A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 316 Ruining the place

The sound of the pattering water was shut behind the door. Sissa bolted the door and tucked the Golden Rings under his arm.

"Are we just going to lock him up here like this?" Quinn closed his eyes, subtly sensing his surroundings.

This was just an ordinary brothel.

“Of course not. He can’t hold out that long. But the train to Calest only runs every three days, so he’ll have to wait a bit longer,” Sysa replied.

Callest, one of the border cities of the Kingdom of Ron, is geographically adjacent to the border of Axwell. After the Church of Light in Axwell was forcibly demolished by the Academy, the Church of Light in Callest became the closest papal stronghold to the city.

Sissa led Quinn to the kitchen of Caesar's Baths, next to a narrow terrace by the river. It was dusk, and the clear sky was tinged with a deep purple, with stars and the moon faintly visible.

He casually chose a wooden barrel to lean against and sat down, took out a cigarette case from his priest's robe, took one out and put it in his mouth, then lit it with a flick of his finger as if by magic.

"The priest smokes?" Quinn asked, glancing sideways.

The smoke drifted, scattered by the wind onto the tranquil river surface. The cigarette was long and thin; on Earth, this type of cigarette is called a "woman's cigarette," and only men who can't quit smoking would smoke it to satisfy their cravings.

"The cigarette passes through the lungs, but remains in the heart of the Heavenly Father."

He held the cigarette in his hand, shook it, and said with a grin, "I started smoking this stuff when I was seven. The place I lived in when I was a kid was so tough, there wasn't even a piece of candy. Sometimes when I behaved well, the adults would give me a cigarette to smoke. We had nothing else, but we could have as many cigarettes as we wanted."

"A religious school?" Quinn asked, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, no, it's the Empire's welfare home."

Xisa looked at the clothes drying on the terrace, all of them women's underwear. There was a pungent smell of disinfectant in the air. Two buckets of thawed seafood were placed by the river, waiting for the chef to prepare them.

"Were Hunter's family really taken away by the Golden Wind?" he asked.

Quinn nodded.

“Ike is a man of principle. Old Hunter has saved many people from Golden Wind, so he shouldn’t make things too difficult for the women. But don’t expect the gang to be too humane. They haven’t caught anyone in half a month, and they’ve used almost every means at their disposal against his father.”

"Can you help get them out?"

“It’s possible,” Quinn glanced sideways at Sissa, who was secretly smoking, “but we’ve already asked all the necessary questions. An Abyss Transcendent. Are you really going to keep your word?”

Sissa prayed, holding a cigarette, his faith rising into the sky with the smoke rings he exhaled.

“The Father said that it is His task to forgive original sin. And our task is to send original sin to the Father as soon as possible. But his family is innocent, and there is no need to send them away with him.”

“I need a reason. This guy is related to Mr. Q and Ike’s ‘goods,’ and saving him for no reason would make me a suspect.”

"That's easy. Just tell me where it is."

"Are you planning to try and save them by force?"

“Saving a few ordinary people is no trouble,” Sissa said calmly. “Perfect timing, I want to take this opportunity to see what’s hidden in the Golden Wind.”

Quinn shrugged.

"As long as it doesn't involve me, it's fine. I guess there's a big orc named Rex locked up in that casino. You can ask him."

Sissa nodded.

"The items will be delivered to you later."

He was referring to the Starlight Potion and the oil painting that Hunter had brought with him.

“As soon as possible.” Quinn paused. “I just remembered something. The Primal Fire you mentioned earlier…”

"What?" Sissa asked, a cigarette dangling from her lips, without looking at him.

"Is that the flame that can turn night into day?"

The first war against demons at the beginning of the Divine Era nearly plunged humanity, which had just regained the light, back into the dark ages.

At that time, arcane arts were still a closely guarded secret among a small group of recluses. Human civilization had not yet escaped ignorance, and various countries could not even provide enough food for themselves to get through the winter, let alone provide it for their armies.

The demons swept across the battlefield with unstoppable momentum. After the hero's first challenge against the Demon King ended in defeat, the demon army swept across four continents. Natural disaster clouds blocked out the sunlight, and the dark sky was about to collapse. Even though humanity had many high-sequence superhumans who had emerged from the lost era, they had little chance of winning against the almost endless demons.

The severely wounded hero has disappeared, the clergy of the seven major religions have fallen one after another, and humanity has been driven from its settlements, fleeing in panic across the wilderness and becoming prey to be hunted.

