If Miss Sharon hadn't appeared tonight, would Mr. A have attacked him?
--------------------------------
"You know the identity of that person in the shadows?" Sharon could tell Hastur was hiding something.
"Just a guess. I wonder how much Miss Sharon knows about the Aurora Order?"
"Madmen, a bunch of madmen, suicidal madmen."
"..." A very fitting description. It seemed Miss Sharon had also dealt with members of the Aurora Order.
Hastur gave a wry smile and said, "Yes, they are all madmen, and I may have already provoked them."
"You are a noble; in the city, you'll be relatively safe."
"Has Miss Sharon ever heard of Mr. A?"
Sharon nodded, her expression becoming a bit solemn. There weren't many places in Backlund for Beyonder gatherings, and the one organized by Mr. A was something she had heard about from other Beyonder's, and it had a decent reputation.
"I attended an Beyonder gathering held by Mr. A once…"
Hastur didn't hide anything and recounted in detail his participation in that Beyonder gathering, particularly emphasizing how Mr. A inexplicably took a liking to him.
Sharon listened quietly and gave her judgment: "Perhaps there is something about you that you don't yet understand, something only people connected to it can see."
Could that really be the case?
Hastur sighed. He had guessed that before but thought it was unreliable. Apart from the Hall of Stars, there was nothing special about him.
With the specifications of the Hall of Stars, it was obviously not something Mr. A could see through.
According to himself, it may take a King of Angels, meeting face to face, to possibly sense the existence of the Hall of Stars.
"If there really is something special about you that he values, then he won't act rashly against you. For now, you are still safe."
"Perhaps."
Being targeted by a lunatic like Mr. A, Hastur didn't dare bet on him staying calm forever.
What if Mr. A suddenly went crazy or decided on a whim to come after him?
Sharon thought about it but didn't say anything else. Her own situation in Backlund wasn't great either, and silence filled the air.
The crackling of the campfire wood continued until Maric returned, breaking the silence.
"Sharon, you're here too."
"Tonight is really a good night."
"1,000 gold pounds per person, nobles' money is so easy to earn!"
Maric happily handed Hastur 1,000 gold pounds, a check worth that amount.
A thin piece of paper, yet carrying immense weight.
Hastur carefully accepted the check, glanced at Sharon's expressionless face, and coughed lightly: "Miss Sharon, if it weren't for you backing us up tonight, Maric and I would've been in danger. Half of this 1,000 gold pounds is your payment."
Sharon's eyes brightened, but she said nothing and just calmly nodded.
"..."
Maric was dumbfounded. After thinking for a while, he gritted his teeth and said, "I'm also willing to pay half of my share!"
"Mm."
Sharon narrowed her eyes slightly and also nodded calmly.
Hastur, who had been secretly observing Sharon's subtle expressions, chuckled to himself. He clearly noticed Sharon's breathing quicken for a moment.
She hadn't even needed to ask, yet had received 1,000 gold pounds for doing nothing in particular, essentially earning free money.
This made Sharon look at Hastur with a bit more warmth.
She knew Hastur did this both out of genuine gratitude for blocking Mr. A tonight and as a way to offer her a favor.
"If you need any help, you can have Maric inform me."
After some thought, Sharon gave her promise to lend assistance. Hastur smiled. "Alright, thank you, Miss Sharon."
"Did something happen?" Maric stared blankly at the scene before him, feeling that something was off between these two.
...
A week later.
By the lake, a newly built small wooden cabin stood. Though not big, it had two windows and a door, making it quite cozy.
In front of the cabin stood two bamboo poles with a crossbar, from which hung more than a dozen fish.
Outside the door, Hastur sat on a stone, using worms as bait while patiently fishing by the sparkling lake.
Fishing alongside him were Maric and his squad of zombies.
Though zombies lacked intelligence, their unmatched patience made them excellent fishers.
In the two fishing competitions held previously, Maric's zombie squad had always won.
Hastur leisurely enjoyed the beauty of nature but secretly sighed; this barbarian role-playing still lacked something.
During this time, he tried his best not to use modern tools, living primitively, even building a small cabin on a whim.
Yet the digestion of the Barbarian potion was slow, even sluggish.
This made him realize that trying to digest the Barbarian potion by role-playing this way would be difficult.
He needed to find a new way to play the role.
He once again reviewed the Barbarian's acting guidelines and realized his problem was that he wasn't interacting with rules and order.
Living in the wilderness like this only made him a wild man, not a barbarian.
