Secret: The years I served as a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

Chapter 107 Medici Released from Prison

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"Patrick Jason Belia" was confirmed dead, and the members of the "Mechanical Heart" came to inform Klein. After learning that he no longer had to be monitored and that he would be rewarded with at least one thousand pounds for providing important clues, Klein felt even better.

Klein, who had finally regained his freedom and was no longer protected by the "Mechanical Heart", stayed in the Krag Club until after dinner, and then took a carriage and slowly returned to No. 15 Minsk Street.

He opened the mailbox as usual and saw a new letter without a stamp.

This letter was left by Detective Isengard Stanton after his unsuccessful visit in the afternoon. He wrote:

"...I heard the advice you gave from the Mechanical Heart. Your sharpness and rigor are shocking. If you hadn't already become a Beyonder, I would even think that the 'Reader' would be the most suitable path for you."

"You are the most reasoning young man I have ever met!"

……

Klein stood in the living room and read the letter left by Isengard under the light of the gas wall lamp.

There was nothing new about this performance. It was routine and repeated the past, and it didn't even have much effect... But the advantage was that there were enough audiences, and they were all around me, so I got direct feedback... Klein held the letter and suddenly felt something in his heart.

He half closed his eyes, and felt something in his body rapidly shattering and dissipating. He also felt many illusory stars appearing around him, and felt that those bright stars had a faint attraction to each other.

In the last month of 1349, his "magician" potion was finally digested.

……

In Queen West, a carriage was moving slowly forward.

The driver's face was blurred and he remained silent. Two tall, black horses walked briskly and snorted.

Inside the carriage, Amon was playing with the huge natural ruby ​​he had just seized, thinking anxiously about what to make with it.

It was about the size of his thumbnail, pigeon blood red in color, and felt quite heavy in his hand. With a little processing, it could be made into a ring or necklace and easily sold for tens of thousands of pounds.

It is a pity that it does not contain the romantic stories and historical background that the rich pursue. Ordinary people should not know such absurd and exciting stories as "it was dug and polished from the high-quality gem mines in the southern continent, robbed during transportation, and then fell into the treasure house of the demon family for hundreds of years. It was once inlaid on a sacrificial vessel, but now it has been taken down and offered because the object of worship has changed."

Bang, bang.

A chilling sound came from the other side of him, like a blade cutting through bones.

In the almost materialized shadow, the newly promoted demon king slowly and gracefully broke the handleless black long sword across his knees into pieces, as if he was breaking a cookie. Then he put the flesh and blood of another demon angel and the intense emotions before his death into his mouth, biting it, chewing it, and swallowing it into his stomach, also as easily as eating a cookie. His movements and expression reminded people of a leisurely and comfortable afternoon tea in a sunny garden, and the contrast and contradiction between the two was weird.

His spirituality is unstable and his consumption is too great. Devouring the flesh and blood of his own kind is the fastest and most demonic way to replenish his energy.

"I have thought of it. I want to make this ruby ​​into a brooch."

Amon ignored the breath of the abyss that was so close to him, and happily put the ruby ​​into his small box. He opened the box a little, and inside it were piled up with various pearls, diamonds, crystals and colorful gems. These were the top-quality jewels he picked out from the tributes of the demon family. Some were raw stones, some had not been used, and some were pried off from other people's existing jewelry. The common point was that they were all ordinary gems without any extraordinary characteristics in them, so they were some completely useless and overly fancy decorations for the extraordinary.

"With diamonds?"

"Yes."

Edward nodded slightly, and said in a cold and deep voice: "This size is perfect for a brooch."

His face was expressionless, as he sat quietly on the cushion opposite him for a long time without moving. With the static feeling of an inanimate object, he did not feel much joy about his successful promotion to become one of the strongest competitors of Sequence 0 of the Abyss Path, let alone excitement and pride. Instead, he seemed to have finally breathed a sigh of relief.

They had just returned from the location given by the Dark Saint, where another copy of the "Filthy King" characteristic was stored.

One is two copies of Sequence One, and the other only has Sequence One and uniqueness. Now there are two Angel Kings in the Demon Path. This is truly an unexpected development.

But the other party's reaction did not affect Amon's mood. In a sense, as long as he did not take the initiative to kill himself, the stronger the foreign gods who did not have much ill will towards him were, the more they could guarantee "his own" safety.

In his opinion, rather than "changes after promotion", the other party was more like being able to finally act in his true self to a certain extent.

