Chapter 917: Church Movements
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 917: Church Movements
"Um... the money..."
Seeing Muen staring at the newspaper in silence, the little brat approached him nervously. He even pointedly blocked the mouth of the alley, as if afraid Muen might suddenly "fly the coop" with the paper.
"You think I’d stiff you for a measly newspaper?" Muen rolled his eyes.
"No, no, no, of course not! Though some lowlifes really do try to dodge paying for a paper, how could I ever think that of a guest like you? I was just worried about you, sir..."
The brat scratched his cheek, his expression looking remarkably sincere. "You look a bit pale, sir... Did you catch a chill in your sleep? I know an underground doctor—highly skilled, reasonable rates, no cheating the young or the old. As long as you have the coin, he can treat any kind of patient..."
"Alright, alright, I’m fine. If I went to a shady underground clinic like that with you, I’m afraid the 'steel kidneys' I worked so hard to train would be harvested."
Muen pulled out a coin. "Here."
"How could that be? That guy is a bit of a crook, sure, but at most he’d just drug you and sneak a little blood to sell. He wouldn't dare harvest a kidney..."
The brat muttered to himself, but his eyes suddenly lit up when he saw the bill Muen produced.
It was another large denomination note!
What incredible luck! Two days in a row he’d run into a sucker—no, a "big spender"—who would pay this much for a single newspaper!
He really hoped more big spenders like this would show up!
"Thank you, Master! Thank you! I wish you good health and may all your wishes come true!"
The brat took the bill and bowed repeatedly in excitement. With this money, his goal could be reached ahead of schedule...
"Skip the bowing."
Muen held out his hand. "Give me my change."
"Huh?"
The brat froze. "Cha... change?"
"What else? Do people never ask for change when they buy papers from you?" Muen gave him a strange look. "How are you still alive if that's how you play it?"
"No... I... of course I give change. But no one ever uses such a large bill..."
The brat stared at the paper money in his hand. The numbers on it were so tempting. In all his time selling papers, only that big brother from yesterday—the one who looked a lot like the "super villain" in the news—had been so generous.
He had assumed this guy, who slapped down a large bill today, would be just as extravagant. He didn't expect...
"Don't think you'll run into an easy mark every time."
Muen gazed at the sky at a melancholy forty-five-degree angle and whispered to himself:
"After all, having experienced the cold discrimination and vicious slander of the Kingdom, I am no longer the kind soul I once was..."
Now, he had leveled up. He was stronger, colder. He was already a ruthless killer...
*
"First, I'll organize the current situation, then I'll find those bastards from the Salvation Society and kill them all."
Muen made up his mind.
Though he knew "killing them all" was unlikely.
After all, he couldn't even get past the Repentant Witch right now, let alone the insane task the Old Loli gave him to kill the Salvation Holy Lord, Gaius.
But—
Whether he could win in a fight was one thing; whether he could stop the Salvation Society's conspiracy was another.
A true killer relies on his brain.
"A little obstacle like that won't stump me."
Muen flicked the small stack of worn-out change the brat had dug out from some gods-forsaken corner, walked into an underground tavern, and tossed the money onto the table.
"A glass of your strongest Fuerji Liquor."
"Sorry."
The drowsy bartender merely lifted an eyelid.
"Special times. A prohibition order has been issued in the city. A legitimate establishment like ours only sells non-alcoholic beverages. Would you like an orange juice? The money you gave is just enough for one."
"Ninety-eight for an orange juice? That’s a bit of a rip-off, don't you think?"
"Hand-pressed, all-natural, green, and pollution-free. Take it or leave it."
The bartender yawned, looking like he couldn't be bothered with this ragged-looking Slav.
"I see..."
Muen tapped his fingers on the table and smiled.
"Since you're not selling, I'll just drink the glass someone else is treating me to."
"Treating you? Hah, no one here is going to treat a foreign Slav..."
The bartender sneered with disdain, intending to kick this annoying fellow out. But as he caught sight of that deep-featured face in the dim light, his expression suddenly shifted as if he’d remembered something.
"No one would treat a foreign Slav, except..."
Muen leaned in and lowered his voice.
"The Behemoth."
"I... I'm so sorry!"
The bartender's attitude did a complete 180-degree turn. He was even trembling from sheer terror. "I was blind! Your... your drink is in the back, sir! It's already prepared! Please, follow me!"
"Thank you."
Muen tipped his hat politely, then quickly rattled off a list of requirements:
"I want hot water for a bath, food, a detailed map of this city, the locations of the Kingdom Royal Guard outposts, and... the locations of every Church cathedral in this city! As fast as possible!"
"Yes!"
The bartender said shakily, "I'll go prepare them for you right away!"
*
Half an hour later, when Muen—now somewhat cleaned up—arrived at the room prepared for him, he found Tyren waiting there in person.
"You... you're alright! I thought you..."
Upon seeing Muen, Tyren immediately stood up to greet him. Even though they had only been apart for a night, he seemed more anxious than anyone.
If it weren't for the fact that they were both men, he probably would have rushed forward with tears in his eyes to give Muen a "bear hug of love."
Of course, this wasn't because he had actually developed deep feelings for Muen. It was because he had just taken over Raskin's territory and men; he was in a critical period of stabilizing internal unrest, so he naturally needed the support of this "Dark Emperor" more than anyone.
"What could happen to me?"
Muen sat on the sofa, picked up a wine glass, glanced at it, and said to the nearby bartender, "I don't drink. Get me an orange juice. Remember, green, pollution-free, and hand-pressed."
"Yes!"
The bartender wiped his sweat and hurried away, his legs shaking as he left the room.
"That disrespectful waste, I think..."
Tyren narrowed his eyes at the bartender's retreating back, murderous intent gradually rising.
"Tyren."
Muen crossed his fingers and looked at him expressionlessly.
"I am no tyrant."
"Yes! Understood!"
Tyren first stood at attention, then rubbed his hands together and leaned in flatteringly. "You truly are merciful, sir. If it were me, that guy would have been encased in concrete and dropped in the river long ago. But I suppose this mercy is why you are destined for great things."
"Stop the flattery. To be honest, that thuggish face of yours looks a bit disgusting when you try to smirk," Muen said, rolling his eyes.
"Disgusting? How could I... I have always respected you, more than anyone else..."
"Fine, just stay away from me for a second!"
Muen really couldn't stand this guy's transformation from the Porsis Behemoth into a Porsis Husky. After kicking him away, he spread out the highly detailed map of the Royal Capital and asked:
"Back to business. What did you think happened to me just now?"
"No... nothing."
Tyren rubbed his backside, wincing. "I was just afraid you’d been caught by the Church. To be honest, before I came here, I was thinking about how to organize the men to go to the Church and rescue you!"
"If you had the ability and courage to snatch someone from the Church, you wouldn't be wagging your tail at me right now."
"What are you saying, sir? My loyalty to you is eternal..."
"Shut up and get to the point."
Muen massaged his temples. "Why did you think I was caught by the Church?"
"Well..."
Tyren's expression sobered, finally becoming serious.
"Actually, it was a message from the brothers I left stationed around that area... The cemetery you visited earlier has been completely locked down by the Church!"