Sir! Don't close the net!

“Just think of it as a new play. Didn’t you want that jewelry? I’ll buy it for you after this is over,” Li Yili patted her forehead. “Please be understanding for now. After a month, we can do whatever we want, every day can be a lavish affair.” (Monthly fee (Group: [Misancious Novel Transfer Station 1 937929266])

**)6135

Valkyrie raised her head, pondered for a while, then raised an eyebrow and tentatively asked, "Are you sure you just want to wear those ordinary loungewear?"

"Yes, yes, you can just wear regular loungewear during this time."

"You don't need me to wear those little toys? Are you going for the pure love route today? You still have a chance to add conditions."

Li Yili sighed, rubbing her forehead, "I've always just had a pure love for it, haven't I?"

“I understand, I won’t wear underwear,” Valkyrie gave Li Yili an OK sign with a serious expression.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Executive Officer————"

Abu Jean, carrying a briefcase in his left hand and waving his right hand vigorously, jogged up to Al-Jonor. Just as he was about to speak, he felt a surge of heat rise from his throat, and he gasped for breath, his hands supporting his knees.

“No rush, take your time,” Al-Jiong took a deep breath, trying to make his expression less serious, and patted Abu Jean on the back.

“Phew—Executive, I’ve searched all over Guoweiton, big and small, I’ve looked everywhere related to grain trading, because they heard that you needed it, they gave me all the account books from the past few years!” Abu Jean patted his chest.

"These past few years?"

Al-Chonno frowned subconsciously. They needed to find something on Li Yili, who was suspected of being an undercover agent from another department who was smuggling supplies of black goat calves. Li Yili had only joined the company in March of this year, which meant that Guo Weidun only had accounts related to Li Yili in March of this year.

前

There's no point in investigating several years' worth of accounting records.

But when he thought about the findings and deductions from the investigation at the Guoweiton Clinic, Al-Jeanor had a strong feeling that what they were really investigating might be the ledgers of Li Yili before she joined the Black Goat's young.

Along with the strong premonition came a chill that ran down my spine.

This meant he had to confront Dela Pal directly. In the past, he might have investigated without any scruples, but today, his psychiatrist Jeff made him realize a terrifying possibility.

His lack of fear of Dela Pal's status as a chosen one was predicated on Dela Pal's stable mental state. The chosen one's part would be suppressed by the organization's network of interests and could only stand before him as a branch leader.

But what will happen if Dela Pal, as a chosen one, has already lost control and is using medication to suppress her symptoms to investigate the accounts of a near-mad chosen one who is lying to herself that she is not out of control?

In this Gowerton, there is only one Chosen One, Dela Pal. Only another Chosen One can defeat a Chosen One; crushing an ordinary person like him is easier than crushing an ant.

He was not afraid of death, but if he died, there would be no possibility of Gowwitton's séance being completed.

He knew very well that the fact that the headquarters chose Guo Weiton to perform the séance was definitely not a coincidence; only Guo Weiton could perform the séance!

"Executive?"

Abu Jean waved his hand cautiously in front of the silent El-Jonor, tentatively probing.

"What's wrong? Are you tired? It's okay, I can handle these ledgers by myself..."

"Abu, are you free tonight?" Al-Chonno let out a long sigh of relief. "Let's go out for a late-night snack."

"Huh?! But there are still many accounts that haven't been checked."

“This is also part of the job,” Al-Jiongno said, patting Abu Jean on the shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Why Are They So Confident?

Dela Pal's residence is quite unique. Like Li Yili's, it is located some distance from Guoweiton. However, unlike Li Yili's large ranch that is close to nature, Dela Pal's residence was originally converted from an abandoned monastery.

The Gothic attic is set against a Romanesque background, and below it seems to be an even older foundation. Rather than a novel duplex, it looks more like layers that have been built up by generations to cover something up.

Of course, none of this mattered to Li Yili. He had no interest in this strange-looking building. Living in such a place for too long would make even a normal person become abnormal.

At least in Li Yili's eyes, Dela Pal, who had been living in this residence converted from a monastery since arriving in Guoweiton, was always abnormal. This included, but was not limited to, the fact that despite being the highest-ranking person in Guoweiton, he did not employ many servants like the Wilson family, and only had an old butler who came to Guoweiton with Dela Pal.

The oak door slowly opened, revealing a pale, loose face covered with overlapping wrinkles and age spots resembling fungi. If it weren't for the cloudy eyes still moving, Li Yili would have thought she was seeing a ghost.

"Good evening, Mr. Levi Esti Richard, please follow me."

The elderly man in the wheelchair gave a weak greeting, then slowly moved his wheelchair along the deep corridor. Li Yili looked around while holding onto the oak door, muttered a few words to herself, closed the door, and followed the old butler.

