Chapter 333 Mom
"who?"
The man's voice was soft and eerily calm, as if he was just confirming an insignificant detail.
Ole subconsciously thought that this person did not hear the identity of the deceased clearly, and like all people who received sudden bad news, he could not believe it out of emotion - but when the assassin saw the pair of transparent smoky gray eyes, he suddenly realized that the other party was not trying to escape instinctively by asking questions and resisting.
"The murderer was Ottless Brody." His voice was hoarse, and he said something that he didn't know if it would make the other person feel better: "She was shot. She died quickly and didn't suffer much."
"reason."
"Oletus Brody contacted the Bateman family and was caught by Mrs. Brody when he tried to escape." Ole tried to make his description as brief as possible. If possible, he didn't want to inflict too long and great cruel torture on this young man who looked as pale as a ghost - but he had to.
"More details are here. Bateman's men and Outles Brody have been imprisoned by the Shadow Chasers, but are currently alive." He fished out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, hesitated, and handed it to the professor. The professor took it without a tremor in his fingertips, even adjusting his glasses.
He read it very carefully and quickly, and soon raised his head again, carefully smoothing out the creases on the interrogation results from the Ironthorn Territory, and placed it neatly on the top of the thick stack of documents, as if it was not the death report of his biological mother.
"The plan needs to be adjusted," the black-haired young man said calmly, his voice as smooth as a precision instrument. "Due to the effects of the Soul Protection Chant, Aidoni Brody's last words will be transmitted to the Royal Court Council and even the royal family. At the same time, the Bateman family has received an 'accusation' from Outles Brody. Although it's just a sentence, it's enough for them to try to exploit the issue."
Ole couldn't help but glance at Azuka, trying to find some clues in his friend's eyes as to what to do next.
The other person was far too calm, and this unnatural composure only made him more worried. Since Shadow Chaser had been asked to secretly care for Mrs. Brody, it meant the relationship between mother and son wasn't completely ruined. He would rather he had him collapse and scream, cry, or even collapse and roll on the ground like any other twenty-something young man—that would be better than the cold, hard statue he was now.
Azuka just shook her head slightly at him.
"Over at Ironthorn Territory, tell Percy Brody and your subordinates that we'll discuss their punishment later." The ghost's instructions were still brief and clear. "The most urgent thing is to keep an eye on Bartman's men and Outles Brody. They are still useful. Don't let anyone silence them."
Under the gaze of those smoky gray eyes, Ole's body stiffened and he immediately responded, only to feel his scalp tingling.
"Regarding Otto Brody's 'identification' and Adonie Brody's last words..." The professor was silent for a moment, staring at the pen in his hand. The tip of the pen left a darker and darker ink dot on the paper, almost soaking through the back of the paper. "Since they want to play a propaganda game, then we will play along with them."
"Are you going to strike first and take the other one?" Azuka asked in a low voice, her voice soft and gentle.
"That's right," the ghost said calmly. "Notify White Tower University and our friends at the newspaper. Advance your plans and begin hyping up the tragic story of Sergeant Victor Lawrence and the Iron Shield's Honorable Assault Company. Focus the conversation on the Ruskin family, the Supreme Minister of War, the Royal Council, and even the Queen. Discuss how the Queen has quietly caused some nobles to 'disappear' over the years, implying that the royal family knew some ministers were collaborating with the enemy but chose to suppress these matters."
"Tell Ivan Adrian, president of the Inquisition Association, that you can ask Vice-Principal Gibson Wyatt for help. He won't refuse." The professor tapped the table lightly, his tone undisguised in its coldness and bloodiness. "If he refuses, then let Shadow Chaser tell him why he can't refuse."
He rejected the request of the White Tower University Trial Association and his teacher Dels Rabelais to come to the royal city for this Blooming Conference. Firstly, it was too dangerous, and secondly, it happened to be useful now.
"...Finally, tell the students of the Inquisition Association and the Shadow Chasers stationed in White Tower Town, especially Dean Dels Rabelais, to be extra vigilant in the near future." In the silence, Nova lowered his eyes and slowly put the cap on his pen. He placed the pen on the table with a slight clicking sound. Ole felt his heart tighten for some reason. "...That's all for now. Have you written it down?"
Seeing the assassin staring at him in a daze, the professor nodded subconsciously. He nodded slightly, his tone flat and steady, "Then let's go. The representatives of the Third Council are still waiting for us."
He put his hands on the table and tried to stand up.
The first attempt failed—perhaps because his arms were shaking slightly, as if he had lost strength—so he tried a second time.
Ole frowned and subconsciously took a step forward: "You..."
Azuka took the lead and supported the man.
"Can I?" The Savior quietly gazed into those eyes, which seemed to be covered with a layer of dim gray mist. His voice was very soft, but it carried a power that made people instinctively believe in him. "You know I can go for you."
It was incoherent, but both parties in the conversation knew what he was referring to.
The black-haired young man looked at him expressionlessly for a while. Something seemed to fluctuate extremely slowly in the depths of his smoky-gray eyes, but eventually returned to silence—then he shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly.
