Chapter 42: Decisiveness Leads to Failure!

Pine Street, No. 07.

The standalone villa was quiet at night. Even the patrolling police officers unconsciously lightened their footsteps when passing by the villa.

They all knew that the people living here were big shots they couldn't afford to offend.

So, they had to show the proper respect.

"Look at them, don't you find it ridiculous?"

"They seem like dogs."

Standing by the window on the third floor, Skifens, dressed in silk pajamas, looked down at the police officers hurrying past his villa and couldn't help but shake his wine glass as he sighed.

The crimson liquid clung to the walls of the glass as it swirled, then slowly flowed down.

Skifens took a light sniff, and only when the fragrance of the wine filled the air did he take a small sip.

He then turned to look at his bodyguard, Onk, who had just returned to the villa.

The bodyguard remained silent, knowing well the nighttime habits of his employer.

Sure enough, Skifens continued the conversation in the next moment.

"No!"

"They aren't even as good as dogs!"

"At least dogs have loyalty!"

"But them?"

"They're just a bunch of parasites!"

"They're the ones who ruined the kingdom!"

Skifens' voice involuntarily grew louder, filled with anger, almost...

Hysterical!

But within just a few seconds, his anger dissipated, leaving only a peculiar sense of pity.

"But you can't blame them. After all, they're just a bunch of pitiful fools who don't understand 'reality.'"

"Sigh..."

"Pitiful fools."

With a long sigh, Skifens sank back into his chair, seemingly lost in some inexplicable emotion.

This time, it took him several minutes to come back to his senses.

"How did it go?"

Skifens asked his bodyguard.

At this moment, Skifens' voice was clear, his expression stern, and his eyes sharp. Even while sitting, he exuded the pressure of someone in power.

This pressure made one forget his age.

Though he was only in his twenties, for a split second, he could be mistaken for a mature middle-aged man.

"The 'Blood Flesh Church' believer was killed by Goethe."

Onk bowed as he reported.

"Hmph, useless."

Skifens coldly remarked, a hint of interest appearing in his eyes.

"Goethe, huh?"

"He's truly a remarkable young man."

"He's not even twenty, right?"

Skifens inquired.

"Yes, he's 19 this year."

Onk answered truthfully.

"I suddenly want to meet this young man..."

"Sir, for your safety, I advise against it—he might have been harmless before, but now he’s been consumed by hatred and has become extremely dangerous."

"If he notices anything suspicious, he’ll act decisively."

"Moreover, he didn’t return to Pine Hotel tonight after leaving in a hurry."

"Clearly, he already suspects you."

"Please, don’t put yourself in danger!"

Before Skifens could finish speaking, Onk interrupted him.

As a bodyguard, Onk was absolutely loyal and dutiful.

Faced with such a devoted bodyguard, Skifens frowned.

In the end, he sighed.

"Alright, Onk."

Skifens gave up on his original plan.

Then, the Pine Hotel owner couldn’t resist making another remark.

"The 'Blood Flesh Church' is truly useless!"

"Exactly!"

"They are indeed useless!"

A voice echoed in agreement.

Suddenly, thick fog billowed in the room.

As the mist dissipated, a figure in a hooded cloak appeared in the study.

The hood obscured the face, and the cloak concealed the body.

The voice was hoarse, making it impossible to distinguish the person's age or gender.

Anko immediately stood in front of the figure, shielding his employer behind him.

Even if this person was the true partner of his employer, Anko would still act the same.

"Hah, you failed too?"

Skiffins asked casually, showing no concern.

"Yes, I failed as well."

"I never expected that a 'Child of Flesh' and a 'Flesh Cultist' would be counter-killed when attacking a heavily injured Keeper and a trainee Keeper!"

"And it happened even with my help!"

The 'Killer in the Mist' sneered.

"This means..."

"You’re just as useless!"

Skiffins elongated his tone, narrowing his eyes at the hooded figure.

"Yes, we are all a bunch of pathetic failures."

"Calling us useless is quite fitting."

The 'Killer in the Mist' admitted openly, without a trace of anger, though there was a hint of sarcasm in his words.

Skiffins' lips curled into a smile, his hand rhythmically swirling the wine glass, but his sharp eyes grew even more intense at that moment.

However, the look quickly vanished.

In the next moment, everything returned to normal.

"How's the preparation going?"

The owner of the Pine Hotel asked.

"Almost done."

"Thanks to those useless members of the 'Flesh Church,' our progress has been greatly accelerated."

"Three days!"

"In no more than three days, you'll have everything you desire!"

The 'Killer in the Mist' replied.

"That's good."

"When I get what I want, you'll get everything you desire as well."

Skiffins promised.

"Looking forward to our cooperation."

The 'Killer in the Mist' said as his body was once again enveloped by thick fog.

Then, as the mist dissipated, he disappeared from the spot.

After confirming that the figure had indeed left, Anko turned around and returned to Skiffins' side.

"Master, that guy has ill intentions!"

The bodyguard frowned as he spoke.

"Of course, I know."

"That guy only wants to use me to restrain the 'Keeper.'"

"Just like how he used those useless members of the 'Flesh Church.'"

Skiffins

"Then why did you…?"

Anko looked at his employer in confusion.

"There are some things you can’t avoid."

"And some things?"

"You have to do them."

As Skiffins spoke, he turned again to look out the window.

He didn't tell his bodyguard that the 'Killer in the Mist' had found a 'secret realm.'

Even though he had no doubt about his bodyguard's loyalty.

It wasn't because he didn’t want to say it.

It was because he couldn't say it.

The constraints of the contract kept him silent.

But soon, he would be able to confess everything.

In front of the whole world!

But now?

"Anko, I’m counting on you from here on."

Skiffins said softly.

Anko immediately knelt on one knee, solemnly responding.

"Master, leave it to me!"

...

At 10 a.m., the 'Keeper' reinforcements arrived faster than expected.

"Puri!"

Morey joyfully embraced and greeted the middle-aged man before him.

He was a tall, rugged-looking man, not dressed in the typical suit, vest, shirt, coat, and trench coat ensemble but in hunting gear. He also wasn’t wearing a hat, with his hair flowing freely, making him look even more fierce.

However, when facing Morey, the man smiled.

Instantly, the fierce aura vanished, replaced by a sense of honesty.

"Long time no see, Morey."

"Yes, it has been a while."

"The last time we met was during the 'Summer River Banshee Incident' two years ago. I didn’t expect you’d be the one to come to my aid."

The two exchanged pleasantries.

Then, Morey turned and introduced Goethe to the man.

"Goethe, this is the 'trainee' I recommended this time."

Hearing Morey’s words, the Keeper who had come to assist couldn’t help but scrutinize Goethe.

There was no malice.

Only assessment.

And a hint of...

Curiosity.

Then, he immediately extended his hand.

"Hello, Goethe."

"Hello, Mr. Puri."

After they shook hands, the Keeper immediately said, "No need to call me Mr. Just call me Puri. I’ve heard about you, Goethe—well done, keep it up!"

As Puri spoke, he gave Goethe a firm pat on the shoulder.

Then, the Keeper turned back to Morey.

"Take good care of your injuries."

"Leave the rest to me."

With that, the Keeper who had come to assist turned and left.

"Trust Puri."

"He is an excellent Keeper."

Morey said as he watched his friend’s back.

Goethe nodded.

He trusted Morey’s words.

Then, at noon, Swart rushed in, panicked, and said—

"Lord Puri is dead!"

(End of Chapter)