Long-term salvation

As the weather forecast reported, it was raining in London.

Dark clouds hang over this ancient city, and the intermittent drizzle often annoys first-time travelers, but for the English people who live here, it is just part of daily life.

Miss Laura Croft, now 21, is holding a black umbrella as she waits to meet her mentor, Dr. Timothy Flyte - a man with an eccentric personality, a strong will, and a calm composure in the face of danger - and like Laura, it is hard to say that she has not been influenced by this friend of her parents.

The raindrops hit the umbrella evenly, making a regular dull sound, but the occasional cold wind made Laura hold her windbreaker tightly and move her fingers that were frozen stiff.

Although it was spring, it still felt chilly, and it was during these times that Laura missed the warmth of Croft Manor and the warmer days on the Mediterranean coast. Thanks to her mentor, she had met members of the Argos Panoptos family and had even been invited to visit the sealed ancient ruins.

Just as Laura stretched and was thinking about whether to go for a cup of coffee, she suddenly saw a little nun - the nun was passing through the crowd. No, it was not so much that she was passing through the crowd, but rather that the crowd was being invisibly separated in front of her, just like Moses parting the Red Sea.

The nun was petite and lovely, with orange hair cascading down her chest, a hint of maternal compassion. She held a clear plastic umbrella, seemingly something she'd casually bought at a convenience store, yet it perfectly displayed its beauty to the world.

The men took off their hats to greet the nuns, and the women touched their chests and bowed slightly subconsciously, but some people ran away in panic with shame and fear on their faces.

Lara Croft didn't get out of the way or flee, but stood there, staring blankly at the thing above the little nun's head—

Is that... a halo?

When Laura came to her senses, she found that her hand had been pulled up by the little nun, and the two of them left one after the other under the silent gazes of passers-by.

"you……"

"My name is Elizabeth," the little nun said with a bright smile on her face, but then she frowned slightly. "Your hands are cold, Miss Laura Croft. You need to wear gloves."

"I…wait, why do you know my name? Where are we going?"

Laura tried to break free from the nun's grip, but was immediately suppressed by the irresistible force coming from that warm palm - the girl's grip was really strong - Laura had no doubt that the little nun in front of her could definitely pin a grown man to the ground and knock him unconscious with one punch!

After muttering a few words in her heart, Laura, unable to break free, had no choice but to let the little nun pull her through the crowd, around the corner, and throw those eyes behind her. In two minutes, they trotted across the wet sidewalk and arrived in front of an Italian restaurant.

Laura looked at the familiar sign, feeling a bit bewildered. This was her mentor's favorite restaurant, where she and he often met and dined. "Ever since the German bombings during World War II destroyed the English diet, the only food left on this island is foreign cuisine and 'targeted hunger treatment drugs.'"

To this day, Laura still remembers what Dr. Timothy said when he first brought her to this Italian restaurant.

Pushing the door open, the warm air with the aroma of food and the bright lights hit Laura's face, causing her body to tremble subconsciously. Because it was not yet dinner time, there were few people in the restaurant, only the noisy sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen.

"Oh, Laura!" Dr. Timothy Flyte stood up and waved to his students with a smile, "Come and sit down. Would you like to have your favorite Genoa-style pasta?"

Seeing her mentor's smile, Laura sighed helplessly. The young adventurer, with her brown hair tied into a ponytail, walked quickly past the unused tables and chairs and said with a hint of complaint:

"You should have told me earlier instead of asking this nun to come all this way! And her..."

"Sorry, Laura, but that's a topic for later."

The doctor raised his hand to stop his beloved disciple's question. He gestured to the kitchen, then sat down slowly and folded the newspaper he had been reading. The sharp-eyed Laura saw that only the Sudoku game part of the newspaper showed some signs of use.

"Because my friend is here, and he has just taken another lovely lady to see the hotel where they will stay. He always finds fault with these two angels, even if it is just a short stay. I even suspect that he would find fault with the royal palace."

"That's slandering me, Doctor."

