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

887
"You didn't continue to follow?"

The young man with brown curly hair was concentrating on decorating the cream cake in front of him. He took the time to ask the young man with a face from the Southern Continent who had just entered the kitchen:
"Your power is well suited for secret observation."

The young man from the Southern Continent shook his head. Then, he took off his coat, put on an apron, put on thick baking gloves and a mask, and naturally opened the oven to take out the freshly baked milk cookies. His voice came out muffled from behind the mask:

"It's too dangerous. They are two demigods."

"...If the intelligence is true, Emlyn White should be hostile to the Thunderbolt Church. I just don't know if his target will be Raydar Valentine or the entire church."

He usually doesn't like to talk much, and only says a little when it comes to tasks and his beliefs.

"bump!"

He put two plates of freshly baked hot cookies aside to cool temporarily. After a while, they would be brushed with cream or chocolate sauce according to the order and sprinkled with those beautiful pink sugar grains.

A group of 20 pieces can be put into a beautiful iron box and sold for 2 to 3 soli.

Undecorated loose pieces could be sold for as little as 1 penny each. The former was a treat for the middle class, while the latter was an occasional luxury for the common people.

He skillfully began to beat eggs, separated the egg yolks and egg whites, poured sugar into the egg whites in batches to make fresh cream. The brown curly-haired baker also made pink lace decorations on the white cream cake, picked up a spatula to make some colorful glaze on the front of the cake. No one would think that these two bakers were cruel serial killers.

Of course, this was also quite shocking to the wild demons of the southern continent. After arriving in Loen, he was so shocked by the livelihood of Backlund's demon family that he couldn't recover for a long time - but soon, he found that he didn't hate it, and even liked doing it.

The young man with brown curly hair smoothed the cake dough with steady hands, holding the scraper as if he was holding a dagger horizontally.

"It doesn't matter to us."

He said nonchalantly, "Honestly, do you think Feynaport's gang has the ability to put pressure on the Thunder Church? Forget it, let me take a step back and ask, can they make the people of Loen hate and fear them?"

"I don't know. The resistance in my hometown has never been successful."

The young man from the Southern Continent picked up the cookie, dipped it in a container filled with chocolate sauce, and then sprinkled it with colorful sugar crumbs.

His tone was unusually calm. "My mother also participated in the parade. She was even a small leader of the Spiritual Cult. But the power they had was too small compared to the church and the army, so they all failed."

"But Bishop White is also a demigod. In terms of high-end combat power, he is on par with the one in the Holy Wind Cathedral. But in terms of overall strength... if the bishops and extraordinary people of other Earth Churches don't help him, he will definitely suffer." The brown-haired cake maker had already written the words "Happy Birthday" on the top of the cake with red strawberry jam and packed the exquisite cream cake. He tied the ribbon and bow on the gift box and put it aside, waiting for the guests to pick it up, and came to help pack the iron box cookies.

"That Emlyn White is not a human. Is he a natural-born vampire?" asked the young man from the Southern Continent. "He smells abnormal."

"Yes, he was originally an ordinary vampire. Then, perhaps inspired and favored by the Mother Earth, he joined the Harvest Church and was promoted three times from Sequence 7 to become a demigod within a year. Those favored by the gods are truly amazing."

"Blood clan? It turns out that the Church of Mother Earth really wants to attract blood clan to join the church. What is the purpose of doing this?"

"I don't know that."

The baker looked up and threw the tools in his hand to the other party: "I'm going to go buy some goods and keep an eye on the prices. Can you help me watch the store? By the way, how is your potion digested? I don't want to continue making cakes and baking bread here."

The young man from the Southern Continent calmly probed his promotion path: "I haven't made any progress yet, so what do you plan to do in the future?"

"Of course I'll go to a factory and be a workshop manager. That way I won't have to make cakes and can just sit back and be lazy."

"...?"

He took off his apron, gloves and mask, glanced at his colleague, and said jokingly, "Your power is quite practical. If you ask me, you shouldn't be a demon with your breath shielding. You are more suitable to be an assassin. You want to hide yourself, but you are a demon?"

The young man from the Southern Continent also put the box of cookies aside: "They didn't hide as well as I did, so they all died."

"That's pretty cool." Another person whistled, "I'm leaving."

……

"Release Bishop White!"

The next second after someone in the crowd shouted this sentence, a gust of wind blew out from the Holy Wind Cathedral, making the people gathered in front of the cathedral almost unable to stand. They swayed like grass in the wind and took a few steps back together.

The sky was gloomy. The cathedral, which was mainly white, was surrounded by strong winds. There was a faint rumble of thunder and the blue-black flag was swaying slightly.

An indescribable aura of majesty descended from above, causing the Fenapote people, who had been emotional just now, to instinctively feel fear and surrender. Several of them were so frightened that they lost the courage to scream and fell directly to the ground, while the rest had to use almost all their strength to continue standing where they were instead of turning around and running away tremblingly.

