[The Ram Chronicles] (Volume 4) (12) Author: gesid368570

Author: gesid368570
Word Count: 10251

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(Volume 4, Chapter 12) Total Chapter 60

(Nier, October 7, 1900, 9:00 AM, slum)

"They...will...be alright."

"Yes."

In the cramped underground space, candlelight flickered, illuminating a corner near the wall.

A young girl sat quietly on the edge of the bed.

Her skin was fair, and her figure slender; her head was bowed. Her hands were placed at her sides, tightly gripping the sheets.

Beside her, several people stood silently, nodding slightly in agreement as the girl spoke.

Eve was speaking of a matter of life and death concerning Millie and her two other sisters.

These women, entrusted by Millie to stay and protect Eve, believed without a doubt the words of this girl of unknown origin
.

With just a few casual words, her unease vanished, along with all her concerns about the safety of her friends, respected figures, or
loved ones.

They felt no confusion or awkwardness at this sudden, unsolicited trust.

"So, who will come?"

"Mr. Simon, Sister Linhua, and Miss Haiya. Haiya will definitely come."

"Then, let's go and wait."

"Okay."

"I think I'll stay here alone for a while—thank you, everyone, I'll be up in a moment."

"You're welcome."

The group turned around in unison, their faces blank, and one by one, they descended the ladder back to the ground, leaving
Eve in the simply constructed yet comfortable basement.

Once everyone was gone, the top of the ladder was lowered, and Eve immediately sprang into action.

She rose and went to the several bamboo pipes embedded in the walls for ventilation,
removing , and then scattered some kind of powder hidden in her pocket throughout the room.

The climate of Ram City is unsuitable for bamboo growth; this lightweight and ingeniously constructed "wood" is only
produced in a few remote areas of Charon and Nils. Its resistance to decay, hollow structure, and yet strong and durable properties make it
an irreplaceable building material favored by the poor (though it's not cheap). Besides
being used for temporary scaffolding or as pillars for low-rise buildings, it is also frequently used to make megaphones and
ventilation ducts.

Here, the bamboo tubes buried in the earthen walls serve this purpose, reinforcing the basement structure while also providing
ventilation—a double benefit.

Eve covered her mouth and nose with a damp cloth, held her breath, and waited for the air in the room to dissipate. After a long while, she removed
the cloth and took a deep breath.

"Merciful Lord, cough cough—"

Compared to the broken and disjointed sentences she uttered in front of others, Eve, alone, regained her normal speaking speed
and tone—though she coughed occasionally.

"We are blessed and protected; may the spirits of heaven and all living beings on earth forgive my sins; bless
me, that I may care for my companions, spread the light of the gospel, illuminate the way forward, and guide the lambs in the dark valleys into
the temple—"

Eve knelt on one knee, facing west, her hands clasped to her chest, reciting some rare hymn with utmost
devotion.

Suddenly, a sudden, inexplicable palpitation struck her, and Eve coughed a few times. She instinctively turned her head, looking at the empty wall
behind her —the direction of Ramu city.

She extended the index and middle fingers of her right hand, gently placing them on her chest.

Her fingers traced a path, from top to bottom, then from her left shoulder to her right.

"Mary... I hope you are safe—Vivian, Mary, I will not let you down."

(Neil, October 7, 1900, 9:00 AM, Morton's Hotel)

"Oh, long time no see, busy lately?"

At the back entrance of the hotel, the head chef was inspecting a cart full of vegetables,
fruits .

The young man, busy wiping his sweat, saw the head chef look up
and greet expression. Startled, he quickly turned around—with his back to the road, he couldn't see what was behind him. What puzzled him
was that he hadn't noticed someone approaching so closely before the head chef noticed. And he himself
was completely unaware.

The head chef's "level" was far beyond that of ordinary people—a fact he
had learned in his first week working at the hotel—not to mention, he was facing the street.

Damn it, how come I didn't hear a single footstep—the young cook, lamenting his own incompetence
, turned around and secretly wrapped the handkerchief he was holding near his forehead twice around his fingers, just in case.

"It's alright. Uncle, is 'Grandpa' Morton here?"

"The boss is lying down up ahead."

A light and melodious voice echoed in his ears. Seeing the girl in front of him waving to him as a greeting,
the tense young cook couldn't help but relax.

So it was Sister Haiya—it's normal that he didn't notice.

Several years ago, when this young man was still a highly skilled thief, he had tried to break into this
hotel .