A man spoke, his words mingling with the creaking of the wooden door as it opened, punctuated by the incessant patter of rain outside. Like a sharp sword, they cut through the mundane noises in the restaurant, bringing the unknown before Laura:

The man wore a long black trench coat, with a finely crafted suit underneath. It wasn't made by an English tailor, but rather carried the unique and high-spirited style of the New World. The suit was expensive, but compared to the pair of azure eyes carved into his handsome face, these human creations, which could be measured by money, seemed particularly crude.

A black cat with some water droplets on its body was squatting on the man's shoulder, looking at him with curiosity, and the hem of its coat was bulging, as if hiding something - oh, a pair of slender legs, a girl's legs.

"Hello, Miss Laura Croft, you can call me 'Rod'. Just call me by my name. I hate those pretentious words." Rod extended his hand and shook Laura's. A smile appeared on his face. He pushed the petite girl hidden under his clothes out and introduced her to Laura's astonished brown eyes. "This is Sorasaki Hina... She is as lovely as an angel, isn't she?"

"Hello, Miss Lara Croft."

"Angel……"

Laura looked at Hinai, who nodded in greeting, with a troubled expression. And of course, the devilish bat wings jutting out from behind him... Was he really an angel? But as far as cuteness was concerned, the man before her was certainly right.

"Laura, please sit down first," Dr. Timothy Flyte whispered. "Remember the other world I told you about? Now, it's right in front of you - I hope you can be mentally prepared."

After sitting down, Rhode glanced at Laura, who had a bewildered look on her face, but within that bewildered look was a hint of excitement and joy. After a brief pause, he spoke to Dr. Timothy:

"Doctor, we'll set out tomorrow to meet up with your friends and take Pickman to sort things out... As for Hina and Mary, how about letting Miss Laura take them around London first?"

"That... I don't have any objection," Dr. Timothy patted his beloved student's shoulder, bringing the latter back to his senses from his fantasy of future adventures. "Laura, did you hear that?"

"I have no objection either!"

Laura said immediately, her eyes fell on the two girls with halos on their heads, wondering if she could get them to allow her to touch them.

Chapter 171 A Wonderful Night in London

The rain in London still hasn't stopped, it's intermittent and drizzling, making people feel annoyed.

It was a cold and gloomy night. Dazzling lights shone on the foggy Thames. Some ferries specially used for sightseeing were slowly crawling across the river. People standing on both sides of the boats were excitedly pointing at the skyscrapers in the distance and those buildings that symbolized the afterglow of the British Empire.

After leaving the hotel, Rod led Hinai slowly through the streets, intending to stroll around the city - perhaps because of the "cat", Mary and Pickman chose not to follow them out, but to rest in the hotel.

"Sensei, I'd better go buy an umbrella later." Hinai reached out to tug at Rod's sleeve and then stood on tiptoe to flick the water droplets off his tie. The girl had a soft expression on her face. "Your shoulders are wet from the rain."

"It's a pleasure to walk down the street on a rainy night with the girl you love in your arms, Hinata."

"...Do you realize you're heading in the direction of a playboy?"

"You hate what I just said?"

"..."

With a sharp twist at the waist, the umbrella in Rhode's hand almost fell to the ground with a scream. He had no choice but to quickly hold the umbrella handle tightly and hug the girl into his arms to prevent the cold raindrops from taking away the blush on her lovely face.

Many streets and buildings in London have an ancient history, and because of this, many streets and alleys appear to be relatively narrow. Fortunately, it is not far from the City of Westminster and belongs to the Greater London area. The public security is good and there are also many street shops that are popular with tourists.

After buying a Battenberg cake and handing one to Hina, Rhodes looked at the almond-flavored sponge cake with interest. The pink and light yellow checkered pattern looked like a floral scarf, and the outer layer was covered with a layer of frosting. This thing was a bit too sweet, so Rhodes took two bites and then put it back into the box. Hina, on the other hand, ate it bit by bit like a hamster.

Maybe girls' bodies have a wonderful mechanism for processing desserts.

Thinking about all these things, Rod was strolling with Hina when he was suddenly bumped into by a man who rushed out of the alley. The man had a long face and looked like Benedict Cumberbatch... Without even an apology, the man ran to the end of the street.

