Today, they too are going to their deaths.

Inside the villa of the recruiter.

Unlike the uniforms worn by job seekers, the clothes here are downright luxurious.

The specially adjusted gaslights give the room a dim, yet not so dim, tone that it is impossible to see clearly, allowing visitors to fully enjoy a moment of leisure at night.

The heavy, neat bookshelf in the corner adds a touch of scholarly depth to the room, while the vase filled with ever-blooming flowers adds a touch of peculiar natural beauty.

A special kind of wood burned in the fireplace, its warm, fragrant aroma keeping the damp chill and frost outside the window. A gently turning player played classical music, bringing a sense of tranquility.

The recruiter gestured for Cui Xun to put his hat in the hat cabinet next to him, and then led Cui Xun to sit down at a long table covered with a tablecloth.

He then walked to the other end of the long table, lit two candles on a silver candlestick, and used the gently flickering light to create an atmosphere and illuminate the table, preventing any minor mishaps that might occur during the meal.

"I hope you like it here. The decor is a bit plain, but it's still decent." The recruiter's tone was indifferent, as if he genuinely thought the place was just so-so, but Cui Xun could sense the almost overflowing smugness in him.

This is indeed a nice place, but Cui Xun is more curious about what to eat tonight.

Traditional fish and chips? Stargazing pie with its eyes wide open? Or perhaps dry, bland turkey or mutton soup that wasn't properly cleaned?

Cui Xun was unfamiliar with the local cuisine, but he knew what kind of exquisite dishes a famous culinary desert could produce.

His gaze fell on the plate, and the recruiter opportunely lifted the lid of the plate on the table.

A rich aroma of meat, mixed with the scents of spices and wine, wafts over.

Cui Xun's amazed gaze fell on the plate.

The first thing that catches the eye is a large, perfectly cooked steak, its surface glistening with a caramelized sheen, pink juices oozing from the cut. Next to it are several roasted potatoes, sprinkled with coarse salt and rosemary, and a bowl of tenderly stewed carrots, their color as rich as a melting sunset.

A small dish of sauce rested on the edge of the plate. It emitted a sweet and sour aroma, which was quite refreshing.

These things are even steaming hot!

Cui Xun immediately judged that this was a supernatural phenomenon, and his gaze focused on the lid of the plate that had just been placed down.

Its edge is engraved with a fine pattern, and there is a strange gear mark on the copper button at the top.

"It's something from the Royal Academy of Sciences." The recruiter noticed Cui Xun's gaze and casually boasted, "There's a temperature-regulating device they invented in the lid's interlayer, which they say can keep it warm for six hours."

As he spoke, he took off his coat and draped it over the back of the chair, then sat down formally, revealing a bright smile: "My name is Corvo Gray, let's eat and talk."

Upon hearing this, Cui Xun unceremoniously picked up his knife and fork, cut off a piece of beef, dipped it in sauce, and put it in his mouth.

With a slight chew, the meat separates, and the juices melt on the tongue, the aroma of meat mixed with a strong sweetness dancing on the taste buds.

Aside from the portion size not quite matching his current physique, this was definitely a delicious meal. Even in the original world, it would be something to be enjoyed at a high-end restaurant, taken in photos, and savored while listening to the waiter's explanation.

I'm getting this free meal!

Gray had just laid the napkin on his lap when he leisurely explained, "This beef comes from select Angus cattle, with evenly distributed fat deposits and a tender, juicy texture..."

Gray was stunned as soon as the narration began.

Because Cui Xun had already started taking his second and third bites.

The knife and fork made a soft clinking sound on the porcelain plate, the rhythm steady and unhurried, yet very fast, as if they were completing a task, quickly processing the food on the plate.

But this was supposed to be his dinner!

As a polite, moral, and observant person, you shouldn't be fighting over dinner like that!

You should be pleased with the meal I prepared for myself, but regret that you've already eaten dinner. Then point out that this was prepared for myself, and that you shouldn't take what's offered. I then generously suggest sharing it, describing the highlights of the dinner while filling my own stomach, thus building rapport.

If he had known this would happen, he would have spent more money and wasted more time to send this hungry ghost to the restaurant first, serve him until he was full and satisfied, and then come here to discuss work.

Gray's gaze lingered on Cui Xun's face for a moment before slowly withdrawing it.

He sat up straight again, took the napkin from his lap, folded it, and placed it on the table. Then he picked up the decanter and poured himself half a glass of red wine.

His entire routine was unhurried, as if he had only intended to drink.