The Decayed King indeed thought so. The game of pretending to be a human did not make him feel any interest from beginning to end.

Humans, primates, once built their own civilization, relying on their own strength to survive for thousands of years. Weak and soft carbon-based life forms, when crushed, will ooze out warm red liquid, which is completely different from Him. Maybe there was a brief interest at the beginning, but today there is only endless boredom and boredom, and many of the puppets' malfunctions have worn out His patience:

In the beginning, it was because the memory was too real, which always caused the old survivor "Edward Vaughn" to be reproduced and destroyed many times; then the influence of the path and extraordinary abilities was increased, causing one of the puppets to be driven by instinctive ambition to break away from His control and be destroyed again.

Later, after many studies and repeated tests, a qualified puppet was finally created, whose memory and nature were balanced to perfection, and who firmly believed that "he was part of God" - ha, but how could a program be part of the person who wrote it? - I have to say that this positioning was very useful, which made the puppet's thoughts somewhat similar to his own, and he would no longer be easily moved by human society and his own memory, and he could run without supervision, and he was stable and excellent.

But after living in peace for hundreds of years, it developed some sprouts of self-awareness and some vague emotions because of a human woman, which made the declining king feel very bored.

——Yes, boring.

"answer me."

"What are those things that appear in you? Confusion, loneliness, and memories of people? You'd better not tell me that you really think of yourself as a human being. How can you waste your energy on things that are not planned?"

"But I think my behavior is logical," Edward answered him. "Adela is dead, and I feel lonely. This is normal."

"……What did you say?"

"…Adela is dead, and my behavior is logical?"

"Lonely." God said, "Why are you lonely? It is a useless emotion that we abandoned thousands of years ago."

It's stupid. And boring.

The Decayed King thought without emotion, "Loneliness." This word reminded him of the desolation of the land of birth, the stupidity of the God of Order, and the endless gloom and desolation in the memory that had been so long that it had turned to dust.

A word as light as a snowflake, after falling, was like a blunt knife cutting into His body. It obviously did not leave a mark, but it was like an old wound recurring, causing Him to feel slightly angry at being betrayed. Branca used loneliness as an excuse and shelter as poison, hypnotizing himself over and over again to rationalize his behavior. Isn't this worthy of disgust and warning? Could it be that this insignificant residue was rekindled in the interaction with a human being?

It was really boring. He had been wandering in the dark for so long, but he was able to successfully overcome everything. It was not because of loneliness or fear, nor was it any overly selfish emotion praised by humans. It was because he was strong enough and determined enough to cross the end. How could a god who crossed the sea of ​​stars be weak and afraid of loneliness?

No need for humanity, no need for followers, no need for companionship.

This was the unanimous conclusion reached by his humanity and divinity. Humanity voted in favor of destroying itself, and from then on, there was an indestructible lord on the snowfield, a god who would travel the starry sky for countless years in the future. The sentimental self had long since died, replaced by a stronger and more excellent consciousness and soul. This was a reasonable replacement, so why was there still a trace of emotion and unwillingness that lingered until today? The decadent king simply felt unbearable - a great shame, He thought that it was the clone who was contaminated by the secular world and over-acted, but it turned out to tell Him that this was self-denial!
"Why are you crying? Your power has never disappeared, and your life will never end. What are you sad about?"

——He once questioned another god like this.

"I despair of my loneliness."

——And then I got such an unreasonable answer.

"Lonely"? That's really, really, really boring.

"I thought it was a big deal. After all, you are one of my most satisfying works." He said, "Well, your failure made me realize that as long as the program has human memories, it will be difficult not to be affected. I know what to do now. I won't need puppets anymore."

A trace of surprise flashed across its face, but it did not resist.

So, He killed Edward Vaughan.

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However, it is really hard to do it myself. I hope that one day in the future I can walk on the earth with my true face, without disguise, without pretending, without acting, without having to set up a separate consciousness department to be responsible for building a persona, planning various behaviors that humans should have in my mind at any time, and participating in many social activities, pretending to be smiling every day to deceive people.

"Have you ever considered revising your honorific name?"

He shook his head slowly: "No need to rush."

Finally, He closed His eyes, fine-tuned His facial expression, took out the plain glasses He had just bought, which were one of the indispensable elements of the character design of "Edward Vaughn", and put them on.

