When Ford Hill walked into the gate of the church in Port Alper, several black-capped sparrows lying on the eggshell-like dome were frightened. They flapped their wings and flew into the clouds dyed red by the sunset and disappeared.

Noyce looked up at them as they left and casually complained, "There are just too many stupid birds in the countryside. Not only do they fly around everywhere, but they also poop everywhere."

The blond, gray-eyed Alpha stared at the birds' backs and asked, "Is it a very common bird?"

"They're incredibly common. If you stayed here for a month, you'd be annoyed to death by the noise and the layer of bird droppings covering the roof of the hovercar."

When he entered the church to question the bishop, Benson looked at Ford's back and couldn't help but chuckle.

Noyce knew what he was laughing at, and pretended to take out a small notebook from his pocket and took notes with a ballpoint pen. At the same time, he imitated Ford Hill's tone and said, "I'm very sorry, I'm not very good with electronic equipment."

Benson rolled his eyes. "I wonder what abilities he has that would make headquarters so interested in him."

Noyce nodded in agreement, and the two men looked at each other, both feeling that their relationship, which used to have a small quarrel every day and a big quarrel every three days, had been brought much closer by a competitor they both disliked.

Twenty minutes later, Ford came out of the church, holding a notebook and asked, "What do you know about the Bacon family who lived in the slums?"

"Bishop Shelley mentioned many names to me just now. I've selected some key points: Almost all of the elders in the Bacon family have not received formal education and are the main proponents of 'evil theism.' Conversely, the youngest daughter, Erica Bacon, is said to be a rare genius with a high IQ. Bishop Shelley speaks highly of her, suggesting that if she had the opportunity to receive higher education, she might achieve extraordinary success in scientific research."

Benson thought to himself, what's the point of the bishop only caring about these trivial family matters?

On the surface, he smiled and said, "We have met the old lady of the Bacon family."

Ford had originally held no hope for his companion, but he was actually a little surprised when he heard this: "You've made contact? Can you take me over to meet her?"

"...We had a big argument and almost came to blows. Now she avoids outsiders when she sees them."

Ford Hill: "..."

The greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

He must be completely out of his mind to think that Benson and Noyce are reliable.

At this moment, a half-grown boy in gardener's overalls came over with tools in his hand and asked tentatively, "Do you want to know anything about the Bacon family?"

Ford looked back and raised an eyebrow, then said, "Yes." as he looked at the Beta in front of him.

"I know a little," the boy said, his eyes glancing over Ford's obviously expensive suit.

Ford directly took out a ten-dollar star coin from his pocket and handed it over: "Reward."

"Okay." The boy licked his lips, looked around, and then whispered, "This is what my brother saw this afternoon. It's absolutely true. He said that Erica Bacon told them personally that she can communicate with evil gods. She knows a lot of knowledge that others don't know, and she can easily collapse a building."

Benson next to him asked critically, "Are you taking us for fools?"

"Everything I say is true!" the boy said eagerly, clutching the star coin tightly in his hand. "If you don't believe me, go ask other children. But their families usually don't let them interact with outsiders, so you probably won't be able to catch them."

"I will," said Ford, putting on his hat and turning to leave.

Noyce followed behind and whispered, "That sounds fake."

"Not necessarily," said Ford.

"Uh, do you also agree with the heresy?"

"No." Ford paused. "What I mean is, if Erica Bacon is really as talented as Bishop Shelley said, then it's not unimaginable that she could use waste materials to make a machine that could collapse a building at such a young age." There was a hint of admiration in his words.

Benson and Noyce: "..."

I'm afraid your understanding of children's abilities is vastly different from ours!

**

It was the evening rush hour, and most of the people waiting in line at the Yarple Port City Hospital had left. The hall was deserted, with only a middle-aged man with a beer belly like he was seven months pregnant sitting on a chair, tapping his fingers while waiting.

After a while, the announcement came, "Is Mr. Bradley, who made an appointment in advance, here?"

The man hurriedly stood up and strode into the room marked the Dean's Office.

A blond, blue-eyed man, about forty, sat at the computer. He put down his mouse and looked up at him. He walked over to the chair across from the desk, sat down, and pulled out a piece of paper. He wrote on it, "I'm Igor Sullivan."

The dean pushed up his glasses and showed a surprised expression: "It's safe in my office, you can talk directly."

Igor raised the corner of his mouth slightly, stood up and gave him a hug: "Long time no see, Garcia."

Time was limited, so after proving his identity and reminiscing about the past, he briefly explained the current situation: "...You know how difficult Ford Hill is. Rather than trying to fix it afterward, it's better to prevent him from discovering anything from the beginning."