------

“Hey—Yoran, come sit here, come sit here.”

Marcel, who was sitting at a stall, got up, pulled out the chair next to him, and waved enthusiastically to Yoran.

Yolan's gaze lingered on Marcel's collar for a moment before he breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, waved, and sat down next to Marcel. "You never used to ask me out at night."

“There wouldn’t have been such an opportunity before,” Marcel shrugged and waved quite casually at the stall owner who was wiping cups. “Boss, warm up two glasses of wine and two plates of potato chips. By the way, you’re about to close up shop, so you must have some meat left over. It’ll probably spoil by tomorrow. We’ll take a loss and pay you to get rid of it.”

Yolan completely relaxed, looked around, and joked, "Yes, boss, it seems that only we can help you with this."

The stall owner rolled his eyes and placed the wiped cups in front of Yolan and Marcel. "Sorry, we only have potatoes left today."

"Really?" Marcel asked, his face full of surprise. "Didn't you always have a lot of unsold goods left over?"

“It wasn’t this busy before. More people can’t go home, so my business is booming,” the stall owner thought for a moment and then picked up a cup and clinked it against Yolan and Marcel’s cups. “It will only get busier in the future. If you want to eat in this world, you can make a reservation during the day and get a slight discount.”

"You make it sound like I can't go home," Marcel said, his face darkening. "We're men with happy families, aren't we, Yolan!"

“People with happy families wouldn’t be drinking at a cheap place like this at a time like this,” the stall owner said, toying with his glass and nodding towards the pub in the distance, surrounded by gaslight lamps. “All the happy families are there. Luckily, there are more unhappy families in Guoweiton than happy ones.”

That way, they won't starve to death.

“I’m telling you… if you keep going like this, you’ll really starve to death,” Marcel said, his lips twitching.

"is it?"

Yolan held his cup and watched the stall owner and Marcel bickering with a hint of envy. He wanted to join in the bickering, but every time he tried to speak, he felt inexplicably uneasy. He, the stall owner, and Marcel seemed to be different kinds of people.

He didn't know why things were like this. He was clearly living under someone else's roof, and could only watch helplessly as others' lives improved while his own status became increasingly lower.

But their confidence and carefree attitude made him, who was already under a lot of pressure, feel a little overwhelmed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Executive! Over here!"

Despite saying things like "That's not good," "There's still a lot to do," and "Now is not the time to relax," Abu Jean waved excitedly at El-Jonor.

“Got it,” Al-Jiong scratched the back of his head, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He had almost forgotten that Abu Jean was still a young man. “Calm down.”

“Because, before, I could only stay at home and sleep at night,” Abu Rang scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “Although I don’t know why, my family wouldn’t let me go out after the sun went down, saying it was too dangerous.”

For him, who was full of energy as a child, being forbidden to go out at night was something hard to understand. Of course, now that he's working, he doesn't care so much anymore. The existence of the starry sky makes the only difference between night and day the sun is that there is a sun during the day and not at night. Work is mentally and physically demanding, and all the people he knows are from the workplace. When he gets home, he can only fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“I heard that long ago, the nights were so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, and just walking on the street was a dangerous thing, and something dangerous was lurking in the darkness,” Al-Jiongno recalled.

“Eh… that’s hard to imagine. So it’s much safer now, right?” Abu Jean tried to imagine the starless night that El Giono had described.

“Probably. I’ve heard that Hagen doesn’t distinguish between day and night, and people need to work every moment. It’s constantly telling everyone what the richest and most prosperous city in the world is,” Al-Chonno shrugged.

“It sounds so lively, completely different from Guoweidun,” Abu Jean remarked. “When I was a child, my mother told me that man-eating monsters would roam around at night, which is why there were so few people at night.”

Only after becoming an employee of Sheep Village did he realize that the reason why there was no one in Guoweidun at night was simply because they were poor, there wasn't much work, and there weren't many opportunities to do anything but sleep.

“There’s only one nearly ruined temple in Guoweidun, how could there be any monsters there?” Al-Jiong raised his hand and patted Abu Jean on the back.

“Hahaha—that’s true,” Abu Jean chuckled awkwardly before putting his hands on his hips. “Then, Executor, let’s go in quickly. I’ve wanted this for a long time. Hmm? Executor? What are you looking at?”

Abu Jean took a few steps forward with shining eyes, only to find El Gion standing still, staring straight at him.

Abu Jean blinked, followed El Giono's gaze, and his expression immediately fell, looking pitifully at El Giono.

"Let's go eat there."

Al-Jiong pointed to the rather simple-looking stall with only two customers.

