Chapter 284 Undercover
"Number Six" Horn is actually a spy secretly cultivated by the Royal Court Council. He was ordered to go undercover in Port Morris, where the People's Democratic Party is entrenched, looking for an opportunity to join the People's Democratic Party and gain the trust of the higher-ups. On the one hand, he passed relevant intelligence to the Royal City, and on the other hand, he waited for an opportunity to cause trouble.
The initial phase of the mission wasn't difficult. The rebels were still on the rise and desperately needed manpower, especially talent. Using his status as a sorcerer, Horn easily connected with the rebels. They had formed some kind of "guild," and as a clever undercover agent, he could easily discern that the People's Party was using this to control the power of the sorcerers and warriors among the people.
But this was a good opportunity for Horn. He fabricated an image of himself as someone persecuted and ostracized by the Vatican, filled with resentment towards the current system. He deliberately and unintentionally displayed his studious nature and talent in front of the speakers, carefully controlling the level of attention-grabbing yet not too suspicious. As expected, just as Horn was about to lose his patience, someone within the People's Party finally extended an olive branch to him.
His new boss, with a kind of foolish naivety, told him sincerely that the party was short of manpower and resources and could not afford to hire reliable warlock teachers. However, the People's Party needed to cultivate a group of warlocks of its own, and his level was enough to deal with beginners - if he was willing to help, the People's Party would definitely not treat him unfairly in the future.
"I can see they're a bunch of poor bastards," Horn muttered inwardly with disdain. He didn't even know where they found an ordinary person to teach a group of warlocks. Although the boy's level was really good, perhaps due to his family background, he couldn't tell for the time being.
But as an undercover agent, Horn naturally agreed immediately, expressing immense excitement at the prospect. Everything was going incredibly smoothly, and Horn was confident that he could use this as a launching pad to successfully infiltrate the core circle of the People's Party, bite the rebels from within, and successfully complete his mission... What the hell!
Teacher Horne's eyes glazed with exhaustion every day. After several months, he suddenly realized he was constantly teaching beginners, batch after batch of clueless beginners. Whenever he spotted a few promising youngsters and tried to secretly approach them, using threats and inducements to win them over, they would disappear one by one, one by one, for some strange reason. Some were recruited by the People's Party and then transferred, some announced they were leaving Port Morris, and some even vanished without a trace...
To make matters worse, he found his workload was simply increasing by the day. During the day, he had to teach three groups of students of varying levels, at night he had to write basic teaching materials, and in his free time he had to give speeches and propaganda for the People's Party. He was so busy that he couldn't even find the opportunity to transmit intelligence to the royal court, and yet his salary was barely enough to survive.
And that seemingly innocent boss always made the most demanding demands in an expectant tone: "Teacher Horn, you are the most outstanding civilian warlock I have ever met. I can only leave this matter to you. I don't trust anyone else!"
Horn: "..."
He wanted to curse loudly, but he couldn't let anyone see any clues, so he had to force a smile that could hardly hide his pain and fatigue in the face of his boss's worried questions.
Are the others this exhausted? Horn wondered vaguely, why did he feel like he was the only one struggling to survive every day? Were all the people in the People's Party saints? So much work, so little pay, all based on sheer passion...
What frustrated Horn the most was that when he tried to recall any information worth transmitting to the Royal Court Council, his mind was filled with lesson plans and preparation notes, as well as a list of problem students who were so stupid that they almost gave him a heart attack.
Just as Horn was trying to find some excuse to shirk his duties, his boss suddenly lowered his voice and said with concern, "Teacher Horn, as you know, there have been some... not-so-good rumors circulating internally recently, about spies and undercover agents."
Horn's pupils trembled slightly. He continued to inquire calmly, and finally heard his superior tell him frankly that a large number of spies and undercover agents with ulterior motives had been uncovered within the party, and those who had disappeared for no apparent reason were part of them.
"Some people are beginning to doubt your identity. After all, you're so talented, yet you willingly chose a job that barely scrapes by..." Seeing Horn's expression change, his boss quickly reassured him, "Of course, I've scolded all those gossipers! Mr. Horn works so hard and diligently because of your noble character and the same ideals we all share. How could you possibly be an undercover agent?"
So Horn had to force a smile, readily accepted the new job, and continued to work diligently for the Kuomintang.
Privately, Horn couldn't help but wonder if these people already knew about his undercover identity. If so, that would be too terrifying—but he had witnessed the bloody and brutal methods used by those black-clad men who specialized in dealing with traitors. He was so terrified that he didn't dare show any sign of abnormality and could only continue to work tirelessly.