Imagine this—you think you've secretly lurked outside, peeking through
the window, and suddenly everyone inside—whether cleaning, dozing, or
lounging turn their heads and stare intently at you. This
scene, more like a horror story, was this young man's own experience.

From then on, he "voluntarily" stayed, working there until today.

Some time later, the young thief—who was now a kitchen helper—experienced
some things and understood many things.

One of them was that everyone in this hotel, except for Morton, was no ordinary person.

Comparing Sister Haiya to them, it's only natural to conclude that Haiya
is a "monster."

God of War! This description is not an exaggeration at all.

"Could you please go and call him, sir? I... I'm not really comfortable showing up in the shop."

"Oh? Oh, it's because of a customer, right? Okay, I'll go call him right now—you! Push the dishes in, I
'll check them later!"

"Yes, yes, yes—" Taking advantage of the head chef turning around, the "inexperienced" young cook, unconcerned about being
seen by Haiya, secretly stuck his tongue out at his stern boss.

Haiya smiled slightly.

The young cook also grinned at Haiya.

"Boss."

"Heh~ I've been lying down for too long, my neck is a little sore—let me see, what are we having today?"

As if he had been waiting there, before the head chef could even turn around and take two steps, a withered old man, yawning and looking
like , swayed unsteadily and appeared before everyone.

He strolled over slowly, casually rummaging through the vegetables on the cart, skillfully
picking out a few insects that were feasting under the leaves and throwing them on the ground.

"The fish and meat are fairly fresh, but these vegetables are a bit old, only good for soup."

"Yes—don't embarrass yourself in front of the head chef, come in with me!"

The young cook could only shrug helplessly. He lifted the handlebars, skillfully maneuvering the large cart, turning
it around, and following behind the head chef, steadily pushing the ingredients for the day into the kitchen—all the while
bracing himself for a scolding.

"Charles's still the same old Charles."

"Yeah, that kid."

Before Haya and Morton could finish speaking, they heard a cry of "Ouch!" from the young
chef —judging from past experience, he'd probably been
hit on the head with a large wooden ladle used for ladling soup by the head chef.

"You can hear the back door even from the front desk, Morton, your ears are still as sharp as ever."

Haya hadn't arranged to meet Morton there.

Morton's sudden appearance was simply because (while dozing off at the hotel front desk) he'd noticed
Haya's movements at the back door—a truly astonishing skill that Haya was already used to.

"Hmm, hmm, have you seen the guests here?" Morton wasn't buying into Haiya's flattery; he immediately
guessed her intentions.

"Yes, a bunch of annoying guys."

"Hmm, hmm."

"Especially that woman!"

"Hmm, hmm."

"She's obviously not a decent woman!"

"Hmm, hmm."

"A vixen!"

"Hmm, hmm."

"Simon hates women like that the most!"

"Hmm? Hmm."

"So, Morton~ you have to help me—"

"Hmm—no." Morton sniffed, casually refusing.

"Don't worry, I just want you to 'help' this woman stay away from Simon."

"Hmm—"

"Or, you can 'help' Simon stay away from this woman, is that alright?" While Morton
was thinking , Haiya kept glancing hostilely and murderously towards the second floor of the hotel.

"..."

"Please!"

"...The guests will be back very late, don't make a fuss." "

So that means you agree? Thank you, Morton!"

"..." Morton remained noncommittal. He bent down, leaned close to Haya, and whispered, "Do you really think that
as long as you serve these guests well and find that little girl, they'll go home?"

"I don't think it's that simple," Haya sighed.

"Good that you understand—let me ask you again, what will you do after you find that girl?"

"It's safer to hand her over to the mayor—but it's also good to get some information from her first

—how was yesterday?"

"These people haven't stopped since day one. They were wandering around the slums all night, it doesn't
seem like were entirely looking for someone. Who searches like that? It'll be strange if they find her—in the city center,
it's the same old story, I just deal with them casually."

"It's not so good here. The slums and suburbs are too big, I can only collect as much as I can. Land deeds are
rare these days, most were destroyed or lost during the war—the city government's records
are a mess. Plus, Xiao Ke has already secretly collected quite a bit, I don't even know which plots are owned
and which are unclaimed."

"Hmm, Miss Xiao Ke…should I go and 'remind' her?"

"Maybe...no." Hya smiled bitterly, unwilling and helpless. "If it were before, killing that little
bitch wouldn't have mattered. But now, Simon will definitely be angry with me."

"...That brat."

"Simon isn't a brat at all—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know—the land deeds aren't going to fly away
. I'll just go get them after she's done her job."