"I understand." Garcia nodded thoughtfully. "So it was you and your companions who really saved those Omegas? I still don't understand why the crew members on the spaceship were injured. How did you do it?"

"That's another story." Igor smiled, not intending to mention the existence of Azathoth. "I can tell you slowly when I have time. I'm sorry to trouble you this time. Thank you very much."

"There's no need to be polite between you and me. It's just a small favor." Garcia took off his glasses and wiped the lenses. "I'm already very happy to know that you can return to the Federation safely. Now that the arrest warrant has been revoked, you must be careful."

Igor hesitated for a moment and asked softly, "One more thing...Garcia, can you prescribe me a box of sleeping pills?"

Garcia paused while wiping his glasses, then suddenly raised his ice-blue glasses. "What's going on?"

"You know," Igor said casually, "I was accidentally caught while reporting to the capital. It's just the aftereffects of the interrogation."

The dean's cheek twitched. "Lynching before the trial? A bunch of beasts! What did they do?!"

"It's okay, it's okay." Garcia stood up excitedly, and Igor came over to comfort him, "I'm fine now, right? I just have insomnia occasionally. Everyone has these little problems."

"Are you kidding? Post-traumatic stress disorder isn't that simple!" Garcia looked at him sharply. "Igor, tell me honestly what other symptoms you have."

“… Really.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Garcia sighed. "Forget it, I can't persuade you. I'll prescribe sleeping pills for you, but you have to be aware that if you feel the need to hold on, you must talk to someone in advance. Don't keep everything bottled up."

"I know," Igor said. "Thank you."

Garcia patted his shoulder.

Before Igor left, the dean remembered a question of concern: "Your sister Wendy...is there any news about her?"

Igor whispered, "No, it's okay, I'm used to it."

After saying that, he nodded to Garcia, put the bottle of sleeping pills into his pocket, and walked out of the city hospital without looking back.

When passing by the dessert shop, Igor remembered to buy a small cake with a new flavor to bring to Azathoth.

He still hasn't figured out what flavors Azathoth prefers. No matter whether it's common fruits or flavors like durian that some people like and some don't, his god accepts everything and has a blank expression when eating, as if he is not enjoying food but doing some necessary but not boring work.

So much so that while Igor was feeding him, he somehow thought that perhaps one day, when people offered great deeds to the gods, Azathoth might just accept them with a similar nonchalant attitude. And if someone were at the end of their rope and had nothing left, and could only offer a few words of praise that were better than nothing, He wouldn't despise them for it.

——This made Igor feel a long-lost sense of security, so he happily put any snacks he could buy in front of Azathoth.

As they were almost at the hotel, Igor heard the conversation of passersby: "...Just now, the news: the secretary of our city hall governor ran away!"

"Is this true? Why?"

"The official report couldn't be false. I guess the reason is this: they've been arguing about who's responsible for the pirates smuggling people out of Port Alplai. They probably wanted to use the secretary as a scapegoat, but she didn't want to go to jail and ran away."

"Ah, but where else can we go? Outside the Federation?"

"Who knows? Anyway, if I don't watch the news, I don't even know what the Secretary-General looks like..."

Igor frowned, holding a bag of pastries in one hand and opening his mobile terminal with the other to check the news. He walked without stopping until he reached the elevator of the hotel and stopped.

He caught a glimpse of two elevators on the first floor. A sign saying "Under Maintenance" was hung on the door of the one next to it. It must have been out of use in the afternoon. Igor hadn't seen it when he left in the morning.

After a dozen seconds, the elevator descended to the first floor.

As Igor walked in, a hand suddenly shot out from a blind spot, attempting to cover his mouth. The former federal marshal calmly dodged the attack, landing a headbutt. Then, with a precise 180-degree swing of his left leg, he slammed the attacker to the ground. His hand on the cake bag remained steady as he did so, even tugging at the closure to peek inside and make sure the cream hadn't rubbed against the bag.

Then Igor half-knelt down, looked at the very familiar-looking woman in the elevator and asked, "Excuse me, Miss Secretary, what brings you here?"

The secretary of Port Alplai City Hall, who had just appeared on the afternoon news, stared at him for a long moment before suddenly saying, "Did you see the news report just now? I know who the real heretic in this city is. I can tell you, you can get a large sum of money if you go to the church to ask for a reward again. But if you report me to the city hall now, you won't get a penny, because at most I'm skipping work. So, how about it? This multiple-choice question isn't difficult, is it?"

The real heretic Igor: "..."

He pretended to consider it for a few seconds as the elevator continued to rise steadily. After confirming that the cameras here were not working properly, he said calmly, "Then you tell me first."