The black tortoise-shell frame was relatively light, and it didn't feel much on the bridge of the nose. The faint blue color in his eyes faded away, and Edward pulled the corners of his mouth, slightly relaxed his straight back, leaned back on the leather cushion behind him with a touch of laziness, and smiled at Amon: "I know you are looking forward to getting the reward I promised."

"But this is not something you have to do tonight. You can come up with the idea for the brooch you want tonight and go to a jewelry store in Queens to have it custom-made tomorrow."

Amon nodded: "So what are we going to do tonight?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he heard the dull twelve chimes of the "Clock of Order". It was midnight, and the streets were filled with blood-red moonlight. Almost no one was walking outside at this time, because the winter nights in Backlund were too cold, not to mention driving a carriage slowly on the road in the cold wind in the middle of the night. If he didn't hide, even if he didn't attract the sheriff, he would attract the Beyonders of the Church.

The driver whistled, and the carriage turned and headed for Williams Street via the nearest main road.

Amon pushed his monocle and understood something.

"I'm not as eloquent as my original self." He backed off. "Can I go first? I want to put my gem down."

Edward smiled nonchalantly: "Of course."

"However, the Red Ghost's current strength may not be higher than Sequence 3. Moreover, the Aurora Society just gave me news that the True Creator visited my residence. If you go back now, you can still see Him."

One is the spiritual imprint of Medici that he didn't want to see, a historical legacy of the original body in the Fourth Epoch, and the other is the "crazy hanged man", a part of the original body's father, which doesn't seem to have much to do with him. Amon was immediately in a dilemma. After weighing the pros and cons, he put away his retreat and pretended that he had never said anything just now: "Perhaps it would be easier to face Medici, as long as I ignore Him."

8 Williams Street, Mr. Miller Carter's residence, has been renovated for two months and is now quite different from its original appearance. However, the exterior has only been simply renovated, retaining the retro style of the past years, which is a recognition of the Pound family's taste.

The carriage stopped at the gate, and the visitors entered the garden as if no one was around, and opened the gate of the mansion.

The last time I came, it was empty, with building materials and furniture piled up everywhere, either to be discarded or newly bought and waiting to be placed.

Now the gas pipes have been re-laid inside, electric lights and gas have been connected, exquisite and luxurious wallpaper has been pasted, some hard furnishings such as tables, chairs and cabinets have been placed, and a new fireplace has been built.

But there was no sign of human life inside, the tables and cabinets were empty, it seemed that Mr. Miller Carter had not yet moved in, and had not arranged for servants and housekeepers, and the workers would not stay here. This was the best, because then no one would notice the changes underground.

Following the familiar route, Edward came to the underground with ease. Amon hesitated for a while and decided to stay in the house.

Passing through the ruins of the collapsed palace and the historical relics of the Fourth Epoch, Edward once again came to the door. It wasn't too long since he last came here, and he still remembered how the evil spirit behind him had been so outspoken and provoked him. After all, after being locked up underground for more than a thousand years, it was understandable that he would have some mental illness.

Edward stood in front of the door with an attitude of comfort, understanding, respect and care, and knocked.

"Oh, this is not the law..."

Edward took two steps back and sat down on a chair.

"I suddenly don't want to let you out anymore." He said expressionlessly, "Thinking carefully, your Lord and I don't have any agreement on time. I can wait another thousand years before letting you out. Anyway, you seem to be in a good mood and in good spirits. You don't need any help."

The red evil spirit laughed twice. No matter how the other two conquerors cursed in their minds, Medici, as the leader, remained unmoved. It was obvious that he was the kind of person who would never lower himself even if he had to ask for help. But now it was a little different. Regardless of whether this demon was pleasing to the eye or not, at least he seemed to be really capable and able to get himself out. And the "promise with your master..." he mentioned made Medici have an extremely bold guess. If he could quickly return to the master's side, it would not be impossible to change his tone and argue with the demon.

After thinking for two seconds, He decided not to speak for the time being and wait and see what happens.

Medici didn't say anything, so the follow-up was easy to unfold. Edward breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and walked slowly to the door.

Since the descendants of Tudor can die in there, the seal here is definitely not completely closed. But there is always a big difference between taking the things inside out and going in to die, which requires some effort.