As humanity faced extinction, the Lord of the Holy See ascended to heaven to obtain fire, entrusting the light given by the sun to the 1,024 monks of the Inquisition. The monks rushed to the earth and lit flames all over the world.

The sun's light pierced the darkness, and light returned to the earth. Human survivors relied on the sacred fire of the sun to build fortifications. Under the illumination of the sacred object, all demons would turn into mist. Without the siege of demons, the extraordinary beings were finally able to achieve a battlefield balance with the demons. Relying on the light created with the lives of the Inquisition monks, humanity persevered until the day the heroes returned and beheaded the Demon King at Saint Camelot.

After the war, human civilization began to revive, and the churches destroyed during the war were rebuilt on the very sites where the sacred flames that had once sheltered life were located. One thousand and twenty-four cathedrals of light rose from all over the world, and those sanctuaries that had protected humanity became settlements, and gradually transformed into great cities.
These churches continued to serve the same purpose in subsequent wars against demons. Even when demons occupied cities, they found it difficult to breach the strongholds established by the Church of Light. After six wars against demons, nearly eight hundred Churches of Light still remained.

Even in the prosperous era of widespread arcane magic and industrialization, the sacred flame atop the Cathedral of Light remains a symbol of humanity's remembrance of past heroes. The sun's fire burns eternally, keeping the cathedral as bright as day even in the darkness of night—a great miracle of the Creator God.

“Ha, history is always written by the victors,” said Sissa, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Quinn looked at him, his eyes questioning.

"Fourteen hundred years ago, the Primordial Flame was the name of that thing. It's just that now it's called the Sacred Flame of the Sun, and since all the heroes who participated in the war are dead, nobody objects."

"How do you know this name?"

"The history of the empire is a bit longer than you think. A nation is nothing more than a long-standing memory of its people. We just happen to be better at remembering things, but nobody writes such names in books anymore. The Sacred Flame of the Sun sounds much better than some primordial fire. Right?"

He gazed at the setting sun, which was already far on the horizon, and chuckled softly:

"The great god?" The sun set in silence, and only the smoke from the city chimneys answered him.

One by one, the lights in Caesar's Baths came on, signaling that the girls were getting up. They hurriedly put on makeup, making a ruckus. Customers began to enter the shops, and the aroma of wine and meat wafted from the kitchen. Across the river was a garment factory, where the creaking of sewing machines never ceased as night fell. Both were female factory workers, living different yet similar lives on opposite banks of the river.

"Logically speaking," Quinn asked casually, "why can't the sacred flame from the demolished Cathedral of Light in Eswell be used again? Why must we send people to Calest?"

"You're a teacher at the academy, how could you not know?"

Sissa stared at him with a smile.

"Actually, I only recently joined the company."

"No wonder."

Sissa politely stubbed out her cigarette and threw it into the large bin for kitchen waste.

"In retaliation, the Papacy split the college into four schools, leaving only Grindelwald. The college extinguished the sacred flame at the Papacy's Eswell Cathedral, which was the direct cause of the cathedral's closure."

"It's been extinguished?!" Quinn had never heard of this before.

Even Amamiya Nene didn't know about this, otherwise she would definitely have told me.

"I don't know exactly how they did it, and I know even less why they did it. During the Second Demon Extermination War, the Demon King's army attacked Aishwell but couldn't extinguish the fire in that church. Ha."

Xisa smiled knowingly.

"The sacred flame is as significant to humanity as the sun. If this were to be said, the academy would be condemned by the authorities. But for some reason, the Holy See hasn't publicized this, suffering in silence. The two sides have been in a cold war ever since."

"Oh, that happened in March. A few priests from the Vatican came into the city to search for people, but the academy didn't hesitate to kick them out. I wonder if they caught the people they were looking for."

Quinn laughed too, "Got him, huh? No matter how much they don't get along, the academy won't go against the Holy See on important matters."

"Something big?" Sissa suddenly turned her head. "What big thing?"

He stared at Quinn, still with that squinty-eyed smile, waiting for what was to come.

“That’s a matter concerning the demons, of course.” Quinn innocently met his gaze. “What else could it be?”

Sissa laughed heartily.

"Ha, I thought they came in to capture a hero, making such a big fuss."

"What is your opinion, Your Excellency Bishop, regarding the matter of the prophesied son?"

"I see with my eyes."

Sissa cupped her hands over her eyes, widening her eyelids to glance at her underwear: "Oh, abnormal vaginal discharge? Looks like I'll have work tonight."

