Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

MI9, Headquarters, a high-class meeting room.

The aroma of black tea rose gently into the air.

But the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped to freezing point.

The man sitting behind the desk was wearing a crisp major general's uniform and had a face with strong features and a slightly gloomy expression.

That was Major General Chunus Korger, the deputy director of MI9.

A true demigod.

Orion held the exquisite bone china teacup, his fingertips slightly cold from nervousness.

But the expression on his face remained the calm one befitting a "deciphering expert".

"Mr. Rosago, or rather... Consultant Zangwell?"

Major General Chunas suddenly revealed a knowing smile.

Those eyes, seemingly capable of piercing through one's soul, were fixed intently on Orion:

"We must admit that your 'algorithm' puts our cryptography experts to shame."

They couldn't decipher even a single byte of the symbols on that manuscript.

Orion put down his teacup:

"That is the embodiment of Emperor Roselle's thinking, Major General."

The logic of mortals cannot reach the realm of genius.

"But your translation is correct."

Chunas took a top-secret document from the drawer and casually tossed it onto the table:

"We sent back a message from the 'eyes' in Trier."

The Intis did indeed conduct underwater tests at that coordinate.

While it's not some kind of "deep-sea ghost," it is indeed some kind of new type of underwater vehicle.

"That's enough."

Chunas stood up, and the oppressive aura of a demigod instantly vanished.

Instead, it received official recognition.

He handed me a dark blue badge with the MI9 emblem on the cover.

"In view of your exceptional contributions, and the joint guarantee from the Levitt family and Earl Hall."

You are now a "Special External Declassified Advisor" for MI9.

"This document can exempt you from questioning in many situations, and even to some extent..."

We will mobilize the resources of the police and the church to support your work.

"Of course, the premise is—for the sake of the kingdom."

Orion took the documents, feeling the cool touch of the cover.

He knew that he had finally obtained this amulet, which was more valuable than gold pounds.

That piece of "waste paper" full of garbled Chinese characters became his pass to walk freely in Backlund at that moment.

……

Monday morning.

Earl Hall's mansion in Queens.

When Orion stepped into the luxurious study again, the atmosphere was unusually somber.

Earl Hall sat behind the enormous mahogany desk, his brow furrowed.

His eldest son, Lord Hilbert Hall, stood before his desk, his face a mixture of resentment and anxiety.

Beside her, Miss Audrey Hall, who looked like an exquisite doll, was sitting quietly in the corner, listening to the conversation while holding her golden retriever named Susie.

"...Father, the Air Pollution Investigation Committee is pressing us hard!"

Hibbert's voice betrayed a hint of anxiety:

"Ordinary people are protesting, newspapers are criticizing, but factory owners are crying poverty!"

I simply can't write that damn investigation report!

If I investigate thoroughly, I'll offend all my allies!

Count Hall was about to reprimand him when he looked up and saw Orian walking in without knocking.

"Mr. Zangwell?" The count was taken aback.

Orion neither bowed nor exchanged pleasantries.

He walked straight up to Lord Hilbert.

Those deep eyes hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses scanned the other person's sleeve, which was stained with a trace of ink, like a scanner.

And that family pinky ring that had been unconsciously turned countless times.

Lord Hippo

Orion's voice was calm and indifferent, instantly taking control of the entire room's discourse:

"Judging from how often you rub your pinky ring, and that smudge of cheap ink on your cuff from repeatedly revising your drafts..."

"You're not worried about 'how to control pollution'."

You're anxious about how to write a beautiful report that seems full of humanitarian concern without actually cleaning up the pollution, aren't you?

Hippostat froze.

The shame of having his dark side exposed at a glance made his face turn red.

Earl Hall's eyes lit up, he waved for Hilbert to shut up, and then looked at Orion:

"Now that you've figured it out, Your Excellency, what is your suggestion?"

"Redefining the problem."

Orion walked to the wall chart in the study and pointed heavily at the dense black dots representing small and medium-sized factories in the eastern district.

"Lord Hippo, why can't you write a report?"

Because you're trying to persuade those vampires to "have a change of heart."

"That's futile."

Orion turned around, looked at the father and son who held power, and offered an unconventional solution:

"What we need to do is recommend that the committee establish a 'Royal Air Quality Monitoring Service'."

"Then, set the emission standards firmly."

The highest-specification dust filtration system must be installed.

"Of course, we hold the patent for this device."

Earl Hall raised an eyebrow:

"This will cause many small factories to close down, and they will protest that we are engaging in monopoly."