"That's right. Judging by the current trend, she might save us a lot of trouble—just keep a close eye on her. Anyway,
before the mayor comes back, changes in ownership and registration of large land parcels won't be approved."

"That's fine, that's fine. It's good to have something to worry about, but don't be soft-hearted." Morton looked up, his gaze fixed
on a corner of the sky under

the blinding sunlight. The huge moon, its outline barely visible, hung in the sky, huddled in the dim shadows.

"Don't worry, at worst, I'll kill them all except Simon." A bright smile
appeared .

"...Yesterday, a few more people moved in."

"Huh? Who? Men or women?"

"There's been a lot of trouble in the city." "

I heard—Dr. Margarita is a good friend of mine, if it's her—I can tolerate it."

"—I'm talking about the fire."

"That's no big deal, the police won't find anything anyway."

"...Haiya, it's a mistake to rely on someone else for information, even if it's Simon
—Lin Hua only 'rested' for a day, and you've become half-blind and deaf."

"That vixen, she should suffer a bit!"

"That's enough. Out of everyone, only two are people I misjudged—you shouldn't have
let Simon 'take care of' such valuable people."

"I know, Simon will definitely kick that bitch aside like a rag this time, and then I
'll take her down, and then all the old and new grudges will come together—"
Haiya was very happy at the thought of Lin Hua, who had lost Simon's protection, falling into her hands.

"You'd better—"

"You'd better chain Lin Hua up and make her work properly, instead of seducing men all day!"

"..." After a moment of silence, Morton pointed behind him, "Last night, it was the Fents who checked in. My
inn getting more and more lively."

"Oh, I've heard of them." Haiya remembered that she had received intelligence about them before, "The Fents'
military officer , right? What's his name, Hazar? Like an idiot, swaggering around in the slums with his identity clearly displayed. If he can
find that girl, I'll change my mind about Haiya."

"Don't underestimate these 'idiots'—they slept for less than five hours, and then went to find someone else."

As if recalling some pleasant memory, Morton smiled, "If there are many of these people,
they will become incredibly powerful, powerful enough to change the world."

"Well, if you think they're powerful, then they must be really powerful."

"Thinking back to the past, I also—never mind, let's not talk about it. Has anyone reported Mi'er's matter to you?"

"Hannah is at least sensible; it was her people who informed me about this."

"What are you planning to do?"

"The area around the warehouse is sealed off, and the docks over there are closed too. The slums can't withstand infectious diseases. If it really
is an 'epidemic,' we'll just have to burn it all down—Simon will definitely hate me."

"Has anyone been infected?" Morton stroked his long beard that reached his chest and frowned.

"Well, I think it's more like poisoning—Hannah and the others didn't get sick, so it shouldn't be
an infectious disease , right?" Hya crossed her arms and pondered. "The doctor has examined her, should I go and take a look
?"

"...Haiya," Morton waved his hand, "Don't go yet, don't go near Mi'er, find
someone to check on her first."

"Why?"

"...I feel."

"Okay, I don't know what Lin Hua is thinking, she must be worried sick about Mi'er, arranging for them to see each other
'last time' is good—I'll go first, don't forget to tell that vixen to stay away from Simon!"

"Okay, okay, I'll try, go ahead."

Haiya took a few steps back, looked up at the second floor, bit her lip and stared for a moment. She first made a
face , then spat several times, before reluctantly leaving.

After walking about ten meters, Haiya slipped into an alley by the roadside, her movements incredibly nimble.

Morton's gaze followed Haiya's figure the entire time. Even after she disappeared from sight, the
wrinkled old man's eyes remained fixed precisely on Haiya's current
location .

"Boss, shall we come in?" A young cook, clutching his head and looking distressed, appeared behind Morton.

"I'll be out for a bit. You guys take care of the shop."

"Okay, come back soon, brother. You need to rest more."

Morton turned halfway around, smiling—his smile was kind and peaceful—and gently pushed Charles's hand away,
pinching the sore spot he was clutching.

"Huh, it doesn't hurt anymore?"

"Don't wait for me for lunch. Dinner—I'll try my best."

"Okay—okay, boss. I just learned a new dish. You have to be back tonight."

Only after watching the back door of the inn close and bolt did Morton leave with a sense of relief.

He walked slowly along the narrow road, his back hunched, head bobbing from side to
side, until he reached the edge of the area, where brick and wood met the shacks.

Then, the old man disappeared.

