Thousand-Faced Dragon

Chapter 215 Book Club

"A pitch-black tower, and a cursed black-haired princess lingering outside the window."

Thorns and venomous snakes entwine beneath the tower, while the Dark Guardians, commanded by the Black King, stand watch over all the gates.

Ah, what is the purpose of this man who has never known fear, this nameless hero?

For wealth? For beauty? For a crown? Or for the pitiful, cursed daughter of misfortune, destined to be hanged?

He swung his sword, cutting through the thorns and venomous snakes.

He roared, driving back the guards and the Black King's curses.

He climbed, guided by the moonlight and the birds.

High in the tower, under the moonlight, the hero stood by the window, reaching out his hand to the princess.
'Light, I have seen light, the light that belongs to me.'

Rean put down the handwritten pages; the poems and text on them bore the marks of handwriting.

Before him were numerous bookshelves filled with various ancient texts on history, humanities, and religion, while the poetry collection he held in his hands was what the attendees had just recited.

Several unfortunate souls had already fallen around him. Among them were a third-rate poet, a scholar, and even a middle-aged apprentice monk.

This is the address on the note: 21 Star Street, Devon, a three-story building.

Most buildings in this world that are of medium or high height are two or three stories high. This is not because everyone is so wealthy that they all live in villas, but because building materials are relatively stable when land is relatively cheap.

The building looked dilapidated, but Rean entered with ease. He had bought a ticket!
What do you know about the Whisperers?

Rean spoke calmly, explaining that he had rushed over immediately after receiving the note.

Even at night, some people still came and went from this old "town museum," but no one was in front of the trash exhibits. Rean easily found the mechanism leading to the basement and took down all the masked people who were gathering there.

There is no bleeding at the moment, simply because these people have very weak immune systems; most of them are not even considered professionals.

The opponent was so unprofessional that Rean was able to show mercy.

"We are, we are who we are, we are the Whisperers. This is just what the book club calls itself."

"Sir Knight, we are just ordinary scholars."

"Sir, is there some misunderstanding? We are just an ordinary reading group, and we have been doing this for thirty years. Wearing masks is our tradition; we are not cult members."

"The wrong person was arrested?" Rean smiled.

He touched the asymmetrical mask; the right side had black feathers, while the left side had octopus-like tentacles. The mask had four eyes, but they were of different sizes and were not symmetrical.

This is an unusually realistic depiction that does not conform to the aesthetics of ordinary people. According to the paladin's experience, this is basically the characteristic of a cultist, and it is very likely a distorted creation of some idol.

Rean has no evidence, but he's not a law enforcement officer either!

The Night Ranger is sometimes that fun; as long as you're confident, there's absolutely no need to follow certain restrictions.

I know you're a criminal, you know I know, everyone knows, but you have no evidence. Rean would never accept this situation. If he's confirmed to be a criminal, he would have no pressure to arrest you first and then interrogate you.

“You are indeed not cultists,” Rean said, looking at the faces. Their supernatural powers were practically nonexistent.

Rean has pretty much figured out about this "Whisperers' Book Club." It is indeed a book club with quite a history, and even has some connections in Radiant City.

Book clubs are a rather peculiar phenomenon in this world. As mentioned before, "knowledge" is extremely expensive. Even slightly rare books can cost several months' worth of income for an average family. Knowledge is power, and it's incredibly difficult for children from humble backgrounds to achieve great success, especially academic success.

Thus, the so-called book club came into being, where everyone pooled their money to buy books, exchange books, and read books together.

This actually fits the positioning of the "Devon District" quite well. It is the third or fourth largest district in the city, with commoners, merchants, and even some lower-middle-class nobles. It is a densely populated residential area with a decent environment, but it can also be seen as a lower-level replacement for the Glowing District.

In such an environment, there are not only many book clubs, but also a considerable number of members. This family museum, which has virtually no visitors, actually survives on the membership fees from the book clubs.

But reality always unfolds subtly.
"Your business is quite diverse, dealing in pirated books, banned books, handwritten copies, cult propaganda books, and fraud propaganda books."

"Well, everyone does it this way."

With more people involved, they become bolder. Illegal handwritten copies are just the beginning. These prohibited pamphlets and cult proselytizing books often come from low-level intellectuals who have a little knowledge and can read.

Book clubs can easily become community "academic cliques." If one or two members emerge as prominent figures in districts like Huiguang or Shangcheng, things get even more interesting. They often become organizations with strong execution capabilities, serving as the executors and lackeys of those powerful figures in other districts, constantly supplying "talents" upwards.

The nobles didn't really care about such "societies"; they also had their own "book clubs," such as various interest salons.

The Whisperers' Book Club is considered one of the better ones; at least for now, it's more about "book exchange," "fundraising to buy books," and "copying books."
"But your very name, and your regular gatherings, are the greatest blasphemy, the greatest malice."

For some beings, no elaborate rituals are needed; simply calling their name is enough to attract their attention.

In reality, those rituals are like when a passerby walks by and some ants spell out your name with sticks, you might take a closer look or even reach out to touch it out of curiosity.

Many great beings, like the snake, can be perceived simply by calling their names. Whether they are willing to come has nothing to do with your offerings, but only with their own willingness.

But if you were lost in the vast universe at the beginning, and a planet suddenly broadcast your name while you were bored or hungry.
"You've become a beacon for the Outer Gods and you don't even know it? Where are your superiors? Where is your guild leader?"

Rean glanced at them; these members seemed too ordinary.

"The president and vice president died suddenly two years ago, and the book club is now operating on its own."

Rean sighed. Many cults are like this: they appear to be legitimate and compliant businesses, and their staff and members are ordinary people earning wages.

They are just the shell of real cult members. Perhaps the core members have already achieved their goals and are continuing to do their own thing under different identities.

"Spying Evil."

As the soft light spread, the members, while surprised, also showed expressions of joy.

It turns out to be a paladin. There's no need to worry about being dealt with directly. Anyone might indiscriminately kill innocent people, but a paladin would never do that.

Two members had a faint red aura emanating from them, but they were clearly not villains, while most of the others were neutral. Rean, however, showed a surprised expression.

Rean raised his longsword and swung it sharply.

"Boom!"

The basement floor had cracked open again, releasing a stench and screams from below.

Rean looked down and immediately smiled.

"Heh, it seems I've found your guild leader."

(End of this chapter)