Chapter 292 Privileges

Ghosts, ghosts wandering in the imperial sky, walking on the coal ash mixed with blood.

The owners of the empire knew his name, his appearance, and his past - but they could never guess what he was thinking, nor could they grasp his future. They even began to doubt whether he was a real human being, or just a phantom collectively praised by fools. They could not catch him.

Kennett Shrike's Adam's apple moved as he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth caused by nervousness. In fact, he was just gambling, but he didn't expect that he would really see this legendary leader of the People's Party.

It seemed as if it were only yesterday that the other party was being imprisoned. Now, this man was leading a group of slaves, raising his banner in the western border of the empire, and boldly issuing a declaration to tear down the old curtain towards the Church, the royal court, and even the royal power, easily inciting shouts that resounded throughout the empire.

Besides, he is so young.

The ghost did not speak first. He just sat at the table under the glass window. The moon illuminated the outline of his hair, but made his pale face hidden in the deep shadows. Only a pair of almost transparent eyes behind the lenses reflected a cold and bright light.

…Those smoky grey eyes were simply breathtaking.

Percy Brody actually has an exquisite face. If he were not the head of the grade, such a handsome boy with a declining family power would also be the target of Kennett Shrike's hunting for fun.

But while fun was fun, a Shrike couldn't be a fool whose lower body had taken away his brain. He knew who he couldn't afford to offend, and it was best not to even consider provoking them. So, even after a moment of hesitation, Kennett Shrike remained incredibly respectful as he bowed to the seemingly frail, black-haired young man who also bore the characteristics of the Brody family.

"Mr. Ghost."

...What a pity. Although this person is just an ordinary and fragile person, he is not someone he can afford to provoke at his current state.

The black-haired young man raised his eyes and stared at him for a while, then said without any greeting: "Are you here on behalf of the family, or on your own behalf?"

It seemed as if she had already seen through the purpose of his visit and his thoughts.

Amidst the inexplicable pressure, a layer of cold sweat broke out on the back of Kennett Shrike's neck. He smiled wryly and said, "My father is still imprisoned in the Royal City. Don't you know how Shrike ended up like this?"

This implied that he had a hand in the Shrike family's decline. Nova lowered his eyes in disbelief and replied coldly, "Shrike is simply paying the price it should."

Shrike has an unshirkable responsibility for the serious corruption problem in the Silver Iris Army.

"Like the Brody family once, the Shrike also made great contributions to the Empire. But now, the land we rely on, the master we are loyal to, has become our destroyer and predator." Kennett Shrike gritted his teeth and hinted, "But what if the Shrike does not want to end up like this?"

The pair of gray eyes suddenly glanced at him coldly, and at that moment, Kennett suddenly felt that his belly had been completely cut open, with all his internal organs exposed in the moonlight.

"Oh, you want to hedge your bets?" he asked lightly and bluntly.

His heart skipped a beat at this un-aristocratic, yet strangely familiar, sharp and blunt remark. Kennett stiffened his face and said with a fake smile, "Anything Bateman can do, Shrike can do too."

...This guy must have misunderstood something, the professor blinked.

"Excuse me for being blunt, but the Shrike doesn't have the capital to do so nowadays." The black-haired young man leaned back in his chair gracefully, his gloved hands lazily crossed in front of him, as arrogant as a monarch summoning his subjects.

Ignoring Kennett Shrike's increasingly pale face, he sneered rudely, "Compared to little Batman, you seem a little smarter—but I don't need any smart-aleck people here."

Kennett Shrike slowly clenched his palms, his nails digging into his flesh. Seeing the other man turn away, as if ready to leave, he finally abandoned the subtle evasions and chose to get straight to the point: "The People's Party wants to use the Blooming Conference to gain access to the center of imperial power, right?"

As expected, the other party fell silent. The black-haired young man slowly sat up straight, seeming to have some interest in this topic. "Continue."

"The Third Council is weak. No matter how many civilian representatives you can muster, even with the votes of the Oakenselle Society, you still can't compete with the First and Second Councils." Seeing no one say a word, Kennet Shrike felt even more confident that his move was the right one. "But the Shrike family can at least mobilize roughly one-fifth of the Second Council's upper-level members, plus ten lower-level members. Not all nobles are satisfied with the status quo. I believe my colleagues will be happy to cast their votes to change it."

"No evidence whatsoever," the other party said indifferently, but Kennett Shrike felt relieved.