A middle-aged man, neither burly nor thin, neither tall nor short, appeared in
the sunlight, walking briskly into the depths of the slums.

(Neil, October 7, 1900, 11:00 AM)

Simon walked quickly along the narrow road formed by the haphazard, scattered shacks.

His men reported that about thirty policemen had arrived at the horse station on the east side of the slums that morning. They
were now stationed, or rather, guarding the main road leading into the slums from the east—Barnes was indeed a clever man; he
had anticipated the possibility of Simon sneaking back into the slums.

There were many entrances to the slums, but only one road was passable by carriage, and even then, only a
narrow custom-made carriage could barely pass.

Simon didn't want to waste time with the police or get into a conflict, so he
disembarked at the northeast entrance to the slums and walked to where Mia was—a long walk indeed.

Simon walked quickly, and Justine followed calmly behind. Because of the time constraint, Justine hadn't had
time to change, but on this sticky dirt road, she didn't let her long dress from that morning slow her
pace at all—upon learning that Simon was going to pass through this area, she had removed her floor-length gown as soon as she got off the carriage,
wearing only stockings as she followed her master.

The tight, thin stockings realistically outlined the curves of Justine's lower back, hips, and long legs, and with
each step, her firm, shapely buttocks propelled her thighs, making her walk light and agile on the rough surface.

This had little impact on Margarita, who was standing beside Simon—she might glance at him occasionally
and sigh with envy—but for the group of young people in white coats following closely behind Margarita, the "
impact" was far too intense—especially for the young men who made up half of them.

These were Margarita's students, usually sedentary, carrying or shouldering large and small packages,
following their respected mentor with difficulty yet unwavering loyalty.

A whole group of neatly dressed "white-clad men" strode through the slums. Such a sight hadn't been seen for
many years. Now, only some of the older people in the slums, or
the "more learned," understood the meaning of "white-clad men."

Doctors and nurses, medical officers, all sorts of medical personnel—these people had truly been away from the slums for far too long.

Simon, with his incredible speed, could have easily scaled the winding road and reached Millie in no time
. However, he chose not to, instead keeping pace with Margarita and her students,
advancing steadily at a normal speed.

The safety of everyone was just as important as Millie's and the others' lives. Even if Simon didn't care about contracting
the "disease" himself, as a leader, he had to prioritize the safety of everyone in the slums and
ensure the medical team Margarita had hastily assembled reached the source of the "disease"—along the way, Justine and...
Margarita reached this agreement and together they persuaded the anxious Simon.

A young girl leaped from a rooftop on the left side of the road.

"Master, the police are not making any moves."

"Understood, keep a close watch."

"Yes."

While reporting the situation, the girl remained perfectly in sync with Simon's left rear. After reporting, she
immediately climbed onto a shack on the side of the road and disappeared from sight.

Similarly, another girl leaped down, this time on the right.

"Master, all roads from here to where Mi'er is have been cleared."

"Thank you for your hard work. Please ensure the safety of the doctor you brought from outside the slums."

"A special person has been assigned to accompany him, and there is also covert protection."

"Well done."

"Thank you, Master."

Almost a carbon copy of the previous girl, this time the girl came in the same way and
disappeared .

Afterwards, several more women appeared and reported the developments inside and outside the slums to Simon.

Margarita remained silent, walking briskly without wavering.

Justine did the same.

Simon, with an air of nonchalance and practiced ease, directed the stunningly beautiful women with practiced ease.

Only Margarita's students became restless. The

female students whispered amongst themselves, overwhelmed with envy at the alluring figures of the women who had just glimpsed them, hidden beneath their tight-fitting clothes

.

The male students, even more so, felt their blood boil—mostly due to
the leg-revealing tight-fitting clothes typical of the slums.

Not to mention the women's beauty.

"Did you see today's newspaper? What exactly happened between the teacher and that boy—"

"I don't know, but that boy is so handsome!"

"Keep your voice down! Do

n't let the teacher hear." "Really? The teacher and he really have 'that' kind of relationship?"

"Did you see it? Did you see it?"

"So beautiful, they're all beauties!"

"I'm now in complete support of opening a primary school in the slums—I shouldn't have voted

against it last month."

"Me too."

"Quiet!"

A stern rebuke silenced the restless students instantly. Whether it was the boys swallowing their saliva or
the girls who were naturally fond of gossip, they all bowed down to the pressure of the top teacher on the mainland.

Margarita wasn't afraid of gossip.

What worried her more was Simon and Justine's prior instruction to "keep quiet and avoid unnecessary
trouble."