"Sherlock!"

Another shorter man rushed out and almost collided with Rhodes, but he was obviously more polite than the former.

"Excuse me, sir, and this little lady, we, we have important... Hey, Sherlock, wait for me!"

"Hurry up, Watson! We must intercept him!"

Looking at the two people going away, Rod, who remembered who they were, straightened his tie and said to Hina, who was still a little confused beside him with a smile:

"This world is so interesting. I'm beginning to like her."

"I thought you wanted to save the world because you loved her," Hinata reached out and grabbed Rod's arm, "Maybe you can consider retirement now?"

"That's twenty years from now. I won't imagine that far into the future."

Rhode shrugged, but then he remembered something and half-knelt down, cupping Hina's cheek with his right hand and kissing her soft lips wantonly. Looking into her purple eyes, which were filled with love yet a hint of anger, he whispered, "What are you doing?"

“Do Kivotos students age, too?”

"Growing old with you is our dream," Hinata said, tilting her face slightly, feeling the warmth of that hand. "But it seems like you, us, and Marianne and the others don't have that right—that's a fact we've been told. Of course, for us women, not growing old is a good thing too... I personally still hope to grow up a bit."

Rhode stood up under Hinai's slightly regretful gaze, looked at the brightly lit city, and said with a sigh:

"One hundred years, one thousand years, or ten thousand years? That's a bit too tiring. I'm not someone with a strong sense of dedication."

"We will stay with you," Hinai took Rod's hand and kissed it gently on the palm.

"Oh, that's a different matter."

"...You have indeed been too distracted recently."

After playing around with the girl for a while, Rhodes took her to continue walking along the street. It was getting late, and it was time to bring some things back to Mary and Pickman - they still needed a good rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, when Rhodes followed Professor Timothy to northern England, Laura would come over and take the two girls to visit London.

Rhodes didn't want to take the two of them to face that powerful person.

After making up his mind, Rod looked up at the sky. A drizzle of rain continued to fall from the night sky, illuminated by the city lights, with no sign of stopping. London's weather was as unpredictable as a baby's mood, which might explain why the British always chose to vacation on the warm and sunny coast of Spain.

Passing by an Eastern European-style restaurant on the banks of the Thames, Rod ordered two Silesian beef rolls and a Catherine gingerbread, and asked the owner for a raspberry cocktail, which he drank slowly. Judging from the owner's accent, he seemed to be a Polish immigrant, and his family was already the third generation.

While waiting for the food, Hina sat by the window, propping her head on her hand, quietly looking at the buildings on the other side of the river. The dancing light and shadows flashed across the girl's face.

Rhodes himself was leaning against the bar, sipping a cocktail that had vodka and elderflower syrup in it, and it really tasted amazing.

The door was opened from the outside, and a stern-faced man walked in. He stood at the door, shook the water droplets off his coat, and then shouted to the chef who was sticking his head out from the kitchen:

"Give me some roast pork neck with caraway seeds, for God's sake, this cold rain is just torture for me!"

"Wait a moment. I'm making the portion for the customer leaning against the bar. It'll take another four or five minutes."

"Hmm... This is indeed a bit unbearable. Oh, of course I'm not talking about you, young sir." The man also leaned against the bar like Rhodes. He leaned forward with ease, took out a glass from below, and poured himself another glass of whiskey. "The weather in London is always like this. I really hope I can move to France or Italy when I get old."

He raised his head and drank the wine, letting out a contented sigh. The man looked at Rhodes, then at Hinai by the window, and asked with a smile:

"Most people don't know about this Polish restaurant... Wait, are you tourists from the United States?"

"That's a good eye, sir," Rhodes replied with a smile. "Honestly, you should be a secret agent, like in the movies."

"Ha, forget it. That kind of work isn't for me."

James Bond's heart sank, but he still managed a fake smile - he was ordered by MI6 to investigate the people who got off the Atlas private plane... an ostracized old professor, a handsome young man, and two petite girls - one of them was a nun.