The prototype of the kingdom of God in the abyss unfolded with Him as the center. The collapsed candlesticks and the torches without fuel on the wall suddenly lit up with faint blue flames. The breath of filth, curse, and sin blew through here like a heavy wind. The sealed stone door was quickly eroded and polluted by the silt-like malice. The cursed spirit traced along the glowing traces on the door. Soon, the seal on it, which had been crumbling for thousands of years, dimmed little by little, and finally made a slight sound like glass breaking.

The black liquid continued to spread from bottom to top, engulfing the entire stone gate, causing it to completely rot and be corroded until nothing was left.

The red-haired evil spirit behind the door slowly raised his head, revealing a sharp and handsome face and a flamboyant smile. He sat cross-legged and uninhibitedly on a black iron high-back chair with bloodstains carved on it. On three black iron high-back chairs, each bound by layers of chains was a dried, shrunken, and faded corpse.

There wasn't much blood in there, nor the pungent smell of a rotting corpse, only a cold, ash-like smell.

The demon and the evil spirit looked at each other, and Edward took off the pendant hanging on his ear. The black crystal automatically twisted and deformed, turning into a dark gray stone inverted cross with scattered gold threads in it.

He straightened the cross and let it float in his palm. With the infusion of spirituality, the messy golden thread-like marrow inside the cross became brighter and brighter, and finally the golden light radiated from the inside out, bringing the sun-like light to the closed for a thousand years. Unfortunately, the two creatures here did not have any bright and righteous characteristics. In the warm and brilliant sunshine, the demon felt a slight tingling sensation on the skin covered by the light, and the evil spirits in poor condition were directly purified and began to emit black gas.

But faced with this long-lost light, the Red Ghost still suppressed the instinctive urge to escape and return to the shadows. He raised his head and looked at the glowing cross with an obsessed look.

"The true Creator bears witness here."

"I am about to fulfill my promise to you and free the Red Angel. My allies, please turn your attention here."

Edward finished speaking seriously, and a subtle wave descended. Above the cross, a pair of scarlet eyes quietly opened.

An equally deep and heavy voice responded:
“God said, it works.”

Hearing this voice and seeing those eyes, the last trace of uneasiness and doubt in Medici's heart finally dissipated.

The severe pain in his body turned into an urge to cry. He trembled with ecstasy under this gaze, restrained all his arrogant and ostentatious expressions, and bowed his head devoutly and solemnly, just like every time in the past thousands of years.

TBC
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My friend who said I had personal opinions in the book review forum, your comment was swallowed every time you posted. When I refreshed the page, I saw that you had posted so many that I almost didn’t recognize the word “personal opinions”.

If you see this chapter, why not just say it here...

Since I can't reply to you, I don't know what you mean by "too much personal stuff". Based on the recent plot, it should be about Aurora and Zhenzao. It just so happens that I also have something to say.

I believe some readers have noticed that the Aurora Club seems to be a victim in this article. Please believe me that I am not whitewashing it, because I have no sympathy. While everyone thinks that the Aurora Club seems to be very miserable, think about the smog in the original work.

Perhaps, the appearance of Mr. X, Louis Wayne, made everyone feel something was wrong, because this person betrayed the Abraham family just like the Secret Saint, but in this article, he seemed to be whitewashed. Hahaha, how is this possible, because now it is the perspective of the Aurora Society, everyone is a fanatic believer of the True Creation, and of course they look happy.

I will kill without mercy, and neither Butis nor X will survive.

If you do something wrong, you have to pay the price. Even God cannot escape punishment. This article has been emphasizing this. Aurora Club is transforming, Zhenzao is working hard, but those who deserve to die must die and those who deserve to be killed must be killed.

After all, the Aurora Society - True Creation believers should have done all kinds of evil when they were the evil god organization in the Fifth Epoch. How could the evil people transform themselves so easily? Good and bad merits and demerits are not offset. The current Aurora Society may have too much faith. They think of themselves as righteous in their hearts, but the church does not think so. Is it okay for the church to encircle and suppress the evil cult organization?
Unless it is to encircle and suppress the pilgrimage sect.

So the Aurora will be even worse in the future.

In short, what I want to express is "You deserve the beating you are getting now, because you did so many wrong things before." If the personal opinions you are talking about are not this but other aspects, and are not issues of principle, then you might as well think about it from another perspective and see if it will not feel strange if you change the name to "The Years I Was an External Aid to the Tarot Club" or "The Years I Was an External Aid to the Church."

I'm not blaming you, reading a book is a two-way choice. But if this is the case, maybe you are still not suitable for this article, please stop loss in time.

(End of this chapter)