Chapter 908: An Old Trick
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 908: An Old Trick
"A 'concerned citizen'... are you joking?"
The crippled priest wore a stony expression. "Do you really think your status as a mobster won't get you hauled off by the security team?"
"Don't I have you, old man?"
Muen spread his hands. "My identity can't handle the light of day, of course, but wouldn't it be fine if you just stepped forward when the time comes? You could even have the officials solve the problem for you. Wouldn't that be better?"
"Heh."
The priest let out a cold sneer. "I’ve lived here for decades. I know exactly what those useless, seat-warming bastards are like better than you do. If calling them actually worked, why would I have contacted the Porsis Gang in the first place?"
Saint Bran Phazesia was a massive city. It was precisely because it was so gargantuan that the roots of its rulers could not reach every inch of the land.
Perhaps they had once reached deep, but beneath decades of superficial peace, those roots had long since rotted away in silence.
It was just like Belland before it had been purged.
No—under decades of stagnation and a facade of calm, this corruption might be even more severe.
"I think this is different. No matter how corrupt those people are, they should still know how to prioritize," Muen said, rapping his knuckles against the coffin. "They might ignore small matters, but they certainly won't turn a blind eye to something big. Even rot needs a warm, damp, comfortable environment to keep festering, doesn't it?"
"But with only those idiots from the security team..."
"If the security team won't do, then we switch to someone else. The organization the Kingdom uses to maintain order in the capital shouldn't be limited to just them."
"You mean..."
"I recall the Kingdom's organization for handling 'special incidents' is called... the Eye of the Saint, right?"
Muen leaned closer to the priest and suggested, "Why not just report it directly to the Eye of the Saint?"
"No!"
The crippled priest reacted violently, shaking his head frantically. "Absolutely not!"
"Why?"
Muen raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. "Did you do something so heinous that the Eye of the Saint would have you drawn and quartered if they caught you, old man?"
"I'm not afraid of the Eye of the Saint. The problem is the Church!"
The priest explained, "These so-called special incident response organizations are nothing more than groups targeting evil believers or supernatural events that ordinary people can't understand. Except for the Empire's Silence Bureau, which is completely independent, almost every other country's organization is established with the support of and reliance on the Church! I'm afraid the Eye of the Saint will report this directly to the Church and have their people come. If that happens, I..."
"I get it!"
Muen clapped his hands in realization. "So you did do something so heinous that the Church would have you drawn and quartered if they caught you!"
"You... what nonsense are you spouting!"
The priest's cheek twitched. "Young man, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't just say whatever you want. If I were truly a wanted criminal of the Church, do you think a lame old man like me could have survived until now? Do you really think the Church's Tribunal is as incompetent as the capital's security team?"
"Fair point..."
Muen rubbed his chin. "Then it's strange. Why are you so afraid of the Church? If you were expelled for breaking a rule, are you not even allowed to ask for help later? The Church isn't that petty, surely."
"This... this matter is a bit difficult to talk about."
The priest's lips trembled, and a faint look of embarrassment—and a strange hint of... bashfulness?—appeared on his aged face.
"Old man, this concerns your safety..."
Muen patted the priest's shoulder, looking the picture of righteousness. His cold, solemn face, coupled with the shadow cast by his hat, made him look like someone who couldn't care less about gossip. He looked like he was simply a gentle listener. "Feel free to tell me. I'm not the type to wag my tongue, and I certainly won't hold any prejudice against you."
"...Sigh, actually, it wasn't that big of a deal."
The priest thought for a moment and finally decided to come clean.
"I simply chose to confess my love to the person I cared for... right in front of the Goddess."
"A confession?"
Muen blinked. "Even that isn't allowed?"
"Of course not. As a member of the clergy, how could I allow private emotions to pollute my faith? That is a taboo written in the scriptures." The crippled priest nodded seriously.
"Is that so..."
Muen suddenly thought of Liya and felt a pang of guilt. "That's too much. Emotion is human nature; how can it be snuffed out like that? This is entirely the Church's fault... Wait, I don't think I've ever heard that ordinary clergy aren't allowed to fall in love."
In Muen's understanding, only the Saintesses, whose duty was to guide the believers, and the Choir, who served the Goddess exclusively, were required to remain celibate for life to maintain their purity.
As for other clergy, Muen hadn't heard of such restrictions. After all, the Goddess the Church served bore the title of "Life." How could she strictly forbid her followers from nurturing new life?
"You're right. Ordinary clergy aren't strictly forbidden from romance; they just need to step down from their duties serving the Goddess. As for why the Church singled me out for expulsion..."
The priest tilted his head back at a forty-five-degree angle and exhaled a melancholy cloud of smoke.