"Of course." He stood up and bent gracefully. "The Shrike will prove its worth—but only if the Shrike does not die now."

…

Kennett Shrike left with a smug look on his face. The professor sat expressionlessly in his chair, his finger tapping his lips, as if lost in thought.

"He's not telling the truth."

A voice slowly emerged from behind him. Nova blinked and hummed softly: "I know."

"The Shrike is most likely trying to sell us out in exchange for a chance of survival from the Royal Court—a small chance it's actually betting on both sides." The black-haired young man lowered his eyes nonchalantly. "But exchanging a blank check for a verbal promise is a win-win for everyone."

So he decided to play along, he thought maliciously, to see who would get rich and who would end up with nothing in the end.

Azuka chuckled softly. From his angle, he could clearly see the subtle smugness on his old enemy's face. He was so wicked that he couldn't help but reach out and rub the back of his neck. "You had this in mind when you threatened little Bartman?"

The black-haired young man nodded reservedly: "Just go with the flow."

"Based on Kennett Shrike's current personality, I think it's more likely that the God of Love in his previous life was involved, especially in the later stages—but he's not a good person himself. I've heard rumors that he forced students to commit suicide, and it's very likely true." He suddenly changed the subject thoughtfully. "By the way, does this short-term cooperation make you uncomfortable?"

Azuka was slightly taken aback, then his eyes softened. "No, sir. I can distinguish between feelings and pros and cons, and I won't confuse time. You don't have to worry about me in this regard."

——He would only get rid of people quietly and thoroughly after they were no longer of any use to him.

The Savior smiled gently and lowered his eyes.

Don't think he didn't see the mad dog's look at people; it was so familiar that it was sickening. Some people are born with a love of dragging down powerful and beautiful things, then strangling them in their own hands.

——Unfortunately, he would never allow it.

The professor had no idea what gory images were running through the minds of the people around him. He simply let out a breath and unfolded the letter sent by owl: "...They're planning a big one."

These are the original words, like a bandit.

Upon learning of his impending death, the president of the Oakensale Society seemed to be laying down a heavy burden, unbelievably carefree. Over the past six months, with his introduction and assistance, Nova had begun delving into the core affairs of the society, gradually taking over its vast and hidden network of contacts.

The Academy also had radicals and conservatives, including some respected elders with many disciples. The radicals wanted a subversive revolution and would fight to the end against the Church, which persecuted scholars and interfered with secular affairs, while the conservatives only wanted to maintain the status quo.

Fortunately, the great changes in the outside world allowed them to unite a large part of the people more quickly. The shadow of war loomed over the empire, whether it was wars with foreign races or internal disputes. In order to protect themselves, to survive, and to seek more solutions -

The black-haired young man stared expressionlessly at the scribbling handwriting on Owl's hand. "The latest news is that the Glorious Church is preparing to sign the 'Purification Order,' demanding that the Pope launch a Holy Inquisition, which hasn't been launched in a century, to indiscriminately purge all supporters of the 'God is Human' doctrine."

"A desperate struggle," he commented in a cold tone. "These priests don't even bother pretending. It seems they've been pushed into a corner."

"It doesn't matter. Chaos is the best cradle for new life." Azuka chuckled. "Do you need me to contact Bishop Pavardon Miller? I think he's very interested in the position of Pope."

Of course, it is uncertain how much value the Pope's throne will have in the future.

"Yes." The professor nodded appreciatively, pleased that someone had quickly caught up with his train of thought. "And you'll have to keep an eye on it yourself. Thank you for your hard work."

But the other party didn't say anything. Just when Nova looked up at him with some confusion, he nodded his lips without changing his expression.

Nova: “…”

He thought expressionlessly about the latest bad habit he had discovered. The male protagonist would suddenly become frivolous when talking about serious matters, but would deliberately become serious when doing frivolous things. It was so bad - he didn't even want to recall the bastard's appearance not long ago when he held him in his office chair, slowly circling and massaging his lower abdomen, and while he was trembling in a daze, he whispered some serious matters in his ear, and forced him to express his opinions with sobs.

But the professor finally paused, raised his head, and kissed the blond young man's gently curved lips. It was a perfunctory gesture that was visibly visible, but the other party knew when to stop and continued to discuss the specific plan with him contentedly.

...But fortunately, this guy always knows his limits, the professor thought. After all, he has never really delayed his work, so he can just take it as a lover's privilege.