Now, many intelligence organizations are spreading rumors that Jonathan Irons, the founder of Atlas Corporation, has an illegitimate child. However, no one knows his true appearance, and it is difficult to obtain enough intelligence to prove or disprove it under the obstruction of Atlas Corporation.

Because of this, MI6 also wanted to know what the relationship was between the person who got off the private plane and Irons.

"My meal is here," Rod took the bag handed to him by the owner and said goodbye to James Bond politely and distantly, "Goodbye, sir, I hope you have a good night."

"May you have a wonderful and comfortable journey under the protection of the Queen's glory."

Leaving the restaurant, Rhode raised his hand to hail a taxi. As soon as he got in, he put on his all-seeing eye mask and saw through the car window that the stern-faced man was looking out the restaurant window. Until the taxi disappeared around the corner, neither of them could see what they wanted to see.

"As expected... Well, although I just said it once, I still have to say it now-"

Rhodes turned his head, reached out and ruffled Hina's hair, with a smirk on his face:

“This world is so interesting.”

Chapter 172 Exum Priory

Exham Abbey is nestled in the countryside of northern England, on a steep cliff at the edge of a desolate valley.

There was a small town nearby, but its inhabitants never came to admire the building, a mixture of Gothic towers, Saxon or Romanesque, or even the older Romanesque style - as if it were some unclean thing, with abominable blasphemy and sin lurking in every brick and stone.

The town and the monastery are separated by a barren swamp and forest. For thousands of years, few animal groups have chosen to take root and sprout here. Only those ignorant flies and insects fly above the pits formed by the gathering of mud and water, driving away the fools who mistakenly enter this place because of the mist.

But today, a British-made Citroën Traction Avant classic car fearlessly rushed into the fog, heading for the monastery as its final destination, and slowly drove along the slippery and winding road.

The fog was so thick that it was impossible to see anything except the swirling mist and the relatively smooth road surface, even turning on the headlights was useless. But fortunately, no one would dare to approach here, so the driver only had to consider the road conditions.

"Three years after my only son died of the aftereffects of the war, in February of this year, I came here to rebuild this monastery and planned to spend the rest of my life here, but I soon encountered some strange things."

Eugene Delapool (Note ①) drove carefully, glancing at Dr. Timothy Flyte, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and speaking to Rod, who was stroking the black cat's head in the back seat. He looked about the same age as the doctor, and his face was filled with loneliness and sadness.

Of course, Mr. Delapore was rich, but he had lost his wife and only son, and the rest of his life became bitter. Everything he had before would disappear at the moment of death, and just a few months later, no one would remember that he still existed in this world.

Driving cautiously, Mr. Delapore took a deep breath and continued to describe his experience during this period:

"The workers and servants I hired to look after the monastery told me that strange things were happening at Exham Priory, and that all the cats were restless, until... four cats. I loved cats, but they've all met with misfortune. It's really sad. What I'm going to tell you next is what happened after they died—"

Mr. Delapore.

I heard my manservant call me, "O pardon my address to them, there is no better name in this land, at least that is what these good folks half my age like to call themselves," and he was speaking to me with an apologetic air.

Your cat is dead. I saw a trail of blood where the cat's bed was this morning. It looked like something you'd see in a slaughterhouse. I'm sorry, sir. They might have been attacked by a wild animal, perhaps a weasel or a fox.

The servant's words shocked me. "God, I've never seen any small animals here, not even birds!" I almost thought that only humans and sentient plants could survive in this area, and any fleshy creatures would be wiped out invisibly, as if something had eaten them clean.

This news was hard for me to accept for a while, but when I followed him to the room, I suddenly remembered the strange noises I often heard at night, so I replied to my servant like this.

Maybe it was the hungry rats, a whole bunch of rats.

Yes, I often hear those tiny, distinct sounds, like rodents running through the walls, jumping onto the short wooden beams that run between them, and weaving freely through the intricate network of pipes and wires. Many of the walls of these old buildings have gaps, perhaps because the bricks in a corner have broken off, and a group of rats have run in and are breeding there... But what can they eat?

[It may not be a mouse, Mr. Delapool. We can't make a judgment. Please come over there and take a look.]