Their proposed terms, however, were to help my ally bring about the Descent of the True Creator. Now that the Aurora Order had successfully brought about His Descent, cooperation was naturally unnecessary. As for whether they would revise the terms and proceed, that was not something I needed to think about.

This was a borough where suffering and hope intertwined, a blind spot in the gods' sight, a breeding ground for cults and extreme emotions.

Most of the people living here would sell anything for a mouthful of bread. Life and souls were the cheapest commodities; labor was what held the most value. I remembered that I should have met the person from the Pilgrimage Church responsible for this area, but that had probably been more than twenty years ago.

Noon. I went home to cook. My ally firmly refused to maintain His humanity this way.

He was only Sequence 8. He did not get a say.

I built my happiness on His suffering, which was good. After a brief midday rest, I took my completed score and headed out early to prepare for my meeting with Miss Fors sometime after three.

I decided to spend the intervening time at my favorite club. It had all sorts of places to relax and plenty of afternoon teas to choose from, as well as a professional, fully equipped ensemble to help me rehearse beforehand—ever since the Descent of the True Creator, I had also been going there more often to get food to take home. If entry had not been restricted to members, I would have very much liked Miss Fors to come talk with me there.

Someone else greeted me. I returned a nod and a smile.

After a brief conversation, I learned that the front desk was processing a new member's registration. The lady who had greeted me turned out to be an admirer of my work, and she visited the Quelaag Club every week.

The new member seemed to be a detective. He paid no attention to me, and I paid no attention to him. With practiced ease, the attendant arranged a private reading room with a piano for me and notified the resident ensemble to come rehearse.

The rehearsal went very smoothly.

At three in the afternoon, I met Miss Fors at the Old Place. We had a delightful conversation, and I complimented her exquisite smoky makeup.

-Smoky makeup was a style Roselle had invented. It made the eyes look deeper-set and gave the features greater definition, and had once been all the rage in Intis.

During our conversation, I also asked about the Abraham Family. Miss Fors knew nothing about them and was very interested in the Fourth Epoch secrets revealed in my passing remarks. It seemed she had obtained the Bracelet by chance and become an "Apprentice" Beyonder.

The attraction between her Bracelet and the Sealed Artifact I had been carrying at the time had been so strong that it had to be a product of the Abraham Family, or at the very least something left behind by someone closely associated with them. Since Miss Fors had used it, she would most likely hear the cries of "Bethel Abraham," who was under the Mother Goddess of Depravity's control, during the full moon.

But I had no direct conflict of interests with the Mother Goddess of Depravity. There was no reason for me to help the Abraham Family, or even Mr. Door, just to stop Her. In fact, if the Mother Goddess of Depravity gained the upper hand, the chances of tearing open the seal and reclaiming the Sefirah sooner would increase. It would be even better if She could suppress the Mother Tree of Desire along the way.

She had made good progress. Although her handwriting grew increasingly sloppy toward the end, the plot and dialogue were much better than in the previous two drafts. Dialogue in a play was more exaggerated, ornate, and obscure than dialogue in a novel, so it was good that she had made the transition smoothly-I was very satisfied. It meant I could complete my work without trouble, so I paid her part of her fee in advance as encouragement.

Everyone was happy.

I was about to go home to drop off the manuscript and score, but my ally told me to visit the Aurora Order. I asked Him what for. He said Mr. A had received a major commission, but the specifics were unclear and required a detailed explanation.

"A bounty to assassinate the Intis ambassador. I don't know the exact details, but the reward is ten thousand pounds."

73

Mr. A sat silently in the underground church, his eyes lowered as he prayed softly. Saint Tenebrous, seated one place away from him, was equally silent, pondering the possible implications behind the mission.

"Internal strife among the nobility? Or does Loen intend to provoke a war with Intis this way?" Kisma muttered uncertainly. "But this approach is far too direct, too obvious. And once the mission is completed, we will inevitably face fierce retaliation from the four churches and the militaries of both countries. You did well. The risks we're taking warrant a higher reward, especially at this crucial moment when the Lord has returned to the earth."

"Praise the Lord," Mr. A recited devoutly.

"Praise the Lord." Kisma also closed his eyes and recited silently.

