My magic panel is too numerical.

"You are...that lynx?"

Pharos glared and met the lynx's amber-colored, pale gold eyes.

Its fur is orange-yellow, its body is fat and large, and its limbs are exceptionally agile compared to ordinary house cats. Its short tail is a smudge of black.

The lynx lazily scratched its chin with its hind paw, as if nodding: "Yes, Your Majesty, meow!"

"This...King?" Pharos was taken aback.

"...It's the A-rank magical beast 'Blood Cat' from the Sacred Forest. It has dominance over certain areas, and judging by its physique, it should be a cat king." Miss Raven diligently explained.

As expected, it's a magical beast tamed by Miss Christina; it sounds quite powerful.

"Lady Christina said to be careful lately. Dawntown might be a bit unsettled. Meow. If anything happens, go to the detective agency to see her. You know, she's the landlady of 21 Beek Street now. Meow." The lynx spoke casually, looking impatient, and then it stretched out its paw.

"Thank you for informing Lord Elvis." Pharos looked at the cat's paws for a moment, puzzled. "Is there anything else you require?"

"How can you be so ill-mannered, meow! I've come all this way, climbing over so many rooftops and crossing so many streets to remind you, and you don't even show any appreciation? Meow!"

So, he wanted something in return? Pharos's lips twitched. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what Lord Elvis liked?"

"Dried fish, ham, bacon, steak, pork chop, chicken cutlet, anything goes, meow, I'm not picky! Meow."

Frustrated, Pharos went downstairs to get a piece of beef that Aunt Anna had prepared the day before, and sent Elvis away.

Miss Crow said indignantly, "Look at them! Cats are such lowly, greedy, shameless... low-IQ creatures. All they think about is pleasure!"

She used almost every adjective she could muster to insult the young lynx.

It seems Miss Crow's education level is rather low; she's not even very good at swearing... Pharos thought to himself.

In his previous life, as a citizen of the Eastern 996 Blessed Country, he was influenced by the Spanish dialect from a young age and could curse for half an hour without repeating himself.

However, Pharos did feel a sense of unease. Was Dawntown unsafe lately? Had something happened?

At the dinner table, the family enjoyed a happy and harmonious meal of beetroot yogurt soup.

Uncle Anthony was still looking at the newspaper with a relaxed expression, muttering a few words to himself, while Aunt Anna looked a little unwell, as if she was somewhat tired.

"Oh dear, it seems a wanted criminal has arrived in Dawn Town recently. He committed quite a few murders just yesterday, and some of them even had their entire faces peeled off! Oh, that's really scary. You two should take the carriage to school these days and be careful."

Uncle Anthony said with lingering fear.

Has that white giant struck again? Pharos keenly sensed.

"Eat your food and stop saying such unlucky things!" Aunt Anna snapped.

Hmm? Aunt Anna hasn't been in a good mood lately. Is it because of a problem at work?

Pharos, ever observant, asked with concern, "Aunt Anna, has something been wrong at the company lately?"

Aunt Anna got angry when she mentioned this: "Isn't that right? The port is about to receive another batch of homeless 'salarymen'. You know, those salarymen don't even consider themselves human and are willing to work 12 hours a day."

"Isn't that great? These days, you have to be willing to work hard to make money," said Eileen, the younger sister, expressing a sentiment appropriate for her age.

They are full of energy and have not yet experienced the harsh realities of society.

Aunt Anna complained, "That's true, but those 'wage earners' are desperately driving down wages, devaluing labor. Now that the economy is down, our damn boss has a reason to say, 'If you don't work, there are plenty of others who will,' and he wants us to work 12-hour days from now on, or he'll lay us off."

This boss is inhuman... Pharos's heart sank. He was used to this kind of thing; in another world, it happened every day.

"Auntie, what's the name of your company again? I'd like to avoid it."

"It's the Corleone textile factory," Aunt Anna sighed.

Corleone? Pharos was taken aback.

Isn't this my good brother's family business? Perhaps I can help my aunt a little.

"By the way, what is a 'Salaryman'?" Eileen noticed the blind spot.

Uncle Anthony, who was well-informed, replied, "Oh, they are refugees. Their former empire was called the 'Salt Empire,' but it was destroyed. The main ethnic group was enslaved, and those who had the opportunity to escape the country are called 'Salt People.'"

"Those 'salarymen' have been slaves for hundreds of years, they don't know how to love themselves at all, and they still force everyone to work overtime together." Aunt Anna took a vicious bite of her bread.

"Say less. The Empire has rules that the lives of 'Wage People' are also lives. Be careful not to be politically incorrect," Uncle Anthony reminded him again.

Pharos naturally brought the concept of "slave people" into his previous life, referring to African slaves in the 17th and 18th centuries, as pitiful creatures colonized by powerful forces.

Although the empire had long ago introduced relevant policies.

First, coastal cities must accept and resettle "salary workers".

Second, discrimination against "salary workers" is prohibited, with violators facing fines or even criminal charges, a practice commonly known as "salary workers are more valuable than life."

Faros didn't dwell on it too much and changed the subject: "What's the deal with that wanted criminal?"

"It's said that he's a major wanted criminal by the church who recently escaped to Castia City and might infiltrate Dawn Town. Moreover, the person in charge of this matter is the infamous 'Agent'."

"Agent?"

"Agent?"

Pharos and Eileen spoke in unison.

It seems that the wanted criminal is quite a figure! No wonder Miss Christina came to inform me so early in the morning… Pharos thought to himself.

…………

Before going to school, Pharos would wrap the raven in a black cloth bag so that he could carry it with him.

Miss Serena still hasn't arrived at the Holy Temple Academy.

As expected, Pharos was punished by being made to stand at the door. He hadn't slept well yesterday, and he even started snoring during class today.

He didn't see his best friend in the hallway, so he simply skipped class.

Chenxi Town Center.

I had planned to learn some magic at the tutoring class, since I'd already paid the money, so why not learn it?

Unfortunately, Miss Iris also took the day off today. There was a recent family emergency, so taking the day off was unavoidable.

Finally, Pharos had no choice but to find a blacksmith shop and repair Raven's sword guard.

In the afternoon, after lunch.

Pharos was preparing to go to the Church of Dawn to find someone to teach him how to use the Holy Sword's "exclusive skill".

Tonight I'll be attending my close friend Roman's birthday dinner.

"Sometimes... I feel like a little jinx..." Pharos muttered to himself.

This feeling was unpleasant; he felt like he was a bit like that "Death God Elementary School Student."

As various thoughts flashed through Pharos's mind, he suddenly felt a jolt in his heart.

This was a premonition from the "spirit," and he suddenly looked up and around.

Then, my gaze froze, and I unexpectedly spotted an acquaintance.

…………

Castile, Castile Cathedral.

The building is constructed of pure white bricks and tiles, with three pointed towers at the very top adorned with extravagant gold trim. The sides are connected by dozens of massive buttresses that curve upwards and downwards, and stained-glass windows and countless exquisite sculptures complete the final embellishment.

As the factory of the empire, with its prosperous economy and cheap labor, this church is quite grand.

There were only two people at the round table in the conference room.

Cardinal Byron, the head of the Castilian church, voluntarily gave up the main seat and sat in the second seat.

In his original seat sat a tall man with pure gold hair.

The man looked like a man with strong features, long blond hair, and a gloomy but handsome face that was full of "bad mood".

His voice was deep and powerful as he said, "Byron, you don't look well."