With that in mind, Edward asked, "The person you want us to place in the Governor's Mansion—bring her out."
A gleam lit Flight Ken's eyes. "You've agreed?" As he spoke, he looked toward the bald Kalat.
Kalat answered with certainty, "He will take full charge of this matter."
Flight Ken hurried to his feet. "Good. Come with me."
"She isn't here?"
"Of course not. For safety, we settled her somewhere else."
Led by Flight Ken, they turned and twisted through side streets until they reached the outskirts of Mostar, where the buildings dwindled to rows of low bungalows.
There were few pedestrians; they walked a long time without seeing many people. Most residents in this district worked for Loen factories—selling their labour from dawn to dusk to earn a pittance. Who had leisure to stroll the streets?
Flight Ken pointed to a small house a few dozen meters ahead.
"Right there."
He was just about to go forward when Kalat's brows knit. "Wait…I smell blood."
"What?"
Flight Ken's face changed. He broke into a run, kicked the door in—and froze on the threshold. "How…how can this be?"
He abruptly turned his back and retched.
Inside was chaos: the floor strewn with shattered, crimson flesh and scattered viscera; unknown fluids spattered across the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Edward flicked a gold coin and, after confirming no immediate danger, stepped closer. He had to admit, even he felt his stomach lurch at the gore. "Hn. Why does this scene look so…"
He remembered: when he had lectured the pirates on knowledge of Outer Gods, some had exploded outright under pollution. It looked very much like this. So—had those in the house been polluted by the Mother Tree of Desire and ended up like this?
"The woman you mentioned—was she here?"
Edward seized Flight Ken's head with an invisible hand and forced him to look inside. The man's whole body shook. "I…I can't tell. It— they're too…urk."
"Find me something she used."
"The bedroom—that one's hers. Her things are inside."
Edward blinked into the bedroom. It wasn't as blood-soaked as the sitting room, but the same nauseating slime coated many surfaces. He went to the bedhead and, with an invisible hand, lifted a fallen strand of brown hair. "This woman is already dead."
The coin's number side came up—No.
He flashed back to Kalat's side and said under his breath, "From now on, put people on Flight Ken. If there's any unusual movement, report to me at once."
"Understood, Lord Messenger."
Edward then teleported back into the house and, using the strand of hair, performed a dream divination: This woman's current location.
He closed his eyes and leaned back. His vision turned hazy and unreal. A brown-haired woman with indistinct features walked to a pier and boarded a passenger steamer.
The scene shattered and shifted. The brown-haired woman stood on the steamer's deck, expressionless, gazing toward the distance—there, a vast island loomed.
The scene broke and shifted again. The steamer made port. The woman descended the gangway with the crowd.
Once more the vision fractured—then the dream world flushed blood-red. A colossal tree of flesh and blood loomed into view…
Edward tore free of the dream at once and forced himself awake, his eyes turning grave. That just now…was that the Mother Tree of Desire? Had "She" sensed his approach in advance and prompted the woman to slaughter the others here and flee?
And the place she fled to…Bayam?
He immediately teleported back to Kalat. "In a moment, get me a clear description of the woman's appearance. Then mobilise our people in Bayam and hunt her down with everything you have."
Kalat nodded at once. "Yes."
Edward suddenly drew his wand and asked, "Kalat, how long has it been since you stood up?"
"...I've forgotten. Seven or eight years, perhaps."
"Do you want to stand again?"
Kalat's heart lurched. "Yes. Of course."
"Then let's grant that."
A flash of light skimmed past Kalat's eyes. He had just begun to wonder when Edward said mildly, "Try it."
"What?"
He blinked, dazed for a moment, then dug his fingers into his thigh and pinched hard—
Pain.
He could feel pain!
These legs that had been insensate for years…had sensation again?
I'm really recovering? I won't have to sit in a wheelchair anymore?
Kalat's heart pounded. He clenched his jaw and tried with all his might to stand—but he had barely risen before dropping back into the chair.
Even so, the soldier behind him pushing the chair stared, stupefied.
"Your legs have gone unused for years," Edward said. "The muscles have atrophied. If you want to stand again, you'll have to rebuild them yourself, slowly."
"Thank you, Lord Messenger. Thank you, thank you."
"Thank the Sea God."
Edward continued, "Remember this: the reborn Sea God is a true deity. He may display "His" majesty and might, and "He" does not begrudge showing tenderness and mercy. Thunder and sweet rain alike are divine grace."
"So the tasks "He" entrusts to you—you must carry them out with everything you have. Understand?"
—Time to make the believers study in earnest and help me digest.
Kalat planted both hands, then dropped to his knees without hesitation.
"Praise the great Deity; our thanks to the great Sea God."