After several seconds of silence in the underground church, Mr. A spoke first. "I intend to assassinate Ambassador Beckland tonight. As it happens, he is holding a ball at his home for certain reasons, which gives me a good opportunity to slip inside. To ensure a swift resolution, I pray for your assistance, Saint."

"No problem. Activate the ability of the 'Scribe' you are Grazing. Our cooperation with the Demoness Sect has stalled; otherwise, we could use this opportunity to obtain some of their abilities as well. Disease and curses are quite useful."

With that, the two sealed off the underground church. Mr. A used "Record," while Kisma transformed into a Black Knight several meters tall, clad in armor that seemed forged from shadows. Wielding a greatsword, he demonstrated the most basic yet most powerful slashing technique over and over. Only after more than twenty failures did Mr. A finally succeed in recording a Saint-level leaping slash.

"For now, your offensive power seems sufficient, but you lack an ability to restrain the target." Kisma returned to human form and leafed through Mr. A's "notes," considering them carefully. "You could use a Lawyer Pathway ability, Bribe or Distortion, to immobilize him temporarily, but after switching, you would have to face the danger of the ambassador's bodyguards attacking you en masse..."

"I could help you. For instance, with the Language of Foulness: 'Imprisonment.'"

A voice whose tone always carried a devilish allure came from behind them. The Devil stepped out of a simulated "Abyss" and greeted the two with a smile. "Perhaps you need more direct assistance? I don't know what level of power you can Record, but 'Death' should be enough to kill the ambassador and every living thing in the venue. Suitable for an assassination."

"Thank you for your kindness. Our objective is merely the death of one ambassador, not the lives of every noble and wealthy merchant present. That would drag in all the powers behind them." Before Mr. A could speak, Kisma answered immediately. "Angel-level Beyonder abilities are far too precious. Once Recorded, they would probably produce power on the level of a top Saint. Perhaps what we need is a spell of yours related to 'Imprisonment.'"

"Chaos and despair are the true nature of everything. Very well. This is my ally's wish. I merely came to see whether you needed help."

The Abyss Angel did not mind being refused. His temper was always so unimaginably good that it made people all the more reluctant to slight Him, filling them with an indescribable fear:

"Our followers have been cooperating closely of late. I don't mind doing a few more small favors for my ally's envoy. I can give you both 'Death' and 'Imprisonment.' If you have any other Devil Pathway abilities Recorded, I may be able to raise them to Saint level by infusing them with spirituality."

Overjoyed, Mr. A immediately began Grazing the Scribe. After more than an hour of repeated attempts, he finally succeeded in Recording the abilities. He had already contacted someone who would assist him: a Timber Merchant invited to the ball. His entire family happened to be devout followers of the Lord-when the time came, Mr. A would hide inside the body of the daughter accompanying him. The girl would use her beauty to entice the ambassador into being alone with her, and he would seize the opportunity to assassinate him.

This devout, admirable girl was certain to die. The Aurora Order would therefore reward and favor this family for their sacrifice to the Lord, helping them listen to His sacred teachings, become Beyonders, and change their names to escape the ensuing danger.

After Mr. A left, Saint Tenebrous asked, "Do you think we need to secretly investigate whoever posted the bounty?"

"I don't think so." Edward was unconcerned. "Now is the time to pull back our forces and reorganize internally. There's no need for complications. Besides, the person behind this may not let you trace his whereabouts. Killing a few bounty hunters connected to it would only cut off a source of income. There's no point."

"I understand. Also, His Excellency the Believer refuses to comply with arrangements, and his reputation within the Order is growing worse by the day. Do you need me to help mediate?"

"No need for that either," He said. "I'll handle this. If he tries anything or runs away, tell me directly."

"Yes. There is one last matter," Kisma said. "A murder was discovered somewhere in the East Borough. The killer hollowed out the victim's internal organs. We suspect that a 'Devil' is operating secretly in Backlund."

"...Now that is interesting."

The Abyss Angel stroked His chin and gave an intrigued smile. "Keep an eye out for me. Though with the aggregation of extraordinary characteristics, they'll run into me sooner or later... Let me see which family is sending me a snack."

TBC

Daily updates are seriously exhausting! I really want to slack off!

*The Three Great Devil Families seeing Edward is like Jacob seeing Amon.

*Edward every time he goes out: imposing and brimming with confidence. In reality, he doesn't recognize a single person greeting him. Who are you, who are you, and who are you.jpg