Even so, their momentum was shattered in an instant, and their faces turned pale and they were unable to speak.

Raydar Valentine stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass window on the high floor, looking down, his face gloomy and serious, just like the dark clouded sky above his head.

At the moment, it looked like there were at most a hundred people, which was far from enough to shake anything. This demigod certainly would not let them do whatever they wanted in front of the former holy temple of the Thunder Church. Just a little bit of majestic aura was enough to make ordinary people bow their heads and surrender.

But he also had to show anger and dissatisfaction, so that Emlyn White would admit his mistake, take the initiative to make concessions, and help him investigate the incident.

The intervention of the Thunder Church would make these foreigners nervous, but could they really reject their own country's beliefs?
A team of "Substituted Punishers" filed out from the side doors on both sides. The five-man team was a little small compared to the nearly 100 people on the opposite side, but in fact, only one "Substituted Punisher" captain was needed to control all these unarmed people. If it wasn't for testing what the hidden promoter was going to do next, Redar wouldn't even bother to send people out to control them. He would directly use his own aura to scare all these people away in panic.

Today is a weekday, and not many people come to the church to worship. Therefore, the Loen people who came to worship were caught off guard by the sudden influx of Feynaport people. They were almost completely dispersed, and the rest hid in the church and dared not come out.

The captain of the "Made in Punishment" had already arrived in front of the Feynaport people, and his expression was very ugly.

"Who sent you here?!"

He asked directly, his fierce and stern eyes swept across the foreigners like a knife. Seeing that no one spoke for a while, he raised his voice: "Answer me, who sent you here!"

The scattered Loen people were also squeezed in among them, unable to move or make a sound.

"You are the ones who captured our bishop!" Someone in the crowd farther away shouted hoarsely, "You...you not only captured the bishop, but also killed our friend..."

"Bullshit!" The captain of the Made Punishers spoke even louder than he did, and was even more emotional. He cursed without thinking, "Your archbishop is protecting a murderer!"

"I don't even know you! But my wife and children were blown to death by that lunatic!!"

If he hadn't been on night patrol duty, he might have stayed with his family and caught fire in the loud noise before dawn. He might have survived with his strong defensive ability, but he could only watch his wife and children die.

"We called him here and asked him to take responsibility for the innocent deaths, but he insisted that we were the first to attack, and then he turned around and left!"

Thinking of the thunderous gas explosion in the morning, the burning house, the despair he felt when he found out that his own house was the scene of the accident, and the charred bodies covered by white sheets that could no longer be seen... The Punisher's eyes were almost spitting fire, and his hatred was directed at every Feynapotter in front of him. He gritted his teeth and said:
"You actually said we should catch him? He turned and walked away, and we couldn't stop him - who dares to catch him, who can catch him!"

Perhaps because his emotions were too real, people around him gradually changed their attitudes.

They were originally curious and grateful to the Feynapotters who came to Loen to help reclaim the wasteland. They also had a natural fondness for this country because of the cheap food and bread that saved themselves, their parents, their families, and their friends and neighbors. Even if they didn't have these two things, the dusty, vicissitudes, and nervous appearance of these people in front of the Holy Wind Cathedral could arouse people's sympathy for those in need. But now, with the bloody and tearful accusations of the Punishers falling loudly, they suddenly realized that these foreigners might not be friendly to them, and might even be hostile.

In this situation, how can they not become alert and instinctively favor those who share the same nationality and beliefs as themselves?

Such emotions may initially arise in the hearts of only five or six unrelated passers-by, but they soon spread to almost everyone.

In the past, some rational and fair-minded people would have thought about what the Fenapote said at the beginning: "You killed our friends." But now, many people are thinking:
It turns out that these foreigners are still dissatisfied with becoming a vassal state!

They are dangerous and may threaten the life and property of yourself and your family!

Isn't that priest a living example? He did nothing and knew nothing, but he was blamed and lost his family.

"I'm telling you, these people are a destabilizing factor for society..."

"Did you see their clothes? They are so casual, not formal, and their skin is dark and red. They look rude and uncultured."

"...Their range of activities should be restricted. Since they are here to reclaim wasteland, they cannot enter the city of Backlund."

"You're right. If we need anything, can't we just go to the East End? It's really troublesome for us to stay in the city! We don't have to worry about those robbers anymore. If I sit in a public carriage with them, I will definitely be scared..."

"Oh, by the way, will the price of Feynaporte's grain on the market return to its original price in a few days?"

For a moment, all kinds of voices rang in people's hearts and ears.

No matter how bad the Fenapot people were at observing people's expressions, no matter how dark the winter night was, the Fenapot people could already feel the unfriendly, vigilant, and even suspicious gazes coming from all directions and falling on them.

