Chapter 121 Reply
During winter, the slack season for farming, the residents of Baita Town began to notice a strange group of young people arriving. They were divided into several small groups, each young and friendly, claiming to be students from Baita University. The leader was a cheerful and talkative young man who struck up a conversation with anyone. His bright smile captivated them, and after just a few rounds, the residents, especially the older women, began to let down their guard and warmly invited him into their homes.
"The Glorious Church?" The peasant woman, who had been cheerfully pouring herbal tea to warm people up, wiped her hands on her apron, and the expression on her red, frozen face gradually grew stiff.
"What should I say?" She instinctively glanced around—the place was shabby and gloomy, furniture missing parts, and the few scattered objects on the cabinets were shrouded in the snow-covered light filtering through the cracks. The peasant woman asked nervously, "God of Light, my whole family is a devout believer. We pray every week and never fail to donate..."
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant." Adrian quickly shook his head. "It was just some small talk. You know, we are both students of the seminary..."
But no matter how he tried to get her to relax her guard, the peasant woman kept talking nonsense. The atmosphere in the parish was quite friendly, the priest was very kind, and their whole family was grateful to the God of Light...
An hour later, the farmer's husband also returned. Seeing the farmer's family looking at them with increasing vigilance, Adrian had no choice but to leave the other party's ice cellar-like home with his team members, carrying a belly full of herbal tea and a heart full of frustration.
After the sun sets, the young people of the Baita Youth Association gather again at Baita University. The investigation list given by the professor is varied, including workers, farmers, clerks, vendors, and even homeless people and prostitutes.
But everyone's face was the same dejected look. They all received the same mechanical, unthinking answers, as if they had been collectively brainwashed and memorized. Anyone could see that something was wrong.
The only marginally useful gain came from a crazed homeless man with whom the student had tactfully shared his lunch and subsequently wasted the entire afternoon listening to a lewd and obscene exposition on the eccentricities of a certain priest's weekly lover.
"...I don't understand what the point is," one student muttered. "The townspeople either ignore us, treat us like we're crazy, or tell us to get lost—or they don't tell us the truth at all. It's all just lies and hypocrisy. We're wasting our time."
"At least we know that civilians don't dare to casually comment on the Glorious Church." Adrian encouraged him earnestly, "This also explains some of the problems. For example, they are worried about being reported by those around them and incurring retaliation from the Glorious Church."
"Mr. Adrian is right."
A voice, not one of their own, emerged from the student body, startling everyone. The professor, who hadn't been seen all day, appeared from nowhere and glanced around nonchalantly. "Everyone, learn to see the essence through phenomena."
"For example, when Mr. Adrian was talking to the farmer's wife, there was a family photo on the platform of her cupboard. Among them was a healthy, smiling boy of four or five years old."
Ignoring the students' suddenly wide eyes, the professor continued to break down the information, analyzing it carefully. "The photographic paper is yellowed, blurry, and curled at the edges, indicating it wasn't taken recently. The frame, however, is dust-free, showing signs of frequent polishing and careful polishing. The owner cherished it very much. Taking a photo is expensive, and it was meant to commemorate a significant occasion. Look at the child's attire; he's wearing white. People who work rarely wear light colors, even for new clothes, so white has a special meaning—the boy successfully entered a mission school that day."
Everyone stared at him in amazement, once again clearly witnessing how the Great Devil unleashed his might.
"Judging from the tableware and clothing, this household only has two permanent residents. Comparing the age of the woman and the photograph suggests the photo was taken no more than six years ago. Common sense suggests a family that loves their children wouldn't allow a ten-year-old to work as a laborer away from home for extended periods while still being able to survive. So why isn't there a third person in the household, or even any trace of the child after the age of five?"
Adrian couldn't help but murmur, "...So her son had an accident when he was a child?"
The professor remained noncommittal. "One more thing: when you mentioned the Glorious Church, the peasant woman's first instinct was to look at the photo. Why did she immediately associate the Glorious Church with her son's death, especially after six years?"
There was a dead silence, and an ominous premonition hovered in everyone's heart.
Someone stammered, "This, this is too... Maybe the child died of illness, or just didn't stay at home for some reason..."
