Chapter 20 Little Monster Joins Aurora Club

68
In his left hand, Admitsol carried the luggage prepared by the director's wife, and in his right hand, he held a bunny made of scraps of cloth made by the children in the workhouse. He was wearing a half-new formal suit made by the best tailor in the workhouse. He was once the best tailor in Tingen, but lost his left hand in a car accident a few years ago. Without a job to make a living, he had to come to the workhouse to work as a tailor-making teacher to teach the children.

The gentlemen and ladies passing by occasionally frowned at his clothes, but Admisol did not notice. This was when he looked the neatest and most decent.

"The Pilgrimage Sect...Aurora...The Aurora Society."

Admisol took a few steps, stammering, and took out the note prepared by the dean's wife from his pocket. It clearly stated: After arriving at Backlund Station, look for a gentleman wearing a black hat, a blue coat and brown pants. He will be the one who will receive you.

His seemingly unfocused eyes slowly scanned the people around him, one circle, two circles, and finally saw someone who met the requirements. The man was reading a newspaper, using the newspaper as a disguise to secretly pay attention to him. Seeing Admisol looking over, the gentleman pondered for two seconds, folded up the newspaper and tucked it under his armpit, and walked straight through the crowd:

"Are you Ademisol?" the man asked in a low voice.

He nodded. So the man lowered his hat a little more, half turned to lead the way for him: "Come with me, your dean should have said it."

Admithal nodded again, followed the neatly dressed and shabby gentleman out of the station, walked onto the streets of Backlund, turned into a secluded alley, repeated this several times, and stopped outside a house.

The gentleman knocked on the door at a fixed rhythm, and there was a knock from the other side. The gentleman thought for a few seconds, knocked a few more times, and the wooden door finally opened. The person who opened the door was a very ordinary-looking girl. She nodded to the visitor, and then led the two to the wall of the hall. After turning on the wall lamp, the cabinet automatically moved away, revealing a dark passage. At this point, Ademisol could no longer remember anything.

"This is a temporary base. We'll tell you the location of the headquarters after the handover is completed." The black-haired man said, "You came at the right time. We are very short of people. Don't be speechless when you meet the adults later."

After turning a few corners and walking down a flight of stairs, the two finally arrived at a relatively wide underground space. Dozens of candlesticks illuminated the tennis court-sized space. Several people in black cloaks were registering, and several people dressed like workers like Mr. Black Hair were reporting their work to a leader-like black-robed man.

The black-haired man walked up with Admisor to the hooded black-robed leader and said respectfully, "Mr. Z, I have brought the person recommended by the Pilgrimage Sect."

The man called Mr. Z put down the report in his hand, looked up at Ademisol who was standing there stupidly, and waved his hand to let the others who were reporting back temporarily. He turned his head, as if waiting for something.

The black-haired man quickly said, “Bring out your letter of recommendation!”

Admisol was stunned for two seconds, then bent down to open the suitcase, took out a letter from the neatly folded clothes and handed it over. Mr. Z checked the wax seal, opened it and took a quick look, confirmed the authenticity of the last seal and put it aside.

"Your superior should have told you that although the Pilgrimage Sect has many Beyonders of different paths, there is no precedent for cultivating the Destiny path. In order not to waste your talent, she handed you over to us." Mr. Z explained in a relatively simple way, "She guaranteed you, your organization prepaid the cost of your Sequence 8 potion, and you can be arranged to become a Sequence 9 Beyonder within today. As long as you work hard and accumulate merits, we at Aurora will not deduct your potion. Do you understand?"

Ademisol nodded, not quite understanding.

"Well," Mr. Z asked again, "almost everyone in the Aurora Club is working for the glory of the Lord. We don't want to keep idle people. But your boss said you are very outstanding. Tell me what you can do."

"I……"

The director's wife asked him this question several times on the way to send him away. Now, whenever he heard these key words, Admisol could answer instinctively without thinking. He said fluently but vaguely, "I grew up in a welfare home of a charity foundation. Because I was born too spiritual and couldn't live a normal life, I became a worker in the poorhouse when I grew up... I know a few words, can read and write, I can sew bed sheets and quilts, cut simple clothes, make some furniture by hand, and have experience in taking care of patients and cooking..."

"Very good, you are exactly the talent we need now!"

Seeing that he was about to continue talking, Mr. Z immediately raised his hand to interrupt him. He made a gesture, and the man in a black robe watching at the table next to him immediately lowered his head and began to fill out the form. After he finished it, he handed it to Mr. Z.

"By the way, let's go through the process. I still have to ask you a question." Mr. Z took the form, opened the ink pad, and asked, "What is your belief?"

Admithal answered without hesitation:

"Goddess of the Night."

Mr. Z froze in his stamping motion, and the rustling basement suddenly became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. All the cultists present turned their eyes and focused on Mr. Little Monster's face. Admisol was unaware: "...The dean's wife said that if anyone asks me this question outside, I should answer like this."