The whispers and malicious gazes intertwined into a large net, so dense that it was hard to breathe. The leader was pale and trembling all over. It was unclear whether it was due to the tone of the other party's words or the pressure of the Beyonder's momentum.

"You...you were the first to attack...!"

His lips trembled as he pointed at the Punisher opposite him, unable to utter a word.

The Punisher became furious when he saw the other party pointing his index finger at him.

He moved his eyes to look around and found that the atmosphere at the moment was clearly on his side. People were accusing each other with their eyes and whispers.

In front of the church of his own church, with everyone acquiescing and supporting, even the archbishop did not send a message to stop it - he suddenly became bolder and no longer restrained his anger. He took two steps forward, stretched out his hand and grabbed the other person's collar fiercely, throwing an adult male to the ground like a light rag doll.

"Why are you pointing at me?"

Bang! The Feynapotter was thrown three or four meters away with a muffled sound.

"Why are you pointing at me!" The Mandated Punisher shouted, "You attacked the Holy Wind Cathedral and threatened the safety of our believers, and you even pointed your finger at the priest of the church! Don't you Feynapotes know how to write the word etiquette?!"

An adult male who looked to be in his forties was curled up in pain and unable to get up from the ground.

There were faint sounds of laughter and whistles from the Loen crowd, and it seemed that some hooligans who loved to watch the fun also began to look around. Almost everyone turned a blind eye to this obvious act of violence.

At this moment, he felt as if he had become some kind of justice, some kind of unquestionable authority.

"what are you doing!"

This action immediately made all the Feynaporters nervous, and several of them cursed on the spot. They immediately stood in front of their fallen companions, but the next moment a strong wind blew in their faces, which was like a blunt knife cutting their faces on a winter night. The wind blew them so hard that they couldn't stand steadily. Even if they used their arms to cover their faces, they couldn't open their eyes, let alone say anything to refute the other party.

"I remember you!"

Suddenly, someone pointed at his face and shouted, "I remember you! Someone sold my grain at a low price before, and I asked you for help. You said it was not your business, and you chased me away, telling me not to interfere with public affairs..."

The Punisher paused and looked at the person who spoke, only to find that it was another unfamiliar face that he had no impression of.

Not only that, he didn't even remember what the other person said - why would he remember such a trivial matter? Market prices were not his business! This person couldn't even decide the price of the goods, so what did it have to do with him? - The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Now that he had become the authority here, someone dared to point his finger at him again without any tact! This boring accusation instantly made him furious. He strode forward, grabbed the hand pointing at him, and dragged the other person out of the crowd.

This tall young man who looked to be in his thirties had no power to resist the Sequence 5 Beyonder and was dragged over like a chicken. He was also shocked by the other party's amazing strength. Just as he was about to speak, he saw that the other party had already raised one hand high.

The young man closed his eyes subconsciously.

At this moment, the sky suddenly brightened, the clouds dissipated, and a bright red moon hung in the sky.

The Punisher only felt a flash before his eyes, and then his body flew out directly like the Fenapote just now.

He fell heavily to the ground, and then felt severe pain in both his wrists. His wrists were bleeding, and the scales hidden under the skin had all cracked. The skin had also broken in the previous moment, like a fish with scales scraped off on a chopping board.

He looked up and saw a figure standing against the moonlight and a pair of cold eyes the same color as the moon.

The red moonlight shone down, covering the square in front of the Holy Wind Cathedral. Every Fenapote felt a sense of peace suddenly arise in their hearts. They all looked forward at the same time, looking at the familiar bishop who appeared there with expectant and joyful eyes.

Emlyn didn't say anything. He looked around, reached out to pull up the person who had fallen to the ground, and handed him to his friend. Then he fixed his eyes on the man who slowly walked out of the Holy Wind Cathedral.

"Bishop White."

"..."

Redar Valentine was unmoved: "You have seen the situation. Your believers and my subordinates have once again had a dispute. This time, we should at least resolve the conflict."

He swept his eyes over the people around him and asked meaningfully:

"Do you want to stay here and let everyone see your badness, or take them away and we can continue talking?"

"I'm not saying that I really want to solve the problem, but you always seem to be insincere." Emlyn said expressionlessly, "Bishop Valentine, you are very powerful, and I can't argue with you. You might as well just tell me what exactly do you want me to do?"

Raydar smiled and said, "I knew you were a reasonable and good person. After all, not every bishop has such a kind heart as you."

"My request is also very simple, just like what I said this morning. Hand over the murderer's accomplices and let them receive a fair trial. Then we can discuss the matter behind this incident. We shouldn't let dangerous people continue to roam around in Backlund."

“I’ve already told you that he doesn’t have any…” Emlyn clearly felt the believer behind him tighten his grip on his clothes.

"This is what I ask, Mr. White, do you think you can accept it?"

TBC
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I was dragged out for a day, and even now I can still hear the screams and jumping of ten or even nine children and the thick smell of cigarettes.