“I have never seen this order.”
Theolan looked over the paper again.
The holy seal and spiritual feedback were both genuine.
But even he didn't know about that additional command.
“I'll take it back for verification.”
As he spoke, he slipped the command back into the waterproof paper bag and sealed it inside his evidence case.
Then, Theolan waved toward the door.
Several of the remaining ascetics immediately walked over.
Some examined Robert, while two others hoisted up the still-unconscious Elliot.
“Mr. Constantine.”
Theolan called out to Elias, pointing at the old man on the ground.
“Could you please remove the 【Sleep Spell】?”
“Not going to let him sleep a bit longer?”
Elias was somewhat reluctant.
Honestly, he wished Elliot would just sleep all the way back to the Ascetic Society.
This Lao-Deng talked way too much when awake.
If he suddenly pointed at him and shouted something like “There's something wrong with this guy,” all the ascetics on-site would look over.
At that point, whether he ran or not, it would look suspicious.
“No need.”
Theolan's lips suddenly curved slightly.
The smile was very faint, but it was definitely there.
Elias was startled.
“You actually know how to smile?”
“I always have.”
“Then why did you look like you were attending your own funeral earlier?”
“Perhaps it is because what you just said was indeed a bit humorous.”
Theolan evaluated earnestly.
Elias stared at him for a couple of seconds.
Oh, great.
It seemed he had actually corrupted this guy.
He raised his hand and severed the last thread of spirituality maintaining the 【Sleep Spell】.
Elliot's eyelids fluttered a few times, and he suddenly gasped for air.
“The boat...”
He had barely uttered a single word when the two ascetics hoisted him up from the ground.
“Take him back first.”
Theolan waved his hand.
Before Elliot could even steady his feet, he was dragged all the way to the carriage outside the relief shelter.
Elias watched him leave, then turned his gaze back to Theolan.
That smile just now made him feel somewhat uneasy.
This kid couldn't have actually heard what he was thinking, right?
An ascetic at Scale Three indeed had a spell called 【Detect Thoughts】 that could read someone's outermost thoughts.
And his reason for wanting Elliot to keep sleeping just now was clearly floating right on the surface.
Elias subconsciously touched the brim of his hat.
But on second thought, that didn't make sense.
If Theolan had truly read his mind and discovered his identity, wouldn't it have been much easier to just close the doors and arrest him? Why withdraw his men?
Besides, back on the boat, this guy had genuinely helped him preserve those one hundred and thirty-six memories.
Surely the Ascetic Society wouldn't use half a relief shelter to put on a play just to capture a single free transcendent?
“Since things here are settled, I have other matters to attend to.”
Elias said as he observed Theolan's reaction.
“I won't overstay my welcome.”
“Alright.”
Theolan simply nodded.
He didn't try to stop him.
He didn't even ask a single extra question.
On the surface, Elias remained calm, but he was no less vigilant in his heart.
What these people loved most was making you believe you were already safe.
He turned and walked toward Dr. Hall.
“Could you please do the final sign-off for me?”
“Didn't I already sign it earlier?”
Dr. Hall looked at the document in confusion.
“What you signed earlier was the completion column for Phase Three.”
Elias flipped to the last page.
“There is still a spiritual sign-off here.”
The Society of Freemen used this column to confirm that the client was still alive and indeed willing to pay the reward.
As for why such a rule existed, the reason wasn't hard to guess.
After all, incidents where free investigators resolved an anomaly but casually disposed of their client as well had probably actually happened in the past.
Dr. Hall didn't ask any questions.
She pressed her finger to the end of the document, writing her name with her spirituality.
The ink glowed with a faint white light before being absorbed by the paper.
“The commission fee has already been deposited at the Society of Freemen.”
“They will settle it once they verify the signature.”
“Thank you very much.”
Elias took the document and carefully tucked it inside his trench coat.
Only at this moment did the one thousand two hundred gold crowns truly grow half a leg and begin walking toward his pocket.
As for the other half, it would depend on whether he could safely get his hands on the money.
He nodded to the several transcendents in the relief shelter and then turned to leave.
A crowd was gathered in the street ahead.
Someone was standing on a wooden crate giving a speech, holding up a copy of 《Velen Industrial Post》 and loudly demanding to know on what basis Wayland could dock the lighthouse keepers' pay while simultaneously controlling the cannons of the Octowin.
On the other side, someone holding a relief voucher argued back, believing that currently only Wayland was willing to protect the port.
The two factions were arguing heatedly.
Nine out of ten onlookers wore hats.
Elias adjusted his derby hat and walked straight into the crowd.
Midnight was about to pass.
The hat's random disguise was ready to be used.
He first disconnected the appearance belonging to “John Constantine,” then reinjected his spirituality.
His face, shaded by the hat's brim, began to slowly squirm.