Abu Jean opened his mouth, wanting to protest, because the stall didn't look like it had anything good to eat, but since Al-Jiong had spoken, he could only obey.

Chapter Twenty-Four: I heard that the statues used to be very explicit, and some even failed to pass censorship.

Perhaps because it was converted from a monastery, the living room of the Della Par family was very large. As soon as Li Yili entered the living room, she saw a huge stained glass window. Under the starlight, an eerie halo flowed onto a statue covered with moss.

Since the master, Dela Pal, had not yet arrived and the old butler had moved away like a ghost, Li Yili, who was a little bored, wandered around the moss-covered statue.

Before his transmigration, he had seen similar statues in the news. They were two Buddha statues covered in moss, seemingly a feature of some temple. Visitors could scoop up a spoonful of water and pour it on the Buddha statues' heads to moisten the moss. As the tiny moss multiplied, a human face emerged. No matter how benevolent the expression was, he still felt it was the underworld, especially since such an unnatural thing had become a wonder praised by everyone under human cultivation.

However, it seems that the Buddha statue was eventually cleaned up by a kind passerby.

This was incredibly gratifying, and what pleased him most was that the temple's director stated that the Buddha statue had lost its original value.

Indeed, the products of the combination of nature and human culture are breathtaking, but the addition of the word "artificial"... makes them unnatural and unsettling.

He was certain that the moss-covered statue in front of him was not man-made. The thickness of the moss was uneven, with some parts being unusually raised and others being incredibly flat, where the white stone surface could be vaguely seen. Under the strange halo, it looked like some kind of indescribable monster. However, since there was no trace of human intervention, he found it quite cute and even had the urge to press two handprints on the statue's chest.

Subconsciously, Li Yili raised her hands and scratched them, inexplicably feeling like she was opening a blind box. If it were a man statue, she would definitely have commented, "Dude, those pecs are pretty good."

Ah, it looks just like it was sculpted! If it were a goddess statue...

Anyway, the statue won't scream "pervert!" and slap him.

I heard that the statues used to be very explicit and might not even pass censorship.

Damn it, I got excited!

"That statue—"

Just as Li Yili was about to unleash a Dragon Claw attack on the moss-covered statue in front of her, Dela Pal's voice came from behind her. Li Yili turned around abruptly like a high school student caught secretly smoking, hiding her hands behind her back and giving a polite smile.

“It seems to have been here for a long time,” Dela Pal glanced at the statue behind Li Yili, which was covered in moss and whose original appearance was no longer visible, then turned around, waved, and plopped down on the single sofa.

The old butler, like a ghost, reappeared, pulling a cart loaded with expensive wines of varying sizes to one side, then silently retreating to a corner of the spacious living room, where he remained motionless.

"Didn't the branch leader ever think of cleaning this statue?" Li Yili complained as she sat down on the single sofa opposite Dela Pal.

Although the unintentionally created "spectacle" doesn't look as eerie, its size and shape are still quite frightening, especially when combined with a dark and stormy night scene. A random flash of lightning would definitely set off a horror movie.

“This statue has nothing to do with me, and I have no interest in cleaning things that have nothing to do with me,” Dela Pal reached out and picked up a bottle of wine with writing that Li Yili couldn’t understand. With a flick of her thumb, the cork flew into the fireplace not far away.

A few soft crackling sounds came from the fireplace, which was installed this year and seemed quite out of place in the old living room. The firelight and warmth spread from the fireplace into the spacious living room.

Li Yili raised an eyebrow. He originally had no interest in the statue or even the entire monastery. If Dela Pal had replied, "I'm just staying here temporarily," he could have understood. However, as a chosen one of the gods, Dela Pal was extremely averse to this city called Guoweidun. That's why he only brought an elderly steward with him as if he were staying for a few days, and he didn't seem to care about cleaning the residence that had been converted from the monastery. That's why he left the statue, which was covered in moss, unattended, and the corridors and exterior walls were also covered with moss and strange black grime.

He never thought about cleaning when he stayed in guesthouses while traveling before, let alone cleaning the surrounding area. Of course, Dela Pal's situation is different from his travels and guesthouse stays. He went on vacation to relax and knew he would definitely be able to go back. Dela Pal was sent here and may never be able to go back.

The more unlikely it was that she would leave, the less likely Dela Pal was to accept Guo Weiton. She told herself every moment that she would leave tomorrow and rejected any behavior that suggested she would stay permanently, including cleaning the place.

But Dela Pal emphasizes that it has nothing to do with the statue, as if Dela Pal knows the monastery and the statue, but instinctively doesn't want others to associate it with her.

Li Yili then realized that she did not know as much about Dela Pal as she had thought. If she had visited earlier, she might have been able to find out more.

As an undercover agent, not understanding your superiors is a major taboo.