Chapter 461: The Man in the Dark-Red Trench Coat

"How's the pressure?"

"Do I need to top up your water? Let me do it! Oh, want some fries? Open wide, ah~"

Down in the inn's first-floor restaurant, the fraudster stared at Ashe, who had been aggressively eager to please him since sunrise. Gently turning away the fry Ashe was trying to force-feed him, Iger let out a long, heavy sigh. "Just spill it. How are you planning to ruin my dignity this time? Do you want me to hypnotize you into finding a girlfriend, or are we rebuilding the Four Pillars Cult?"

"How could you even think that?!" Ashe declared with absolute conviction. "I just realized I've never properly thanked you for everything, so I wanted to work on our bonding. Purely as an academic discussion, though, how long does your hypnosis actually last, and how effective is it?"

"You really don't have an ulterior motive?"

"None! But Iger, how old are you this year anyway? What are your plans after the Woven Festival ends? Have you ever thought about settling down, starting a family, or building a career?"

"Oh, I see how it is." Iger dragged out his words knowingly. "But why are you only turning the interrogation on me? Harvey isn't any younger. Why don't you ask him?"

"What's there to ask? His answer is guaranteed to be that he wants to dig up every single grave in the Gospel."

Harvey swallowed his mouthful of sandwich and shook his head. "That is nothing but the uneducated prejudice of an outsider. Flowers are only beautiful and captivating when they are in full bloom. Afterward, they are merely withered remnants. I have zero interest in graves."

Leaning forward, the necromancer continued, "For us, the forty-eight hours immediately following death are known as the Ephemeral Flower Period. During this window, livor mortis gradually sets in, internal organs undergo autolysis, and the corpse can still produce extraordinary reactions when exposed to external stimuli. It is the absolute ideal period for true appreciation. The Blood Moon never preserves corpses for longer than forty-eight hours for a very similar reason."

Ashe suddenly realized something profoundly disturbing. Despite Harvey casually spouting the most sickening concepts imaginable, it hadn't affected his appetite for breakfast in the slightest. Worse, everyone else at the table was completely unfazed. Even Lys was happily munching away.

Ashe decided, Yeah. After the Woven Festival ends, I am definitely putting some distance between myself and Harvey.

He really didn't want a future where his first instinct upon seeing a dead body was aesthetic admiration rather than normal, healthy terror.

"In any case..." Ashe shifted back to kneading Iger's shoulders, his voice dripping with warmth. "Iger, surely you want to settle down too, right? This life of constantly running and wandering... You must be exhausted."

"Hmm..." Iger relaxed his shoulders, thoroughly enjoying the cult leader's VIP massage service. "True. I've never been particularly fond of traveling. It really is about time I properly managed my own life."

Ashe nodded like a bobblehead. "Exactly! Spot on! And the absolute best place for you to plant your roots is undoubtedly—"

Iger reached up and clamped a hand over Ashe's mouth. "Exactly. It's managing the Four Pillars Cult."

"?!"

Iger removed his hand with a smug smile playing on his lips. "Just kidding. Though, the Rusty Crow's faction of the Four Pillars Cult actually does fit my career goals perfectly. Even without the backing of the Four Pillars Deities, I always intended to establish a secret organization. I'll gradually amass reputation, power, and wealth, carving out my own empire right here in the Gospel."

"But wouldn't marrying into the Belldet family instantly give you all of that?!" Ashe burst out, completely giving up the charade. "And on top of that, you'd even get an adorable... I mean, a genius daughter who is just as cute as Lys!"

Only then did Lys turn away with a look of reluctant satisfaction.

Iger rolled his eyes. "That is all complete nonsense fabricated by the Gospel. Anphel and I would never end up like that. Besides, why do you keep trying to force this marriage on me? What do you stand to gain from this?"

Ashe's gaze drifted toward the ceiling. "I'm doing this entirely for your own good. Of course, if you happen to become filthy rich and powerful in the future, and you feel like helping out your former cellmates, well... that would be wonderful too."

Glancing between Ashe and Lys, Iger instantly put the pieces together. He turned to Annan with an annoyed sigh. "Have you found any jobs on the surface?"

Annan nodded. "I have. One position is in city sanitation, one is performing as a mascot, and the last is a restaurant server. We'll head out right after breakfast." ℴ

Ashe blinked. "Wait, Miss? Are you not going?"

"Of course I'm going."

"But there are only three jobs."

"Exactly. Only I, Iger, and Harvey are working today. You and Pankey are staying at the inn," Annan locked eyes with Ashe, her expression turning dead serious. "Your sole task today is to keep Pankey company. The two of you cannot be separated for even a moment. Understood?"

Seeing the deep anxiety in her eyes, Ashe immediately realized what was happening. "Is this because of the Assassination Rankings?"

Annan confirmed. "Yes. Pankey is ranked second on the Assassination Rankings. He is also the Echoer whose ability was nullified by 'you.' The Isa Imperial Family is highly likely to send an assassin to mimic how you took him out, forcing the future dictated by the ranking to become a reality, just like Heliphas and Rogue from the Heretical Arts Rankings."

The blue-haired butler hung his head in deep shame. "I'm so sorry... I've done nothing but become a burden to everyone."

Ashe reassured him confidently. "Don't worry about it. The Isa Imperial Family wouldn't dare kill me because they need to protect the Gospel's absolute credibility. So as long as I stick to you like glue, their assassins won't dare show their faces!"