Simon's feelings were complicated.

While torn between learning about Mia's condition as soon as possible and ensuring the safety of medical personnel, Simon
couldn't help but marvel

at how important and effective the intelligence system Lin Hua had created was.

Even after temporarily escaping Lin Hua's control, this "system" could still maintain a certain degree of
acceptable "inefficiency." According to Justine, if the intelligence system hadn't malfunctioned, Simon would have known about these things

at least three hours earlier . Simon glanced at Justine, and he suddenly had a thought—Lin Hua hadn't deliberately arranged for Justine to be by her side without a reason. After Lin Hua was imprisoned by Simon, Justine's every word and action, every move she made, constantly reminded Simon of Lin Hua's importance. Fine, fine. Although unwilling, once Lin Hua had seen Mi'er, he would let her go. At worst, he could restrict her workplace to her home, making it easier to keep intelligence under his watchful eye. "Master." The male students' eyes were wide open, while Simon, lost in thought, didn't notice that another exceptionally beautiful woman had caught up with him. "Pattaya, tell Hannah—thank you, she handled it well." "Yes, I'll pass it on—she seems a little afraid you'll blame her." "Afraid? When has she ever been 'afraid' of me?" Simon smiled helplessly. "Miel's situation is related to her—but I always feel that this was deliberately orchestrated by someone." "Hannah thinks so too. She asked me to remind you to be wary of that—" Pattaya brought her lips close to Simon's ear, "—that blue-haired little girl." "...Hmm, where is Hannah?" "Well—Hannah is trying to persuade Linhua to go see Miel; this might be their last meeting." "That's right—what do you mean? Persuade?" "Yes," Pattaya said, looking puzzled. "I was there too. Linhua seemed—very anxious, but— " "She refuses to see Miel? Really? At a time like this?" "Yes, and she won't explain why. Luckily, Miel kept calling two names while unconscious, one of which was Linhua." "I understand. Go tell Mia—be careful not to catch it—please hold on , I'll be there soon! Her brother Simon will be there soon—" "Uh—Master." Pattaya's expression was quite "interesting," a hint of mockery in her eyes as she seemed to be barely suppressing a laugh. "Master, the other name Miss Mia called isn't yours—let me think, it 's something like, 'Eve'?" "Huh?" Simon scratched his head, instinctively averting his gaze to avoid the awkward situation—to his left was Margarita, who had caught on to something, to his right was Justine, equally puzzled, and behind him, the whispers were growing increasingly intense. Not to mention Pattaya, grinning mischievously, beside him. "Master, Hannah thinks this might be some kind of trick to lure you out." "...Interesting. In the end, I've become the prey?" "So, this is good news—Hannah believes Millie's life is safe." "...I see. Hannah's considerations are not without merit—but Millie's suffering is real. I want that blue-haired one—I know, her name is 'Eve,' right? I want her to pay the price!" "Yes, Hannah has ordered Dora to arrange everything." "That's it, very good. I understand—after I show myself, I'll just wait for 'Eve' to jump into your trap, right?"

"Master is wise."

Simon's mood improved slightly, and he finally found some relief. He noticed Pattaya's expression again and reached out
to grab her chin.

"Pattaya, your expression just now was quite good."

"Thank you for the praise, Master." Pattaya's face lit up with joy.

"Wait for me at home tonight."

"Yes, my master." Pattaya had come alone, without Dora's knowledge, to "ask for credit," and this was exactly the moment she had been waiting for.

"Prepare those things you used to deal with Lin Hua."

"Huh? Master, have mercy! Even Hannah couldn't handle those—" Pattaya's face changed drastically. She knew
she had gone too far.

"If you're missing even one, you won't be able to get out of bed this month." Simon grinned mischievously and pushed Pattaya away,
pressing her chin against his.

"Ahem!"

Hearing Justine's reminder, Simon, realizing he had been somewhat carried away by the possibility that Mia might be saved,
turned his head.

This time, he saw Margarita, who was just as confident as he was, and
Justine, whose face was flushed with anger and growing confusion.

There were also Margarita's students, whose formation was on the verge of collapse after overhearing his conversation with Pattaya.

"Justine."

"Yes, my lord." Justine's tone clearly contained displeasure.

"You don't need to come with me. Go to my house and see Lin Hua. Make sure you find out why she refuses to go—"

Justine addressed Simon as "my lord," but always called Lin Hua "master," which naturally displeased Simon. Unable

to vent his anger in front of outsiders, he simply sent Justine to his house so she could see firsthand the "fate" of the master she
always talked about —that disobedient woman, Lin Hua.