———
In the City of Generosity, Bayam.
Although they had made a tidy sum yesterday, Isabella knew they couldn't just sit around and burn through it. The rat-catching squad hit the streets early once more.
Before they left, she reminded Lilith again and again not to use her "superpower." If someone hired them to catch rats, they would go; if no one did, that was fine too.
"But if I don't use my abilities, Miss Lilith can only catch rats at night."
"Why?"
"Because rats only come out of their holes at night."
Lilith left one thing unsaid—she would also need Edward to change her back into a cat. In human form, without Beyonder abilities, there was simply no way she could catch rats.
Isabella halted mid-step. "Then we drum up business during the day and work at night?"
"Alright."
When the time came, she would quietly use magic and Beyonder powers—just make sure no one saw.
A well-dressed blond man approached. "You lot catch rats?"
Isabella immediately stepped forward to shield the others, eyeing him warily. "We do."
The blond man turned on his heel. "Come with me."
He took a few steps and noticed the kids hadn't followed. He glanced back, coolly. "Well?"
"Who even are you?" Isabella huffed. "Why should we just go because you say so? How do we know you're not some trafficker?"
The blond man ground his boot against the street, making a rasping sound. "I'm the secretary to Bayam's governor, Admiral Amyrius. If you don't believe me, ask anyone around here."
The governor?
Suspicion flickered in Isabella's eyes. Would a figure that important really come to a bunch of kids to catch rats?
In truth, Lueran felt somewhat helpless. It wasn't that he preferred to hire children—it was that there wasn't a single professional rat-catcher to be found in Bayam.
Last night, Admiral Amyrius's mistress had been resting in her bedroom when a rat burrowed into the bedding and bit a bloody streak along her thigh.
Her terrified scream had been so loud that the Governor's Mansion staff nearly thought pirates were attacking again.
By morning, the matter had fallen into Secretary Lueran's lap.
He searched all over Bayam and never heard of any professional rat-catchers—until half an hour ago, when a society lady mentioned this group of children.
Now he produced a gold coin and tossed it lightly to Isabella. "An advance. If you really can catch the rats, I can pay you ten pounds more."
"Ten pounds?"
Isabella swallowed. She had thought yesterday's seven Soli was already a fortune. She hadn't expected someone to offer ten pounds today…no—eleven in total!
That was a sum she could scarcely imagine.
With that much, they could live comfortably for a long time.
She looked to Lilith and found the girl staring straight at the coin, clearly stunned by the size of the offer.
But Isabella didn't let the number muddle her head. "We can only catch them at night."
"At night? But yesterday you—" Lueran arched a brow. "No matter. As long as you catch them."
"Is that alright, Lilith?"
Lilith nodded repeatedly. "It is!"
Hm? So this little girl is the core of the group? Or is she the one who actually catches rats?
The thought had barely formed when Lueran mocked himself—they're just kids; what's there to analyse? Even so, a sliver of suspicion remained: the children had appeared yesterday, and that very night the young lady was bitten by a rat. It was a bit too coincidental.
Could someone have arranged this on purpose?
But what could a few children even do once they're inside the Governor's Mansion?
Either way—if it truly was a coincidence, whether they caught rats or not, he had done everything he could. And if someone really was up to something, he would use this to draw in the net and catch them all.
———
The weather on the Berserk Sea was always fickle. One moment the skies were clear; the next, clouds massed, gales heaved up mountainous waves, and ships sailing within were on the verge of capsizing at any time.
Alger stood on the deck of the Blue Avenger, his feet as if glued to the boards. No matter how the wind and waves raged, he remained steady as a mountain.
He spread his arms, continuously employing the extraordinary abilities gained after advancing to Sequence 6, Wind-blessed, helping the ghost ship resist the onslaught of the storm—and, in the process, quickly adapting to and mastering the changes brought by his promotion.
After a little more than ten minutes, a heavy wave slammed the hull. The clouds over the sea scattered all at once, and within mere seconds the wind and waves subsided.
The crew of the Blue Avenger wore the weak smiles of survivors and collapsed where they stood, too spent even to speak.
Alger gazed in silence at the calmed sea. A scene of the Sea King taking action flashed across his mind. His fingers on the rail tightened unconsciously. "Not enough. This level of strength is still far from enough."
He turned back into the captain's cabin and prayed devoutly to Mr. Fool:
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era, The Mysterious Ruler above the Grey Fog, The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck—
I humbly ask Mr. Fool to pass on a message to Mr. Tower: I am ready here and can proceed to that primitive island at any time."
——
A few minutes later.
A silhouette sketched itself rapidly into being. Edward stepped out of the Spirit World with a smile. "We meet again, Mr. Hanged Man."
———
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