If the tragic story of this almost insignificant character could reach the ears of Knight Commander Ialos, he would surely resonate deeply with it.
Sometimes the Knight Commander wished he could grow eight arms, but he only had one left.
Do the People's Party still remember that he's the Queen's man?! As a knight guarding the Queen at all times, after countless times fully utilizing his past experience to successfully deliver satisfactory results to the Ghost, Yialos even felt a sudden surge of emotion, like a new father...
——That’s enough. This is simply adding fuel to the fire of the rebels who are trying to overthrow the empire!
The first batch of dragon knights, the first batch of public hospitals and public schools, the first batch of improved factories, and even the first batch of new weapons to equip the army... As time went on, Yialos, who witnessed this new political party moving forward step by step, became more and more silent, and the look he gave Ghost became more and more complicated.
Port Morris's reputation gradually changed from "a filthy port cursed by the gods and controlled by slaves" to "the place where the dawn is." Legend has it that there are no beggars or slaves here, and even the humblest people can always live a decent life as long as they work hard.
The power of this title even began to radiate beyond Port Morris. Since the Seamen's Union announced its affiliation with the People's Democratic Party, the Casa Strait has been completely controlled by the People's Democratic Party. The Batalha Highlands are also in turmoil, with peasant and worker uprisings breaking out one after another.
Just as the Silver Iris Empire focused its attention on the tense war in the north, this young political party was growing rapidly and recklessly, like a healthy and fat newborn baby, greedily absorbing everything around it that could make it grow. Unfortunately, Ialos was powerless to do anything about it, and he was "appropriately" excluded.
The soul of this land didn't even bother to care about the feelings of the undercover agents he exploited. His teacher, Delus Rabelais, returned to White Tower University after only a few days. After several months, Percy Brody's strength had finally fully recovered, and the professor planned to leave his lair once again and personally visit St. Bartolomeo's School of Sorcerers.
Maxine had already successfully achieved the status of a beginner Lord's Prayer warrior, and Greven had also reached the rank of advanced apostle, with the potential for a breakthrough at any moment. With these two and Orel, they were more than capable of handling any emergencies, ensuring that Port Morris wouldn't experience any major chaos.
So after the professor arranged the work, he happily ran away with the savior and his stupid brother.
Percy was extremely excited about this. Although he had lost his power, these past few months were almost his happiest time, because whenever his brother was free, he would take him with him and teach him personally.
The only annoying thing was the golden retriever who could easily make him lose his composure and then act like a spoiled child in front of his brother.
——This man is actually a god! He felt that his reverence for the gods had been completely shattered.
Percy was really surprised when he first visited the guns and cannons made by the mechanical engineer named Sainz. The guy was covered in dust and his clothes were worn out. He looked like a madman with only a pair of eyes flashing with an excited and strange light.
There were gunpowder-powered guns and cannons on the market, but their power was only enough to kill a rabbit or elk, completely inferior to that of magical equipment. So, initially, Percy saw that madman's "masterpiece," without the power of coal and the support of a formation, as nothing more than a useless, clumsy pile of metal used to steal funding.
However, when the first shell exploded in the test site, Percy's pupils could not help but shrink violently - in the deafening roar and the flames shooting into the sky, he seemed to see some subversive force breaking out of the ground.
——And my brother calls this the "industrial revolution driven by science and technology."
Percy Brody was deeply shocked.
To be honest, he never thought that ordinary people could compete with sorcerers and warriors, especially high-level sorcerers and warriors. But if he asked himself, if ten cannonballs surrounded him and fired at the same time, as a high-level sorcerer, Percy deeply suspected that he would be seriously injured or even killed by a group of ordinary people, and the price these ordinary people paid was just to pull the trigger and light the fuse.
The young genius, always arrogant and dismissive of ordinary people besides his brother, became silent for the first time, truly observing everything this city was shaping. So much so that when his strength returned, Percy wasn't as happy as he'd expected, and even felt a hint of melancholy. He knew it was time to leave, that his brother would no longer protect him...
But now! Percy Brody, the third-year head of St. Bartolomeo's School of Warlocks, was sitting on the ferry back to school, and his brother was sitting opposite him, concentrating on reading documents.
Percy was so happy that he wanted to roll on the ground. He even had a vague illusion that his brother was personally taking him to school - of course, if his brother didn't have that annoying guy next to him.
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