"Yes, I also find it strange. This is definitely not what the master intended."

"If she really refuses to talk, tie her up and say I ordered her to be taken."

"I will not agree to such a thing." Justine bluntly refused Simon.

“Justine, think about it, if Hannah can figure it out, Lin Hua can certainly figure it out too!”

“…So?”

“That’s why she’s not going!” Simon became even more convinced of Hannah’s judgment.

“Yes, I hope so, I hope Millie is safe and sound—but this speculation cannot explain
why the mistress is unwilling to visit Millie. The mistress should know the relationship between the mistress and Millie.”

“Hmm, that is indeed strange.”

“Simon, I understand, Miss Lin Hua. Not visiting another
woman named Millie with whom she has a close relationship—thus, the inference that ‘Milleie’s life is not in danger’ is a necessary condition, but not sufficient.”
Just Simon was pondering, Margarita, who had completely understood the situation from the conversation, spoke up, “What I mean
is, please don’t be too subjective, nor too optimistic.”

“…What’s your opinion, Doctor?” Having been doused with cold water, and considering
the students , Simon deliberately acted somewhat indifferent.

"I've met that Lin Hua before." Unaffected by Simon's attitude, Margarita objectively and rationally
stated her opinion. "I witnessed her handling of things last time; she's shrewd,
much better than those idiots in the academy. If she were to go to the academy one day—uh, I mean, if she chose to do so, she would
have her reasons. I suggest respecting her judgment."

"...Hmm, alright, I'll listen to you obediently." Simon looked at Margarita indifferently, while
secretly winking at her. "Any other suggestions?"

"Uh, well, I, just now I was—" Finally realizing how uncomfortable this way of talking was,
but mindful of the students' gazes behind her, Margarita could only frantically wink at Simon. "—Hmm! So
—well—since someone set this up, you can't—"

"Absolutely right, so that 'Eve' will definitely show up. This time I'll definitely catch her—"

"No! You'll arrange an ambush—of course the other side will think of that!"

"Really? So what? You want me to withdraw the ambush and let them come and go as they please?"

"Based on rational judgment, I think deploying too many people would play right into their hands—right?"
Margarita herself was a little skeptical of this purely logical deduction.

"Stop talking, my mind is made up." Simon nodded to Pattaya, signaling her to leave quickly to
make the arrangements . "Don't worry, Doctor, I know now. That 'Eve' is indeed no ordinary person, but she
's just a little girl. What can she do to me?"

Margarita wanted to try to persuade him further, but Justine grabbed her hand from the side.

Justine tapped Margarita's palm a few times with her fingertips, and Margarita silently stepped back, giving up on
persuading the already determined Simon.

Ignoring the numerous clues right in front of her and the reasonable inferences they formed, Margarita could only force herself
to suppress her unease and doubts.

Trust her man—Dr. Margarita convinced herself.

(Meanwhile)

"Close all the windows."

"Close the skylights too."

"Stuff the doors with hay."

The women were busy setting up a large shed, sealing
all the exits and gaps according to Eve's orders.

"Thank you, you can go out now."

"Yes." At Eve's command, all the women moved in unison and walked out

of the shed's only exit—a very narrow door. Eve took a few deep breaths and took out some powder, a small incense burner, a tinderbox , and some kindling from her small bag. She skillfully used the tools to light a wisp of smoke. Then, Eve looked around and placed the incense burner in an inconspicuous corner of the shed. "You can come in now." The women outside filed in again. Facing the calm red-haired girl, they stood in several rows, quietly waiting for her next command. "Bring Simon here." "Yes." "Please make sure you only bring him." " But he'll surely have several men with him, I'm afraid—" "His confidants?" "Yes." "That's even better—go."

"Yes, Master."

"No, call me Master."

"Yes."

"Please, everyone, take a deep breath."

The women inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

"Continue, breathe, ten times." Eve turned her gaze to the side, looking at the incense burner in the corner of the shack.

I'm sorry, Vivi, Mary.

I'm sorry, Mia, and everyone.

Although time is near, I can no longer endure it.

From this moment on, I will use my power to save you, to save everyone.

—To save this dark world, to bring you light.

Facing west, Eve prayed, making the sign of the cross.

Hello everyone, I've been incredibly busy lately, which is why Chapter 60 is so late.

The plot's undercurrents are gradually surfacing; the slums are about to undergo a radical reshuffling, and Simon's
rule will be severely shaken.

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