Turning back to the rest of the group, Ashe gave a thumbs-up. "You guys just focus on grinding and earning money. Leave the home front to me!"

While his logic was technically sound, hearing those words come from a professional cult leader made it sound strangely like a scam.

After breakfast, the Funeral Agency squad split into two teams and went their separate ways.

Before heading out the door, Iger pulled Ashe aside. "Have you seriously not thought about your life plan after the Woven Festival ends?"

"It's not like I don't have plans—"

"Then you don't," the fraudster cut him off, pausing for a brief moment. "If you're interested, you could always come work for me."

Ashe blinked in surprise. "Work for you? I don't know how to scam people, and I'm not exactly a fan of lying either—"

"I have zero intention of letting you ruin my business," Iger said, shooting a sidelong glance at the white-haired girl. "You're just looking for a stable place for you and Lys to settle down, right? You two can just stay at the headquarters and study sorcery. You won't have to lift a finger."

Ashe's eyes narrowed with immediate suspicion. "Just like that? You don't have some kind of hidden motive, do you?"

"I actually like Lys quite a bit," Iger's eyes drifted toward the upper right, looking anywhere but at Ashe. "I can't exactly watch her continue wandering the streets with a deadbeat like you, can I? Obviously, a startup won't make us rich overnight, but feeding two freeloaders is well within my budget."

Ashe nodded in absolute, shameless agreement. "That's so true. Who wouldn't love Lys when she's this adorable? Man, I never expected the day would come when I'd have to rely on my daughter's cuteness to support the family... In that case, I will accept your charity without a single shred of hesitation!"

***

After bidding farewell to the working crew, Ashe and the remaining trio returned to their hotel room. For a brief moment, the blue-haired butler, the black-haired cult leader, and the white-haired little girl just stood there, staring at each other in awkward silence.

Then, Ashe made a subtle, rapid-fire clicking motion with his thumbs, mimicking an invisible game controller.

Pankey understood instantly. Walking over to his suitcase, he hauled out a vintage gaming console along with an entire box of dusty cartridges. A few quick connections later, the game was projected directly onto the wall, ready for them to play to their hearts' content.

Ashe called out, "Lys, you have to finish today's Gospel Basic Education lessons before you can join us!"

"How am I supposed to study when you're literally gaming right next to me?" Lys retorted, crossing her arms.

Ashe thought it over. "Fair point. Tell you what, I'll sit down and study with you this afternoon. But you're absolutely not allowed to slack off until then."

"Deal!"

The three of them spent the rest of the morning happily lost in retro games from a bygone era. Even Pankey, whose face had been clouded with melancholy since breakfast, found himself cracking a genuine smile.

But the peace didn't last for Ashe. After suffering his ninth consecutive soul-crushing defeat against Pankey in Sorcerer Duel 14, he let out a miserable groan, tossed his controller onto the bed, and threw his hands up in total surrender. "Case closed! There's no way I killed you because you tried to assassinate the Empress. The real reason must be that you beat me so badly in this game that I framed you just to get revenge!"

Pankey chuckled. "To be honest, Mr. Ashe, I also find it incredibly hard to believe that you would ever kill me." His smile softened. "It feels just as impossible as imagining a version of Mr. Harvey who hates corpses, or a Madam Quinna who actually enjoys acting sweet and spoiled."

Ashe blinked, suddenly suspicious. "There isn't some hidden, terrifying double meaning behind that sentence, is there?"

"Of course not." Pankey lifted his teacup, taking a calm sip. "However, if you do end up with Miss in the future, please try to keep your distance from Madam Quinna."

Ashe shook his head with a laugh. "The Gospel just pulls these predictions out of thin air. You're worrying way too much, Pankey. Besides, you know better than anyone that your Miss has a grand purpose driving her. Romance is just a side dish to her. Her ambitions are the main course. Men would only slow her down."

He stretched and stood up. "It's getting close to lunchtime. I'll head downstairs to the restaurant and bring us back some food."

"Sorry to trouble you."

Lys patted her skirt and hopped off the bed. "I'm heading back to our room to use the bathroom!"

Once the heavy click of the door signaled he was alone, Pankey stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the subterranean city. Despite it being noon, the world below ground remained locked in a perpetual, synthetic night, entirely detached from any natural day-and-night cycle.

Pankey knew that in the very near future, the Funeral Agency's actions would trigger a massive upheaval, not just in Nabistin, but across the entire Gospel. Countless lives and destinies were about to be turned completely upside down.

Yet, he felt entirely powerless to alter the course of events, nor did he have any desire to interfere. He was Dolan's butler, and his loyalty belonged strictly to the will of the Funeral Agency. For now, he simply wanted to cherish whatever quiet, ordinary days he had left.

And then, like a block of ice, he would silently melt away into the water, leaving no trace behind.

Realizing they would be eating soon, the blue-haired butler walked into the washroom to clean his hands.

Suddenly, the running water from the faucet sputtered and died. The overhead lights flickered once, casting brief, eerie shadows. At that exact moment, the faint, metallic groan of a door hinge echoing from the main room cut through the silence. But there were no footsteps.

Pankey slowly raised his head. There, reflected perfectly in the bathroom mirror, a figure stood right outside the doorway.

The man wore a dark-red trench coat, with his face completely hidden behind a mask.