"Dear Aunt Shirley,
Long time no see, I wonder how your recovery is going."
After typing this line, Anne leaned against the wall and the back of her chair, lost in thought for a moment. The people coming and going outside were all high-ranking Vatican officials and members of the Red Line Legion. Someone had just entered, saluted her, and then, in a gentle but unyielding tone, relayed the order from Executive Director Yeda: they would proactively seek appropriate means to seek some minor assistance from Agnes Joyce, Anne's friend Erica, and would provide compensation afterward.
Anne agreed.
She had no reason to refuse.
Someone quickly raised a communication device, ready to contact Erica's current guardian, Ford Hill. A group of adults gathered around a small device. When the signal connected and Ford's greeting came through, the transparent glass door of the room closed, effectively blocking any sound transmission. Anne couldn't hear any of their conversation.
She can go out now and no one will stop her.
A child's parents will kick the child out of the study when they are working. If you insist on going in, they may not beat you, but they may also get angry and scold you afterwards.
Besides, Anne's parents are not here yet.
So Anne finally chose to stay quietly in her room. She had never been the type to cause trouble—otherwise, she wouldn't have become one of the Vatican's bold and confident posters. But Erica's face kept appearing before her, causing her to involuntarily type a string of gibberish in her email to Shirley Joyce.
The inbox was empty; Shirley never replied.
Anne wasn't even sure if she was still alive, although the Vatican assured her that Aunt Shirley was still recuperating in the hospital, but was not available to see anyone.
In this society... in this world, when they want to cover up something, who can detect something wrong and dare to speak out? Even if she is a descendant of Saint Anne, so what? Before she actually takes power, it is just a title, nothing more.
The red-haired girl changed her posture impatiently and continued to write the email. It was the only thing she could do now.
**
"I don't think you hate humans as much as you think." Azathoth said.
He was the only one in the room who could say such things to Hugo without a care in the world.
Erica, who was doing her homework, calmly took out two earplugs from the drawer and put them on.
Wendy silently took out a pair of in-ear headphones. They were the zoo souvenirs Igor had just bought her, with a half-finger-long leopard stuffed animal hanging on them.
The frantic sound of rock music rang in her ears, quickly drowning out the sound of the bionic man's fury.
"—Wha! What!" Hugo turned over and glared at Azathoth, "What do you mean?"
"The Holy See contacted Marshal Gonger, who in turn contacted Igor to relay this information." Azathoth sat on the semi-open balcony, enjoying the cool moonlight. A melodious symphony played on his mobile device, providing background music for their conversation. "The Holy See has discovered that our identities are questionable. They'll probably contact Erica soon. You've been waiting for this day for a long time, haven't you?"
"Yeah." Hugo rolled his eyes. "To make the war just. Even when children fight, their parents will blame the one who started it first. I have to give them some leverage."
"To justify your actions? I thought you wanted to find a chance to play with them."
"I was playing a trick on them!" Hugo corrected. "When they thought they had discovered something, I pretended to be the fish that was caught. The result? Everything they knew was what I was willing to reveal. The enemy thought they had victory and could reap the spoils at any time, just like an insect trapped in a pitcher plant. Only when death comes will they realize how foolish they were."
"...Death?" Azathoth repeated the word thoughtfully. "Is this what you wish for?"
He raised the corner of his mouth from an angle that Hugo couldn't see, and called out a name in Igor's helpless eyes that saw through everything: "Ulysses Valen."
Azathoth's voice was not loud and the tone was not high.
But two minutes later, the man he called came out from the basement, sweat still on his forehead, and said in a flat tone, "You called me?"
Williams followed him, mouthing to the crowd that he was exhausted and unconscious.
"-I'm clear-headed." Yuri looked back at Williams.
The android raised an eyebrow.
"Your occasional behavior is easy to guess." Yuri's stiff cheeks twitched, not knowing how to evaluate Williams's Hugo-like nature that sometimes appeared beneath his gentle exterior: a love of harmless pranks.
The human turned around and bowed to Azathoth: "I'm sorry to trouble you."
Azathoth looked at his face, which, although still a little listless, was obviously more energetic than before: "How do you feel now?"
“……?”
"Music." The god pointed to the mobile device in his hand. "Can you hear it?"
"able."
"What does it feel like? When the real and imaginary music overlap?"
Yuri gradually understood, thought for a moment, and replied, "Order has returned to chaos."
Azathoth nodded.
"Hugo wants to issue a mission." He ignored the stunned expressions of the two androids present and said to Yuri, "This is a perfect way for you to repay him for his help."
Yuri's heart tightened. "What's the mission? I'll do my best."