“Then have a pleasant evening.” Quinn pointed to the scriptures in his arms. “I’ll trouble you to investigate this list. Please let me know if there’s any progress. Just have the lady at ticket window number nine at the train station call the Divination Department.”

Xisa grunted twice, it was unclear whether she was agreeing or not.

The Caesars Baths were already open for business in the evening.

Excluding prostitutes who solicit customers alone, brothels in major cities of the Southern Continent can be broadly divided into three categories. The lowest level is the brothel, which is ubiquitous in Westwell. Some prostitutes simply open their homes to customers, offering only the most basic services. Older, less attractive women leave for a few pennies. Among these are illegal brothels controlled by gangs, which are related to human trafficking and the unacceptable practice of child prostitution by religions. The tragedy involved is beyond words.

The upscale establishments are the clubs and nightclubs across the far avenue. The prostitutes there aren't called prostitutes; they call themselves singers or dancers, offering emotional support beyond basic services. Good performers can even become full-fledged prostitutes. A single night can easily cost a bag full of pounds. These are not places for the lower classes of Westville to afford.
The kind of place that's neither high-end nor low-end, stuck in the middle, is what the word "brothel" describes. For example, the stall run by Seven's family, or Caesar's Baths.

Most of them use "bathhouse" as a cover, and the actual services they provide include bathing. After all, having a tap for bathing is a luxury in the slums. They also provide meals at mealtimes and can be operated as a casino and tavern at night. In addition to these, the women are just an extra to attract customers. So don't be fooled by their low daily revenue in Westville.

Such establishments are lucrative in a mixed and chaotic place. They can't operate without the protection of gangsters. A significant portion of their monthly revenue goes to protection money, and they also have to support gangsters who come to patronize them for free.

Take, for example, the few men in front of Quinn.

He had just returned from the terrace and was preparing to leave discreetly when someone started causing trouble in the store—or rather, just assaulting someone.

It was easy to see at a glance that the child lying on the ground was the trigger, which displeased the men. Judging from the madam's attitude towards them, these fierce-looking white men were probably from the gang that protected this brothel. Judging from the family tattoos, they should be White Bandits. Their status was unclear, but they were not the superhumans mentioned in Quinn's files.

It is very common for children to be in brothels. After all, abortion is considered a sin in the doctrines of several mainstream religions. And accidents are unavoidable in this industry. Responsible women give birth and raise the child, while irresponsible women sell the child to human traffickers. This little girl looks about eight or nine years old. She was helping out in the kitchen and serving dishes. She didn't hold the plate properly and oil splashed onto a gangster. He raised his hand and slapped her.

This was a common occurrence in Westville. No one would criticize a grown man for arguing with a child. Prostitutes were already considered cheap, and their children were even less human. If they were beaten, that was that. The madam would then have to come over, apologize, and offer the boss a bottle of wine to cheer him up.

The problem was that the slap was a bit too hard, and it made the little girl bleed. A woman serving the guests nearby, who seemed to be her mother, saw her daughter being beaten like that and immediately became furious. She grabbed a plate and smashed it over her head, ready to fight to the death.

Caught off guard, the man's plate shattered on his forehead, drawing blood. Several of his companions immediately attacked, punching and kicking him, and the madam couldn't stop them. The surrounding customers were all waiting to see the spectacle. When the little girl saw her mother being beaten, she tried to rush forward but was kicked away. The poor little girl rolled twice and crashed into a table leg, crying in pain. One of her arms was probably broken.

The beating continued on the other side, and Quinn watched it all indifferently, somewhat surprised by his own calm demeanor.

In the past, witnessing such a scene would have been unbearable. Although he was not a warm-hearted person, most people who have received a modern education would not be indifferent to such things, and at the very least, would feel anger towards the perpetrators.

However, Quinn felt no anger at all. His reason told him that these people's behavior was despicable, but his emotions remained unmoved. Instinctively, he did not want to get involved and prepared to leave.

This is the first time that the "justice" that was lost after the Arcane Ritual was directly manifested.

So it turns out it wasn't just relationships that were affected.
Quinn adjusted his glasses. If vision problems could be fixed, what about morality? What the system took away could never be recovered.
My name is Qin Chuan. So what would Qin Chuan do?
Thinking this, he took a step forward and, without a ripple of emotion, kicked the man who had assaulted him away.

“Hey, righteous hero.” He paused, then casually slapped someone's facial bones, “No, Golden Wind.”

"They're here to cause trouble."

(End of this chapter)