"May I follow you?" Malin asked.
"You may, but this time is extremely dangerous, and I don’t recommend that you take your girls with you," the old Bishop said, then looked at Jessica: "Especially you, young lady, you can’t even counter the most basic Friendly Spell, I really don’t feel at ease about you."
"I... I understand," Jessica replied with a resigned nod.
"Then no problem, Jessica, stay with everyone at the Church and be safe," Malin said and then followed the old Bishop towards the back hall—where the old man would gather the Punishers.
Casaman finished his last bite of the pine cake, feeling his observation had been sufficient; No. 799 did indeed look like a sheep should, he could try confirming it again tonight.
With this thought in mind, he saw the lad and his Werewolf girl.
They seemed to be heading back to the Goddess of Harvest Church, which plunged Casaman into memories once again—sometimes, he really envied the young.
He rose to his feet, walked to the counter, and took out a piece of Paper Money to pay for the meal; when he received the coins from the young man, Casaman’s eyes contracted briefly— the young man looked like a carefree youth, but the calluses on his hands were as thick as those of a veteran swordsman with twenty years of training.
Casaman almost drew his gun.
But at the last moment, he aborted the action and instead smiled, lifting his hat in a small salute as he left the cafe.
He really did not know if the owner was sick or dead; nor did he know if the young man in front of him was a recklessly bold burglar or a genuine nephew; and he was even less aware of whom this normally operating cafe was aiming to deal with.
It shouldn’t be him; otherwise, he couldn’t possibly have walked out of the cafe alive.
Neither should it be the old codger, after all, he and the old codger had met more than once; if they wanted to deal with him... wait a second, the only one who knew about his and the old codger’s situation was the store manager.
If the manager was one of them, then he wouldn’t have survived; otherwise, he could live freely.
Because they were just after the old codger.
With such caution, Casaman reached the street and pretended to turn around unintentionally for a look, just in time to see someone at the second-floor window watching the street.
This discovery sealed Casaman’s lips.
...The old codger might be in danger.
He must warn him, not to let him enter the cafe!
"Chief Investigator Andy, where are you heading?" asked the woman sitting at the reception desk, noticing that the Chief Investigator from the Pamir division of the Sydney Union military intelligence was heading towards the door.
"This old bag of bones is off to see an old friend," the old man said with squinting eyes, looking kindly at his colleague.
"Then you’d better take care, it hasn’t been safe around here lately," said the woman who was the receptionist.
"I’m not a child," the old man chuckled with a grin.
Then he stepped out of the division. The sun was rising, and as Andy watched it, he couldn’t help but sigh deeply.
Allowing that young man to go undercover might have been the most regrettable thing he’d done in his life.
He didn’t know the young man had a childhood sweetheart for a girlfriend, didn’t know he loved her, or that she loved him, or that he was willing to sacrifice his happiness for this damned world.
And he was unaware that her mind had been twisted by Chaos in despair over his apostasy.
That young man named Casaman might not mention it, but this old codger remembered.
If he could do it over, he would even let his own child take Casaman’s place.
Just hoping to live out the second half of his life with more peace of mind than he had now... Old Andy took out the pocket watch from his chest and glanced at the time on it.
It was time to meet that young man.
This time, we must help him restore his identity. That little organization has no more oil to squeeze from; without the Evil God granting them Divine Arts, their Priests and Bishop look more like a bunch of impostors.
Those damned lunatics, it’s time to capture them all at once.
"How are we going to explain this to Ms. Camilla?" the trackers of the Gamma Group stood in despair on the street corner, having just lost the person they were pursuing.
"The kid was acting alone, he just said his goodbyes to his gang back in the store." As a teammate tracker, the Gnome pondered for a moment, "He has two choices: cross over the rooftops or leave through the back alley of the shop."
"Who in their right mind would take to the roofs unless they could leap over a street five meters wide," the tracker frowned, "Let’s go back and report to Mr. Calami."
Not long after they left, Kata Yudam passed by, his keen sense of smell catching the scent of the members of the Church of the God of Justice. But that was nothing unusual; this was a human city, it would be strange if there wasn’t such a smell.
But another scent made him stop dead in his tracks—it was the smell of his brother.
Had he been discovered? By members of the Church of the God of Justice... wait, he shouldn’t be fleeing from battle; if that were the case, he would’ve left some scent of sweat.
It seemed his brother was up to no good again.
While thinking this, Kata suddenly saw the werewolf girl.
What was she doing here?
And why was she heading towards that alley over there?
Wasn’t the kid with her anymore? That was great, he would grab her, devour her... in all senses of the word.
With a twisted smile on his face, Kata eagerly followed her.
The werewolf girl walked into the alley, seemingly oblivious to the shadow trailing her. This made Kata even happier; never had he been more pleased than when he was about to capture prey so off guard.
Embracing this thought, he saw the werewolf girl round a corner.
Perfect, this was just right. Kata dashed into the alley, and as he rounded the corner, he saw the kid, also a werewolf taking off a wig, and a squad of Punishers smiling smugly at him.
"You’ve come at just the right time," the kid said as he approached him.
Kata lunged at him—escape was out of the question now, he had to take a hostage.
With that thought, Kata’s neck was grabbed, and he was hoisted up by his peer: "You still don’t seem to understand your situation. Come here, number 13 Holy Water, give him a few sips to help him realize that survival requires more than malice."
Watching a Punisher approaching with a cork in one hand and a small bottle in the other, Kata finally shouted out everything the captors wanted to know in his despair: "Please spare me! I surrender!" and he added, "I’ll tell you everything!"
"That’s more like it. Come on, let’s hear about all you’ve been up to." Kata was let down, the very kid who had lifted him with one hand, now held a small twig in the other.
Why were they able to find me? That was what Kata wanted to know more than anything.
Could you please move that twig away? That was Kata’s most urgent request.
"Where has Malin gone?" Faye, stepping out, noticed Jessica sitting alone.
"She went with the Bishop to handle some matters." Jessica pouted, "Faye, is there a better way for me to learn to counteract evil beguiling Spell Formations?"
"You need an anti-Spell Formation magic potion, but I can’t guarantee it’s correct; after all, the store selling the materials said there was no failure while making it, but I’m still nervous." Faye handed a piece of paper to Jessica, with the name of an item written on it—Mirror of Truth.
And then there were instructions for assembly and use
Upon glancing at it, Jessica realized that just the materials alone would cost a considerable sum of money, and so she couldn’t help but heave a heavy sigh.
In this world, it truly is difficult to make a move without money.