"It's probably because the object of my affection was a cute thirteen-year-old boy."
"Oh, so that's it. I thought... Huh?"
Muen's body froze. Even his nerves, hardened by countless life-and-death crises, stalled for a moment. He looked at the priest with a blank stare. "What did you say?"
"I said I loved a boy at the time. Because I couldn't suppress my feelings, I confessed to him right in front of the Goddess when they came to pray. As a result, the boy's parents broke my leg on the spot."
The crippled priest gently stroked his mangled leg, sighing with nostalgia.
"Later, the Church refused to heal me and expelled me directly. Ah, when you're young, you often pay a heavy price for a moment of passion. Looking back now... I was indeed too impulsive. I should have waited until the boy was an adult before making my move."
"..."
Muen looked at the hand he had resting on the priest's shoulder. A mysterious chill traveled up his fingertips, making him shiver as goosebumps erupted across his skin.
"You animal."
Muen instantly backed away several meters, his voice low and eerie. "I didn't expect you to be such a beast, old man."
"Didn't you say you wouldn't have any prejudice?" The priest rolled his eyes.
"That was before I knew you were such a monster! To... to a thirteen-year-old boy..."
Muen looked disgusted. "That's too much. Being into men is one thing, but how could you lay a hand on someone so young? You're even more of a beast than the perverts I've met before! Damn it... I want to drag you back to the Church for judgment right now!"
"You mobster kid... you've actually got a decent heart."
The crippled priest gave Muen a meaningful look, his gaze lingering particularly on Muen's distinct Slav features. This made Muen go on guard again, wondering if the old man's tastes had shifted toward older targets as he aged...
"Alright, I'm joking."
The priest stubbed out his cigarette, his tone suddenly shifting. "How could I possibly do something like that?"
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
"It means I made up everything I just said. It was just a little lesson for a certain kid who likes to pry into other people's pasts."
The priest stroked the heavy scripture on his chest, as if remembering a story from long ago. His eyes were complex. "How could I do such a thing? If I did, I would never be able to return to the Goddess's embrace..."
"Really? You really just made it up?"
Muen was still skeptical. "You're not just fooling me now so you can catch me off guard, are you?"
"Whether it's true or not, does it affect your plan?" the priest suddenly asked.
"Of course it does."
Muen straightened his collar. "As long as you aren't some criminal, even if the Church actually catches you, I can probably bail you out. I can make sure you go back to being a reclusive gravekeeper instead of rotting away in a Church dungeon for the rest of your life."
"Oh? You have that kind of power?"
"Probably. I have a bit of a connection within the Church."
"Heh, a 'bit of a connection' won't sway those stubborn zealots. Their methods for dealing with sinners are crueler than you can imagine." The priest shook his head with a smile, thinking the mobster kid was being naive.
"Is that so?"
Muen thought for a moment, then pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "Then I suppose it's not a 'bit' of a connection, but a connection this big."
"What use is a connection this big?"
"Didn't I say? As long as you didn't actually go after a little boy or commit some unforgivable sin, then as long as you help me, I can guarantee the Church won't do anything to you."
"You kid..."
The priest narrowed his eyes. He began to realize that the mysterious man before him wasn't just talking nonsense. He seemed to truly have some immense backing.
Did he know a Bishop? Or was he perhaps the illegitimate son of a Bishop?
"I see. It seems you aren't just a common mobster, and you aren't just here to help me handle this incident."
The priest pulled out another cigarette and lit it.
In the decades since leaving the Church, he had grown dependent on tobacco and strong liquor. The priest who once stood in the holy light had ultimately fallen to the point of needing such things to numb himself.
But compared to some Bishop who secretly fathered an illegitimate child, he supposed he wasn't that bad.
Sigh. It seemed that aside from His Holiness the Pope and Her Highness the Saintess—those closest to the Goddess—mortals mired in the world could never truly escape the corruption of desire.
"Speak."
The lame priest exhaled a cloud of smoke. Within that hazy mist, he seemed to see the past he was unwilling to mention. "What exactly do you want to do? And how do you want me to cooperate?"
"It's simple."
Muen paced around the warehouse, suddenly grabbing a long pole from a corner. He tested its weight, making a casting motion, and then asked with a smile:
"Old man, have you ever gone fishing?"
*
Night fell again.
The Capital. Inside a highly concealed underground stronghold.
The long silence was suddenly broken. A voice, slightly anxious yet steady, came from outside the heavy metal door.
"Captain Krit."
"What is it?"
The middle-aged man in the room was currently studying a precise ancient artifact. He didn't even look up.
"News from the West District cemetery."
The person outside paused, their tone turning grave. "Someone reported that a terrifying incident involving evil cultist activity is taking place there."