"The wine served with this meal is a Cabernet Sauvignon from Bordeaux," Gray said, swirling his glass in a steady tone. "It's a bit tannic, which goes well with red meat. However, I suggest you try a sip of carrot before drinking it; the sweetness will bring out the fruitiness in the wine."

Cui Xun did as instructed, took a bite of the carrot, and then smelled the aroma of the wine.

He didn't like drinking, but he could tell the combination was good, so he nodded in agreement.

Gray observed all of this and, finding amusement in the situation, deduced Cui Xun's birthplace.

The slightly different way of holding a knife, the casual eating habits, and the almost non-existent table manners suggest that this person must come from a place with customs completely different from Albion, but he must have lived in Albion for a period of time with his friends.

If he were solely responsible for handling various problems, these habits wouldn't have persisted for so long. And if he had just arrived in Albion, he wouldn't be so familiar with life here.

But Gray didn't delve into this question, because he realized that the friend who brought Cui to Albion was probably "gone."

He picked up his glass, took a sip, suppressed his hunger, and put on a well-trained composure.

Then, he continued to introduce the unique features of each dish, his tone both routine and nostalgic, as if he were reminiscing about something that had passed away.

With each dish he mentioned, his stomach would contract slightly, but his facial expression remained completely unchanged.

Only when the plate was filled with nothing but oil and gravy did Cui Xun finally put down his knife and fork, wipe his mouth with a napkin, sit up straight, and adopt an attitude of wanting to get down to business.

"Now, you can tell me what task you've assigned me."

Gray tried to adjust his mindset, put the wine glass aside, leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands in front of his stomach, adopted a professional attitude, and said, "Of course, I will make sure you know exactly what you are going to do."

"However, before we get to the specifics, I need to give you some background. Do you know what the Royal Society has been doing in recent years?"

Cui Xun did not answer, but just looked at him.

If Wang Yu were here, even if he were also a transmigrator who knew nothing, he could probably talk endlessly and weave a flawless backstory, extracting countless pieces of information without revealing his own background. But Cui Xun was not good with words.

Gray mentally sketched out another image of Cui Xun before continuing, "The Academy of Sciences is currently most concerned with machines that can completely replace humans."

"They have a presence in all walks of life, including textiles, mining, transportation, and forging."

"A steam-powered loom can replace twenty skilled workers, an automatic forging hammer can put an entire blacksmith shop out of work, and a giant mining machine can eliminate all the miners in the area."

His voice was devoid of emotion, as if he were reading a report.

"Over the past three years, more than 40,000 workers have been laid off from factories in Birmingham and Manchester alone. Machines don't need rest, they don't need wages, they don't resist, they almost never make mistakes, they don't die from overwork, and they don't ask for compensation."

"Factory owners like them, but hate troublesome workers."

"So the workers were driven out of the factory and flooded the streets, but there were no jobs on the streets either."

“Some people starved to death, some stole, and some joined gangs. Sheriffs across the country reported that theft, robbery, and arson had more than doubled. And the most common crime,” Gray paused, “was corpse theft.”

Cui Xun's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"Medical anatomy requires corpses, and the Royal Academy of Sciences also needs them for research. The only legal way is through the gallows, but there aren't nearly enough of those, so some people have started targeting the homeless." Gray's voice deepened. "Slit throats, load them onto trucks, sell them to middlemen, who then sell them to medical schools. A fresh corpse can fetch twenty small gold coins, enough for a family to live decently for half a year."

He paused, his gaze falling on the candlelight, as if looking through it at another flame about to ignite.

"So the workers gave up their usual petty squabbles and actually came together. They called this organization, which was entirely composed of workers, a 'trade union,' and then they elected representatives, drafted bylaws, and truly saw themselves as a force to be reckoned with, making demands on the factory owners."

"Raise wages, shorten working hours, and reduce machinery."

"How did the factory owners respond?" Cui asked.

"What do you think?" Gray countered.

Cui Xun didn't reply. He knew very well that even in different worlds, some of the same things would inevitably happen.

But hearing other people tell these stories is a different feeling altogether.

"Last month, the Viscount Harrington of Lancashire was attacked on his way home from the factory. His carriage was stopped, the coachman had two broken ribs, and the Viscount himself was dragged out of the carriage and punched in the face. He didn't die, but the news spread throughout high society."

Five days later, the unions in Manchester organized a march of 300 people. The sheriff called in mounted police to disperse the crowd, and six people were trampled to death. Three days later, a union representative was found dead in his rented room with his throat slit, in the exact same manner as those body thefts.