"I can," the professor said calmly, and stood up straight.
…
Soon, the story of the "Iron Shield" Honor Assault Company caused an uproar throughout the Silver Iris Empire. Calls for accountability for the suspended Supreme Military Minister and his faction, and even for the royal family to prove its innocence, were rampant. For this reason, there were even marches and demonstrations in various places, and the royal city was also ready to move.
Under such coercion, the date for the third Blooming Conference was finally set. Everyone knew this would likely be the final meeting, and both sides had completely lost their patience and reached their limit.
An anxious atmosphere enveloped the royal city. Everyone was waiting, filled with confusion, anxiety and excitement.
The former Supreme Minister of War, Marquis Henderson Shrike, who was idle at home, was so angry that he smashed all the decorations on the table, and the expensive porcelain and crystal ornaments were shattered all over the floor.
"Tell me you've reached an agreement with the ghost!" He grabbed his son Kennett Shrike's collar in frustration. "What is this guy doing now? Pushing the Shrike family to the forefront and targeting them?!"
He had to admit that perhaps the Shrike family had made some "small" deals with the Far North nation of Ferros, but Shrike vowed never to undermine the foundation of the kingdom. After all, the front lines were the most expensive and the easiest place to make money. What general wouldn't do that? Why should Shrike just watch them get rich?
Kennett Shrike's face turned pale. The situation was changing too quickly, and the ghost himself was like a ghost that appeared and disappeared at will. No one could guess what he was up to. He was simply strolling leisurely on the nerves of everyone in the royal city.
He originally thought that he could gain something for the Shrike family through transactions and betrayal, which was the trick that nobles were best at - but when he actually faced this person, he found that this person did not bother to uphold the customary rules among nobles. Instead, he was more like an arsonist who wanted to burn down the fig leaf of this ancient and huge empire, a whimsical and ruthless liquidator!
Madman... Madman!
It was not only the Shrike family who had trouble sleeping late at night. To be precise, the powerful nobles, priests, and even the royal family and ministers in the entire royal city had trouble sleeping because of the existence called ghost.
"Can't sleep?"
The professor, sitting in his dark office chair, froze for a moment. Someone spun his chair around, completely exposing him to the moonlight streaming in from the window. The cold, glaring moonlight instantly engulfed him, illuminating any hint of loss of control on his face.
The professor frowned uncomfortably. A thin and soft blanket wrapped around him, and the savior knelt on one knee in front of him, pulled up his wrists, tore off his gloves, and held his hands in his palms - although it was still summer, the black-haired young man's fingers were as cold as ice.
"Tomorrow is the third meeting of the Blooming Conference." Azuka said softly, slowly stroking the several new and clear bite marks on her lover's fingers, even with bruises, and healing them one by one.
"...I know." Nova lowered his eyes and tried to pull his hand back uncomfortably - but he didn't. The man's grip wasn't tight, but it was irresistible.
"You go to sleep first, I'll be there soon." He said calmly, even making a joke that wasn't funny: "Don't worry, I know my priorities and won't yawn at tomorrow's Bloom meeting, or those people will be furious."
Azuka stared at him deeply.
"Do you want to cry?" he asked suddenly without warning, his voice so soft as if he was afraid of frightening something.
The other person looked stunned for a moment, then subconsciously raised his eyes to look at him: "...Why do I want to cry?"
Those blue eyes looked at him gently, sadly, and inclusively, but their owner did not answer.
...For a moment, Yue Cangkong had the embarrassing illusion that he had thrown away his weapons and armor under the gaze of those blue eyes and turned into a weak and ugly piece of naked meat.
"...I don't know." He whispered after a long time.
"I don't know." The soul from another world repeated, staring blankly at his only puzzle. At this moment, he seemed like a confused and fragile child.
After a moment's silence, perhaps inspired by the warmth of her palms and the weight of those eyes, he finally decided to speak again, and began to analyze himself with uncharacteristic cruelty: "She and I are from completely different worlds. Everything that shaped her made it nearly impossible for her and me to reconcile. Yet, a ridiculous blood relationship forced us to be bound together... Thus, she brought me hysterical pain and humiliation, and I responded with her cold and ruthless resistance and distance."
"I don't hate her, and I probably don't love her either," the professor said indifferently. "After all, even in my most vulnerable childhood, I still retained the rationality of an adult, even a freak. Even though this is extremely unfair to her, she will never be able to experience the purest love a mother can have, the love that comes from a normal child."
"And I just feel... boredom, trouble, exhaustion, and a sense of responsibility driven by worldly morality towards this sudden close relative, but that's all."
"...But I bear a large part of the responsibility for her death. My arrogance and contempt indirectly led to this. Those 'I could have's' are now meaningless..." His voice became softer and softer, and he didn't even know who he was questioning. "I warned her to stay away from me for her own protection, but the last thing she did before she died was to protect me... But why? I don't understand."
The black-haired young man's fingers slowly curled up in the other man's clenched palm.
"...I don't have a mother anymore." He said quietly without tears.
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