"Then let them go bankrupt!"

Orion's tone was cold, but a chilling light, like that of a judge, shone deep within his eyes:

"Your Excellency, have you visited those small factories?"

They used the lowest quality coal with the highest sulfur content.

Without exhaust fans, workers inside won't survive more than three years without getting black lung disease!

Their "low cost" is because they treat workers' lives as fuel!

"Our 'monopoly' this time is a legal 'massacre' of these unscrupulous workshops in the name of justice!"

"Crush them, then let our big factories—"

Large factories with sophisticated ventilation systems and higher wages are taking over their market share.

"This isn't just business; it's called... good money driving out bad money."

Count Hall was silent for a few seconds, then clapped his hands and laughed.

The deadly predicament that plagued the eldest son was so casually transformed into an even sharper sword.

The look in his eyes when he looked at Orion was no longer just admiration, but rather a deep reliance on and eagerness for the "core brain" of the family.

Hibbert was greatly relieved and even cast an almost worshipful, grateful glance at Orion.

At the same time, Orion felt the spirituality within him throb slightly with joy.

Leverage existing trends to shape your destiny.

The digestion process of the "Astrologer's" potion quietly progressed a little further at this moment.

However, at this very moment when both host and guests were enjoying themselves.

"But……"

In the corner, Audrey Hall couldn't help but speak up.

Although she felt something was off, she also felt that this logic seemed... somewhat reasonable?

"But...the workers in those closed factories will lose their jobs..."

Orion turned around and walked toward the innocent noblewoman.

He leaned slightly forward, his tone becoming gentle yet firm.

"Dear Miss Hall."

He looked into Audrey's pure eyes:

"Simply giving alms won't save them; it will only feed more unscrupulous bosses who exploit them."

"If you truly sympathize with them, you should pray that our plan succeeds."

"Because only we can use the strongest measures to completely destroy those cannibalistic black market workshops..."

"Only then will those workers have the opportunity to enter our new factory, which has ventilation ducts."

They were given a meager salary, but one that at least wouldn't make them cough up blood and die before they turned thirty.

Orion reached out and gently patted Susie's head, uttering the truly "devil's lesson":

"Kindness requires teeth, miss."

"Sometimes, to protect your flock, you have to be more ruthless than a wolf."

Audrey was stunned.

She felt that the shell she had built around herself, called "innocence," had been shattered.

But what shone in was not darkness, but a light called "power".

Is this what Mr. "The Hanged Man" meant by... the rules of the adult world?

……

afternoon.

Streets in Queens.

Orion boarded the carriage that was already waiting by the roadside.

Inside the carriage, Emlyn White was lovingly adjusting the skirt of the doll in her arms, completely uninterested in what Orion had just done.

"Back to the church?" Emlyn asked without looking up.

"No."

Orion glanced at his pocket watch, his expression grave.

Faced with Jason Beria, a "demon" on the verge of losing control, he still lacks a trump card that can absolutely restrain him.

He looked at his arrogant teammate and used reverse psychology:

Emlyn, I've been thinking about it.

You vampires always boast about your heritage, but aside from those old bottles of red wine...

Do you still have any truly powerful sealed artifacts left?

"For example... top-tier stuff that can turn even 'demons' to ashes?"

"Are you questioning the great vampire clan?"

Emlyn jerked his head up as if his tail had been stepped on, his red eyes filled with offended rage:

That's your human ignorance!

Lord Nibais Audra's underground vaults are overflowing with the spoils of the Fourth Age!

"Even the sacred relics of the 'Eternal Sun' Church have been sealed away in the depths of darkness as a form of glory!"

"An eternal blazing sun?"

Orion's pupils contracted slightly.

That is the absolute nemesis of "demon".

"Then stop talking nonsense, Emlyn."

Orion opened the car door directly, made a "please" gesture, and his tone was urgency that left no room for argument:

"Take me there now."

"If it's really as amazing as you say..."

I have a sufficient budget to acquire that ancient, existing "friendship."

Emlyn paused for a moment:

"Now? But..."

"Now."

Orion glanced at the sky, his eyes sharp:

"We only have one hour."

"If you don't want your doll to be burned to ashes in future battles, get on the bus now."

Emlyn gritted his teeth, grabbed the doll, and climbed into the carriage, arrogantly raising his chin:

"Hmph, consider yourself lucky, you country bumpkin!"

"To Villa Audra."

"Today I'll make an exception and show you what the true... Fourth Era foundation is all about."