"It shouldn't be difficult," Azathoth said. "It has enough power to simplify complex enemies and weaken their strength through early deployment."
"Well!" said Hugo, "I haven't promised anything yet!"
"Isn't that what you said?" Azathoth said innocently, "Planning, bait, extermination, death. Now I have brought you a ready-made killer, so you don't have to do it yourself. This has been your long-cherished wish, and I am trying to achieve it for a friend."
“…”
Yuri's pupils constricted slightly due to nervousness.
In fact, he also imagined where the train he was forced to board would go.
I never expected the first stop to be so exciting.
Azathoth said it very bluntly. In Yuri's eyes, he was not the type to joke about such topics. So taking the lives of his own kind was no longer a simple matter like killing an NPC in a game.
Are you kidding me? A thought flashed through his mind. Whether or not this was of the same race was irrelevant. Even if the evil god didn't exist, wouldn't human society still be in an endless state of internal conflict? Murderers and civil wars will never be eradicated. So the main contradiction of this order is actually:
Are you willing to obey His command to take another's life?
Are you able to bear the condemnation of conscience and the consequences of this behavior?
What if the other party is a criminal who has committed all kinds of evil?
What if this person died and no one felt sad or wanted revenge for him/her, or even applauded?
Hugo's relaxed expression vanished along with his angry one.
It looked Yuri up and down, like a butcher selecting a piece of pork. After a moment, it said, "Okay, this is indeed a good opportunity."
Yuri remained silent and asked no questions.
He actually wanted to ask, who was that person and why?
But does this question make sense?
Is war meaningful?
Does pain have meaning?
The wounds tore and healed repeatedly.
He was stabbed by Arthur a few days ago and almost died in the deep sea. Why did all this happen?
He couldn't figure it out, so he simply didn't ask anything.
Igor stood silently in a corner of the room, his arms folded and his brows furrowed.
In fact, he is probably the person with the least psychological burden here except Azathoth.
Because they are accustomed to war, even if they feel uncomfortable, they are also familiar with how to use interests and positions to measure whether a person deserves to die - those who go against this are enemies, and this continues until the other side is no longer able to continue fighting, regardless of whether it is just or not.
What's more, Azathoth will not allow the situation to deteriorate to an irreversible point.
...This is the most important thing.
Neither child heard what was being discussed.
Until a voice call request came through to Erica's mobile device. She looked back blankly at the serious-looking adults, took off her earphones, and asked, "Should I answer it?"
Hugo asked, "Who's calling?"
In fact, it knew it the moment the vibration sounded.
"It's Mr. Ford."
"Yes, Ford Hill, I'm afraid there are a hundred Vatican interrogation and negotiation experts standing behind him." Hugo had just finished speaking when Williams walked to Erica with soft steps, like a dancer and a black cat, and leaned over to press the answer button.
Erica blinked, looking a bit innocently confused.
Wendy looked at Igor uneasily and received a reassuring look in return.
Ford Hill's steady voice came over the comms: "Erica?"
"I am here."
"Did you go to the Capital Zoo with your friends the other day?"
"Um."
"Well," said Ford after a pause, "who was the man you were travelling with that day?"
Mr. Commentator silently roared in his heart: Who else could it be! Damn it!
If he wasn't in the enemy's (eh) base camp, surrounded by a group of people who couldn't even cover up the smell of gunpowder without taking off their weapons and claimed to be from the Holy See, Ford would definitely throw this swear word in their faces coldly and menacingly.
I've had enough.
The evil god, too. Do you think Erica is the one who breaks through every time? How many beasts would actually bother a little girl? He's the one who always suffers!
Fuck the Vatican.
Because I don’t dare to insult the evil gods in my mind, I can only curse the official legal organizations.
"…My friends," Erica replied. "What's the matter?"
"Something bad happened before, and the authorities wanted to meet with them to inquire about the situation on the scene."
After saying this, Ford Hill felt like laughing. Regardless of the Vatican's wishful thinking that Erica was just a pure white lamb who had gone astray, as Erica's nominal guardian, Ford knew exactly how loyal the Omega girl was to the God! They were doomed to return empty-handed because Erica would never agree—
"Okay." Erica said in a sweet and unconscious voice on the phone.
Ford was stunned for a moment: "What?"
Fortunately, the people from the Vatican were also stunned, so his stunned look at this moment did not seem abrupt.
"I said yes," Erica repeated. "Is it because of the older sister who fell into the water? I remember the brother who came with us rescued her. Will anyone give him a banner?"
“…”
Gresham nudged Bertie with his elbow and said sarcastically, "You want a pennant? Margarita can make you one any time."
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