A true barbarian shows disobedience, resistance, and rebellion when facing established rules and order.
To successfully play the role of a barbarian, the help of rules and order is needed.
Only in Backlund's urban area, in crowded places, in noble circles, where the rules and order are strictest, can the Barbarian potion be digested faster.
He still had to go back.
Hastur sighed and casually flicked his wrist, pulling up a two-pound crucian carp that struggled violently.
"Your catch today isn't as good as mine."
Maric laughed and patted the simple bamboo-woven fish basket beside him, which already contained seven or eight big fish.
"Sometimes I need to let you win once; otherwise, if I keep beating you, it's no fun and gives me no sense of achievement."
"Tsk tsk, poor skills but a big mouth."
"You can't even beat your own zombies, yet you dare mock me?"
As he spoke, a group of zombies all turned their heads toward Maric, seemingly agreeing with Hastur's words, which left Maric embarrassed.
"Just the two of us, one-hour limit, let's see who can catch more fish."
Maric said as he dumped all the fish in his basket back into the lake.
They had been catching too many fish lately; there was no way he and Hastur could eat them all.
"Come on, let me show you the skill of a fishing master."
Faced with such a challenge, Hastur had no reason to refuse.
Just as the bet was about to start, Butler Neil hurriedly came down the forest path.
Maric flicked his fishing rod, realizing today's competition would not happen.
"What's wrong? Another invitation from Count Richard?" Hastur slowly put away his rod and fishing line.
These past few days, that Count Richard had been trying to invite his neighbor to his manor; after Hastur politely refused, the count repeatedly suggested visiting in person.
For this generous count, Hastur didn't yet want him to know his identity, and who knew if that so-called "Lord" of his still visited him in his dreams.
"There are two letters, one from Lord Greg, one from Lecturer Fron of Backlund University, both urgent."
"Let me see."
Hastur took the two letters Neil handed over, placed one on his thigh, and opened the other.
Greg's letter wasn't about anything important, just asking what he had been busy with lately and why he hadn't returned.
He also informed him that his weekly wage at Bavart Bank had increased from 10 pounds to 15 pounds.
Having recently acquired 500 gold pounds, Hastur was already somewhat immune to such small salary increases.
He put away Greg's letter carefully and then opened Lecturer Fron's letter.
The letter was long, but it mainly conveyed one thing:
Professor Wayne had gone missing after heading to the Sunrise Almshouse and had been unaccounted for three days, requiring Hastur's help.
Hastur's expression grew solemn. He stood up and ordered Butler Neil to prepare the carriage at once; he needed to return immediately.
"A big problem?" Maric asked curiously.
"Yeah, quite big. Interested in coming with me to the Sunrise Almshouse in the dock district?"
Hastur extended the invitation; with Maric at his side, resolving the Almshouse matter would be easier and safer.
If it weren't so urgent, he really wanted to lecture Professor Wayne.
For no reason, he had to go to that Almshouse. He had long been told it wasn't a good place, and that Deputy Director Bard was not a good man.
And now, here they were, he was truly missing.
"Fine, I'm free anyway, but I need to arrange my guys first." Maric nodded and watched Hastur leave.
After spending time together recently, their friendship had deepened, and Maric would not refuse to help if he could.
Soon, Hastur was alone in the carriage.
He had already told Maric the destination, and Maric would travel in his own way; they agreed to meet at a tavern in the dock district.
As for Lecturer Fron, he was already waiting at the Almshouse.
"Didn't expect to go back to that Almshouse again."
Hastur had always been cautious about the Sunrise Almshouse; even during his previous visit, he sensed something strange about the place.
But back then, he was only a Sequence 9 Lawyer, lacking the ability to protect himself, so he dared not investigate deeply.
This time, with Maric accompanying him and being a Sequence 8 himself, he should be able to completely resolve whatever was happening at the Almshouse.
Hastur slowly closed his eyes and began deducing possible anomalies at the Almshouse in his mind.
According to the information he had, Director Darn, who had escaped into the secret passage, was already dead, clutching a box of gold coins when he died.
The police concluded that Director Darn died of fright, but Hastur didn't believe that.
The most likely explanation was that Director Darn had been silenced, just like old Jeff before him; they both died because they knew too many secrets.
The person most likely behind all this was Deputy Director Bard.
And that dream Director Darn had about planting coins to grow a golden tree, perhaps it had an even deeper meaning.
If planting coins could really grow a golden tree, then what about planting children, what would they grow into?
Just thinking about it made his scalp tingle.