"You have an opportunity to meet His Holiness the Pope."
Barton heard a man in a dark blue bishop's robe speak to him.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make out the other person's face clearly; it seemed as if the face was covered by a hazy, gray mist.
Of course, none of this matters. For Barton, a devout believer, being able to meet His Mandated Punisher on earth was the most glorious thing in his life.
This made him so excited that he was speechless. His body trembled slightly as he followed the bishop step by step into the main hall.
Barton couldn't describe the hall in detail either, only that it was magnificent and splendid, giving people a great sense of oppression, which made him obediently lower his head.
Finally, he arrived at the steps.
At that moment, he seemed to have received permission and subconsciously raised his head.
Then he saw a large golden retriever.
The dog, dressed in a magnificent, deep blue robe like a curtain and wearing a triple crown inlaid with various jewels, sat on a huge throne, silently gazing at itself.
"..." Barton was stunned.
"This... this is His Holiness the Pope?" Barton was both shocked and panicked, a strong sense of fear welling up inside him.
He suddenly opened his eyes and saw the Dawn illuminating the ceiling.
Huff, huff... Barton sat up, breathing softly, trying to shake off the influence of the dream as quickly as possible.
"What happened?" His wife noticed something was wrong and sat up straight.
Barton shook his head:
"A nightmare."
He did not tell his wife the truth: he had dreamt that His Holiness the Pope was a large golden dog.
He bet his wife would say with a look of horror:
How could you have such blasphemous thoughts?
At that point, all he could do was shrug and say:
"Just kidding."
Don't bring your worries into your family life; this is a paradise for relaxation... Besides, women find it hard to understand more profound issues; their strength lies in their emotional thinking and loving nature... Barton stopped dwelling on his dream, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
After having breakfast and kissing his wife and children goodbye, he left his residence and took a trolleyless public carriage to his workplace on the outskirts of the city.
He works for the Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation and earns a substantial salary, placing him in the middle class in a place like City of Stoen, the capital of East Chester County.
Along the way, Barton, bored, began to look around at the streets outside.
Because it was not directly affected by the previous war, City of Stoen still retains its original prosperity, with carriages, bicycles, pedestrians and Wild Dog coming and going, lively and noisy.
Barton was used to such scenes and wouldn't normally feel anything, but last night's dream made him uneasy every time he saw a Wild Dog, as if it were the Pope incarnate and he needed to bow in respect.
"By the Storm above, accept my confession." Barton raised his right hand, made a fist, and lightly tapped his left chest.
After a while, he arrived at the " Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation," greeted his colleagues, and went into his office.
After hanging up his hat and coat, Barton relaxed and leisurely prepared some black tea with some unusual herbs for himself. He was approaching middle age, and his energy was declining in all aspects. He always hoped to make up for his health in a simple and painless way.
After making some black tea, Barton picked up a few newspapers from his desk, intending to calm himself down before starting work.
" Backlund's economic situation improved significantly last quarter..."
"A new pirate known as the Queen of Stars has joined the Sonia Sea and the Raging Sea..."
"Discussions on fruit trade in Desi Bay..."
After leisurely finishing reading the newspaper, Barton took a sip of red tea and officially began his work.
"A letter from Furnar?" While examining the documents on the table, Barton found a letter from an old friend.
He was an Archaeologist who worked closely with the Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation.
Barton immediately picked up the letter opener, took out the letter, and began to read it carefully:
My dear friend:
"My students and I discovered some interesting ruins in the mountains of West Vilas County, which may have originated from the remains of Quaternary inhabitants..."
"In that part of history that we don't yet fully understand, they left the city for various reasons, entered the mountains and forests, ceased to interact with reality, and existed in the form of tribal groups..."
"They may still be holding onto something, but it has long been swallowed up by time, leaving only dilapidated buildings and corpses..."
"My students and I will be conducting a protective excavation here, hoping to find more useful artifacts that can help us reconstruct parts of Quaternary history. I wonder if your Foundation would be interested in this?"
"... Here, I solemnly invite you to send a team to verify the authenticity and effectiveness of our work..."
Going to the mountains... The first things that came to Barton's mind were not artifacts and history, but buzzing mosquitoes, damp and dark environments, and campsites lurking in the shadows of wild animals.
He shook his head, picked up a pen and paper, and prepared to draft a document based on the letter and submit it.