Why is his holy light red?

Chapter 90 Preparations for a Big Scene

El made up an excuse, saying he needed to "find a way to contact the Holy Light Angel to discuss it," and then hurriedly left after pushing open the church door.

Mercury watched Al's departing figure. His dear old father's acting skills were getting worse and worse. He couldn't just make a phone call, so he had to arrange a date with the Holy Light Angel, right?

Mercury shook his head slightly. He never placed all his hopes on others. Who knew if that high and mighty "god among men" would be willing to help?

Ultimately, you have to rely on yourself to get things done.

Mercury looked away and projected the virtual map on his phone screen onto the peeling wall next to him. A dozen marked red dots were scattered like festering sores in various corners of the tree root area.

"We need to cover all these locations in seven days," Mercury said, pointing to the red dots on the wall. "However, when we pinpoint the monster's location, we mustn't alert it, lest the immortality technology relocate the people."

He turned to John and cut to the chase: "This job depends on you. Use your abilities to send your clones back over the past few months to scout these locations in advance."

John looked at the dense red dots on the map and shook his head decisively: "I'm afraid it's not safe. These coordinates are clearly the hideouts of various gangs manufacturing illegal enhancement agents, surrounded by sentries. Even if my clones go back in time, they can't magically gain the ability to infiltrate. If any clone gets killed inside, it will alert them as well. Then the current plan will be aborted."

"Then let's not go inside." Mercury reacted quickly, decisively cutting off the dead end of the original plan. "Don't bother checking what drugs are hidden inside. Just probe the perimeter, find out which gang controls these dozen or so hideouts, and dig out their boss's background. You can easily find out this kind of peripheral intelligence on the street by spending a little money; the risk is extremely low."

"If we extend the time frame for gathering information, starting from a year ago, it shouldn't be so easy to alert these people."

John stroked his chin, pondering for a few seconds. "That's something we can try. But—" He raised his eyelids, glancing at the dozen or so coordinates, "Give me at least two days."

Mercury raised an eyebrow: "Your cheat code even has a skill cooldown?"

"I can throw away as many clones as I want, no problem." John rolled his eyes, pointed to his temple, and said irritably, "But having dozens of clones collecting memories from different timelines flooding back into my brain at the same time could be fatal. I don't want my blood vessels in my brain to explode from processing an overload of junk information. Two days is the maximum amount of time I can handle."

"Deal made, in two days."

Mercury didn't press him any further. He turned his head and fixed his gaze on the black egg next to him, who was listening intently.

"Boss? Boss?" Black Egg felt a chill run down his neck from the intensely oppressive gaze.

"Once John gets the contact information for those gang leaders, you're in charge of sending out the invitations," Mercury said calmly, as if ordering takeout. "Send a mass invitation to them all. The location is the ruins on Elm Street. Invite them to come and meet us."

Black Egg froze, his mind not quite processing it: "Huh? Talk—talk about what?"

"Whatever." Mercury leaned back on the bench, his tone utterly indifferent. "Provocation, insults, extortion, fraud, even claiming you possess the exclusive formula for immortality technology and inviting them to a group sex session. Whatever disgusting, lame excuse you use, as long as these street thugs send people, it's fine. I only have seven days; I don't have time to kick down doors one by one."

Black Egg gasped in shock. He swallowed hard, feeling a jolt in his legs: "Boss, did this mean we've offended all the local bullies in the Tree Root District at once? Playing this big? What if—what if they don't take the bait?"

"Make up any reason you want, but you can't even lure people out, can you?" Mercury stared at him, leaving no room for negotiation. "If the sky falls, I'll bail you out."

Black Egg gritted his teeth and tentatively asked, "Really—really, any name will do?"

Mercury nodded nonchalantly.

Whether it was deception or coercion, Mercury didn't care. Flora only had seven days; he only wanted the result.

Black Egg swallowed hard, his voice slightly weak: "Okay—I'll try my best to handle it."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a cold, hard voice suddenly broke in from the side: "Send the invitation in my name."

Sister Maria had emerged from the inner chapel at some point and stood silently behind the bench. Her perpetually taut face showed no emotion, and her tone was firm: "Just write on the invitation that I, Maria, can't stand the mess they've made of the neighborhood lately. Tell them all to come over here and discuss in person how the future Roots District will be divided."

Mercury raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze over.

He didn't even notice when Sister Maria returned to the chapel.

"How is Flora?" Mercury asked, looking at her.

"Don't worry," Sister Mary replied calmly. "That child survived in a place like Black Olive, he's much stronger than you think."

Black Egg, who was holding his phone, scratched his head, his gaze shifting between the two of them. He hesitated before speaking, "Sister, you just said you wanted to use your name? Those gang members probably don't care about respecting the elderly and caring for the young—"

Sister Maria slightly raised her chin and said in a proud and confident tone, "Our family has been rooted in the Root District for decades, and our reputation hasn't completely crumbled yet. As long as someone speaks in my name, apart from those newbies who don't even know how to spell 'death,' none of those old fogies dare to refuse to show their faces."

Black Egg didn't respond immediately, but instead turned his probing gaze to Mercury.

Mercury thought for a moment, then nodded again.

Seeing that Mercury had given his approval, Black Egg breathed a sigh of relief and agreed, as his work would be much easier now.

"I—is there anything I can do to help?"

Emily, who had been completely marginalized, finally couldn't hold back any longer and walked up to Mercury.

Watching Mercury go to such lengths for Flora, who was as thin as a matchstick, even going so far as to provoke the entire Root District gang single-handedly, an indescribable bittersweet feeling welled up in Emily's chest.

Although she and Mercury didn't have any real relationship, she would rather be the one targeted by that nightmare than lose to a malnourished slum girl for such a strange reason.

Mercury stopped what he was doing, turned to look at her, and couldn't help but frown.

Emily is just an ordinary person. Although she is very helpful, she really can't be of much help in this situation.

"I don't need anything from you—" Mercury was about to give a curt and decisive refusal, but he suddenly changed his mind halfway through his sentence, saying, "No, wait. While there's still some time—Emily, I'd like to visit your father. Could you show me the way?"

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