"Then, a nobleman died. The prevailing conclusion is that he failed to follow safety regulations while inspecting the factory and accidentally fell."

The room was quiet for a moment, and Gray was also a little frightened when he said those words.

He paused for a moment, then got up and took out an investigation report from behind a bookshelf, spread it on the table, and changed the subject: "At the same time that these events occurred, a sect called the Serpent Worship Cult began to operate in aristocratic circles."

Cui Xun's fingers curled slightly. He suspected that this was a local sect. After all, the fear and worship of snakes had been a part of human history, leading to similar myths in many countries. But he couldn't help but hope that the snake-worshipping sect he imagined really existed in this world.

That way, he can continue his revenge.

"What they're promoting is quite interesting," Gray said, flipping through the investigation report.

Tucked inside were several charcoal sketches, depicting snake patterns and some kind of ritual scene, which Cui Xun found quite familiar.

Gray's addition further corroborated Cui Xun's sense of familiarity, saying, "The Snake Worship Cult promotes the idea that snakes shed their skin, and each shed skin makes one younger. Belief in the Snake God can give people the power to shed their skin continuously, ultimately achieving immortality."

"Does the emerging aristocracy believe in this?" Cui asked.

He actually knew the answer. In the technologically advanced modern world, such cults can directly infiltrate government departments. For countries in the steam age, it would be even more difficult for cowardly nobles to disbelieve in such things.

"Even if some nobles felt that the Serpent Cult didn't actually have the power of immortality and was just a cult that popped out of nowhere, they still gained quite a few noble followers." Gray flipped through the investigation report and sneered, "The emerging nobles are different from the old nobles. Their wealth comes from factories and trade, not from land and bloodline."

"They don't have a deep affection for 'tradition,' but they are very interested in 'the future.' The snake worship religion tells them that a snake is still a snake after shedding its skin, but it is stronger and younger, which sounds a lot like the self-image of the emerging aristocracy."

Cui Xun was silent for a few seconds, then asked a question.

Who is the originator of the Snake Worship Cult?

Gray looked up at him.

"I don't know," he answered readily. "That's why I came to you."

With that, Gray stood up, walked to the window, and drew the curtains, just as the gaslight was turned off.

Only candlelight and the glow of the fireplace remained in the room, casting long shadows of the two people.

Gray, with his back to the firelight and his face hidden in the shadows, spoke in a low voice as if talking to himself: "The wave of layoffs, the labor movement, the attacks on nobles, the expansion of the Serpent Cult... all these things are connected into a great web of conspiracy."

"The people behind me believe that there must be a common source behind all this chaos. Our job is to find that person, or those people."

"And then?" Cui asked.

"Then kill them." Gray's tone was as if he were saying, "Then have a cup of tea," but clearly, he wasn't at peace with himself. He wasn't even sure about the outcome. "Let the Kingdom of Albion be stabilized again."

He stared at the curtains, not daring to turn around, as if worried that Cui Xun would turn around and leave. But he still earnestly told him what to be careful about: "Let me tell you frankly, this job is very dangerous. You have to deal with union members, deal with factory owners, infiltrate noble salons, and you may even have to face the core members of the Serpent Cult. People could die at any of these stages."

Ha, it sounds like some person, whether a royal agent or a loyal subordinate of a royalist nobleman, did nothing but waste money.

But Cui Xun didn't care much about such things.

He only cared about one thing: "What about the compensation?"

Gray turned around and gave him a slight smile, as if he wanted to laugh but tried to hold it back.

He solemnly replied, "A noble title."

"Not the kind of honorary title you can buy for a few thousand gold coins. Those things are useless except for printing a title on your business card. I'm talking about a title with a fief, privileges, various business benefits, and the ability to attend royal banquets."

"And for you, the most crucial thing is probably knowledge."

"I can't give you an absolute guarantee in this regard, but once you become a royal-certified hero, you should be able to acquire knowledge that even a strong person like you can use."

The candlelight flickered in Gray's grey-blue eyes, and he finally couldn't help but force a smile, asking excitedly, "So, are you interested?"

Cui Xun affirmed, "Yes, give me some funds for the operation, and all the written records you can provide, and I can start working right now."

"Also, if anyone else in your organization gets a position in the Serpent Cult, or needs manpower to storm a stronghold, please be sure to come to me."

"I still have a score to settle with them."

"Finally, my name is Cui Xun. Cui is my surname and Xun is my given name. You can just call me Cui Xun."