Phew. Almost everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The squirming flesh shrank back, the shadow that spread to his feet retreated, the hand holding the talisman was taken out of his pocket, and the honorific name that was half-reading was also stopped. Everyone lowered their heads and turned around, continuing to murmur and do what they had to do.

"...We are insiders, you don't need to... Never mind, you won't understand even if I tell you. You probably won't wake up until you reach Sequence 8." Mr. Z held his forehead and stamped the form with his other hand, then pushed it to the black-haired man. "As usual, take him to the East District to find Miss Maria, the head of the Pilgrimage Cult, and let her arrange where the "monster" will work."

"Okay, Mr. Z." The black-haired man showed a happy expression. He bowed slightly, not daring to delay, and quickly pulled Admisol, who had not yet reacted, out of the basement through another door. After they left, Mr. Z rubbed his temples, picked up the report he had just read halfway, and spoke politely to the round-faced man with glasses in front of him:
"Mr. Favored One, you seem to have always been dissatisfied with our arrangement, but this is the Lord's oracle. If you don't want to work in the poorhouse, we can contact the person in charge to transfer you to the welfare home."

The corners of Lanevus' mouth twitched fiercely, and he spoke with a hint of sarcasm: "...What if I still don't want to? The two people who asked me to join the Aurora Society didn't say that I would have to be a volunteer after I came."

"This is the Lord's will. As His favored one, you should follow it, not deliberately disobey it and cause us losses." Mr. Z, who was sent to manage the personnel department because of his serious dereliction of duty in the God's mission, did not look kindly on this God's favored one who came from the sky. "If you don't want to, we won't do anything. At most, we will ask you to go back to the headquarters to rest. You can continue to eat and drink, but you cannot leave the designated area."

"Oh, all right!" Lanevus sneered. "I'd rather lie down comfortably in my little villa than watch you hang out with the dirty, low-class people out there every day. You're no different at all!"

He turned and left, and the two guards at the door immediately followed him.

Mr. Z stared at his back and frowned unhappily.

69
"Fors." Xio shook his sleeping companion twice, "It's time to get up! It's already eight in the morning!"

The brown-haired lady, who was craving for the warmth of the bed, hummed a few times reluctantly, trying to bury herself in the bed to avoid the call of her roommate. But the other party didn't buy it, and directly pulled the bed higher, letting the cold air of the early morning in mid-September directly into the bed: "Get up! Fors! You swore last night that you must get up early today and write 5,000 words to submit it next week! Why can't you get up now!"

"Writers' work... can't be called procrastination... How can I write a manuscript without conserving my energy..." Fors muttered in a half-asleep state. After struggling with sleepiness for a long time, she finally opened her eyes with a movement that was several times slower, sat up, and yawned.

"Oh, I'm so stupid, really. I never thought that a playwright of Mr. Vaughan's level would condescend to attend last night's small gathering of best-selling authors." The female writer said dejectedly, "When he saw me, he asked me about the manuscript... There is still a month left! Don't add so much tension to me!"

"Only nineteen days left," Quinn retorted calmly.

"..." Fors suddenly sobered up, but became lazy again in the blink of an eye. "Then I don't need to rush to write it now. Oh, right, right, Xiu, did you say yesterday that you were going to attend the Extraordinary Assembly today?"

Xio didn't care how abruptly she changed the subject. After all, the arbitrator herself was worried because she had chanted the name of the suspected evil god last night and saw the existence of the suspected evil god in her dream. However, she had been hiding her worries, not wanting her companions to notice.

The arbitrator nodded, "Yes, we'll start this afternoon." Before she finished speaking, she became a little nervous, "Fors, do you think the person who sold the formula for the Sheriff will still be there? Can I find a Beyonder to do the purification?"

"Don't worry, don't worry, it will go well." Fors comforted her friend and yawned again. "...Xiu, are you going out to buy breakfast? Go to the bakery on the corner and buy me a meat and egg sandwich, plus a newspaper. I'll start writing after breakfast."

"You said the same thing last time, and then you spent the whole morning reading the newspaper and would rather stare blankly than write a single word on paper."

After making a few small complaints about his roommate, Xio put on his coat and opened the door. Before leaving, he turned back and reminded her, "Get up quickly!"

Fors agreed readily. As for when Xio left, she fell back into bed and continued to sleep until Xio came back from buying breakfast and woke her up. Then she ate breakfast, drank coffee, and read the newspaper leisurely for the whole morning before going to the rally. She didn't write a single word, so that's another story.

TBC
----------

*Today is the day that Klein is assassinated by a hunter, who is about to kill the ambassador.

*Everyone at the Aurora Club internal recruitment meeting was shocked: Shouldn't faith be between the Abyss Angel and the Lord? Why is there a Night Goddess? You said you believe in the Temperance Angel and we all think you have worked hard!
Oh, little fool of destiny, that's all right.

(End of this chapter)

previouscatalognext