"Of course, it's just a guess, though I'm 95 percent sure it's correct." The professor calmly instructed Adrian, "You can try asking around tomorrow. Perhaps this will be a breakthrough."
Adrian suddenly remembered something: "...Wait, how did you infer so much information? The photo frame, the clothes, the tableware... It's like you saw it with your own eyes?"
He nervously looked down at himself and asked, "Is there something stuck on the edge of my shoe, or is there something exposed by the wrinkles in my clothes?"
Nova looked expressionlessly at the group of students in front of him who immediately showed awe towards him, as if waiting for him to wave his magic wand and cast a spell. They didn't seem to notice anything was wrong.
"...I'm not the latest photo stone hovering over your heads." The professor's mouth twitched. "I followed you all the way, and I just asked someone to cast a confusion spell on me."
A certain savior hides his merits and fame.
Everyone: “…”
"Indeed, I witnessed everything, including your appalling, ugly, and ineffective investigative techniques." Nova continued his brutal assault on the students. "Tomorrow morning in theology class, everyone must submit a summary and reflection on today's investigation, followed by a half-hour discussion."
"I don't require a word count, but it must be meaningful and the product of careful thinking. Otherwise..."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, but the unspoken meaning in his expression made everyone shudder.
One student, seeing his classmates looking at him like a warrior, complained angrily, "Since you've come all this way with us, why don't you just ask in person?"
Nova said bluntly: "First, if I were to ask, you would all be like goldfish with your brains shut down, just blowing bubbles with your mouths open. That would be meaningless."
"Secondly," their professor paused, his expressionless face, which always made him look unusually arrogant, finally revealed a hint of displeasure: "Do you really want to see me get beaten up on the spot?"
He was actually very aware of how much he was hated.
Everyone: “…”
I want to laugh but I don’t dare to, and it feels extremely uncomfortable to hold it back.
Ole, however, had no such concerns. This guy had an exotic, cool and handsome face, but when he gloated over someone else's misfortune, he seemed particularly rampant - until the professor, who had wasted most of his time outside and was now finally rushing to his daily work, got so annoyed that he wanted to beat him up.
As if knowing what he was thinking, his assistant slapped his friend's back mercilessly, earning him a furious glare. But the other man ignored him and slyly approached to claim credit: "I've already completed some simple tasks. This is the only part I need your approval."
"...Thank you." Nova glanced at him in surprise, recalling the academic exchanges that sometimes took place in daily life. He had to admit that this guy's professionalism was more or less trustworthy.
"I hope you can rest early tonight." His assistant teacher's tone was particularly gentle, and her beautiful blue eyes looked at him sadly: "-Or maybe I can cover for you in tomorrow's morning class?"
...a very tempting proposal. The professor, who had been severely sleep-deprived recently, was silent for a moment, but ultimately rejected the other party's kindness.
He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly: "It's just the beginning, I still need to do it myself."
Ole, standing by, snorted indifferently, "You're being too nosy."
——This person looks like he is about to be drowned in his work at any time.
The professor looked up at him impatiently and said, "Where's Daniga Asagi? I don't have time tonight. Tell him to come see me tomorrow afternoon."
——If it weren't for this annoying guy and the Shadow Chaser behind him, he would have sprayed venom and blasted the man away.
"Some of the Shadow Chasers are in White Tower Town, but I won't let my people be alone with you." Orel said coldly, "I'll pass on any message I have."
It was one thing for him to obey orders himself, but it was another thing to hand over the entire Shadow Chaser to the tyrant. He could not take that risk.
The tyrant showed a mocking look on his face, but did not say much. He just pulled out a notebook that someone had snatched from his arms from a pile of documents beside the table. There were several sheets of manuscript paper covered with dense handwriting in it, and handed it to him with a cold face.
After Ole took it and opened it, his mood became complicated: the seriousness and dedication were so visible to the naked eye. God knows how this person did so many things in such a short time - well, his good friend was looking at him with a smile, which must have consumed a lot of his energy.
The assassin felt an inexplicable pang of conscience.
"An answer to Daniga Asagi," the professor replied coldly and briefly. "You can give it to him directly, and others, including you, can also read it."
He paused for a moment, then suddenly let out a sarcastic laugh: "Of course, that's assuming you can understand it, right?"
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