His blonde hair turned a grayish-brown, his beard grew rapidly, and the contours of his shoulders and back became unremarkable under the visual concealment.
Even the surface of his beige trench coat was covered by an inconspicuous layer of grayish-black light and shadow.
A few breaths later, Mr. Constantine had vanished.
Walking out from the other side of the crowd was merely a man of mediocre features and ordinary clothes, someone who would be hard to pick out if thrown among dockworkers.
In this era where everyone wore a hat, trying to spot a specific hat at a speech was no different from finding a specific grain of sand on a beach.
Elias did not look back.
He stepped onto a passing public carriage.
“Society of Freemen.”
“Right away!”
Only after the carriage had driven away from the street corner did he use the action of adjusting his collar to check his body inch by inch.
The inside of the hat's brim, the collar of the trench coat, the cuffs, the pant legs, the soles of his shoes.
No unfamiliar powders.
No extra symbols in his shadow.
Elias activated 【Moon Vision】 to observe behind him.
Within his vision, no spiritual threads stretched out from him, and no single carriage had followed him for two consecutive street corners.
It looked safe.
But only on the surface.
When the carriage was only two streets away from the Society of Freemen, Elias suddenly sat up straight.
What if the other party hadn't followed him at all?
What if the Ascetic Society had already sent someone to wait in the hall of the Society of Freemen to see who would claim the commission fee?
In that case, by going there now, wouldn't he be voluntarily putting his head back into the noose after going through all that trouble to shake off his tail?
“Hey, pal.”
Elias tapped on the wooden board in front of him.
“Change of route. Go to the back alley of the Society of Freemen.”
The driver looked back.
“The main entrance is closer.”
“I prefer the back door.”
“That's a rare preference.”
The driver shrugged and pulled the reins.
The carriage quickly turned into another street.
One side of the Society of Freemen connected to the mortal city, while the other linked to the Arcane Black Market.
Elias got off in the back alley, confirmed that high walls blocked the view from all sides, and immediately unfurled the 【Moonlight Veil】.
His presence rapidly diminished, and his figure slipped through the black market's side door, hugging the base of the wall.
The moment he entered that chaotic supernatural district, he immediately withdrew the veil.
Parading around the black market with a concealment spell active was no different from holding up a sign that read, “I'm hiding something.”
Elias didn't go deep, finding an unused cargo alcove near the entrance instead.
He pulled out the spiritual sign-off document, the piece of paper with the blank stamp, and a soul coin.
Then, he wrote a collection authorization on the paper.
“Go to the Society of Freemen and collect the commission fee on my behalf.”
“Standard delivery, one coin.”
“One thousand two hundred gold crowns. If even a single coin is missing, I'll consider it a job failure.”
The moment he finished speaking, three knocks sounded from the doorless wall beside him.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
A narrow rift opened silently.
The strange, half-human-tall messenger stepped out from within.
It still wore its faded dark blue uniform. There was no face beneath the hood, only a slowly rotating silver signpost.
The messenger first took the soul coin, then accepted the sign-off document and the collection authorization.
“Can you do it?”
Elias asked.
The silver signpost turned toward him and paused for a breath.
Then, the messenger turned and walked back into the rift.
It didn't say a single word.
“Fine.”
Elias watched the wall close up.
“Silence is golden. I just hope you actually bring me back my gold.”
He pulled out his pocket watch again.
There was only one hour and eight minutes left before the 【Moon Gate】 closed.
There was no time to wait for the results here.
Elias pulled down the brim of his hat over his new face and turned to leave.
At the same time.
A carriage bearing the crescent holy emblem was driving away from the Third Relief Shelter.
Inside the carriage, Theolan Vesper shook his head slightly after listening to the report of the ascetic beside him.
“He changed his appearance after entering the crowd listening to the speech.”
“The observer only saw a strange man board a public carriage, and he didn't head directly to the Society of Freemen afterward.”
“He's cautious enough.”
Theolan leaned back against his seat, his fingertips gently tapping his knee.
“Which means he must know something.”
“Should we keep pursuing him?”
“No need.”
The young investigator smiled.
That smile was entirely different from his previous flat, cold expression.
“This kid is quite interesting.”
“Very humorous, and very unique.”
A layer of cool spirituality slowly flowed over his face.
The young features belonging to Theolan dissolved like a reflection in water, replaced by a composed, middle-aged face of about forty years old.
Impeccably combed hair.
Gold-rimmed monocle.
The ascetic sitting opposite him didn't seem surprised, as if he had long since grown used to it.
Just then, another person pressed down on his communication holy emblem, which had suddenly lit up.
After listening to the message from within, he immediately looked up.
“Bishop.”
“The Society of Freemen just sent a settlement notice.”
“An odd messenger who isn't on the local spirit world station directory and left no contract mark has claimed the commission fee on Constantine's behalf.”
Raymond's tapping finger on his knee stopped.
“Oh?”
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