People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

"Quarantine or body search?" Defiance asked. "I can vouch that we are not armed."

“No, no, no, Miss, you’re overthinking it,” Mostima shook her head and said, “The ceremony is very simple.”

She coughed lightly, composed herself, opened her arms, and, mimicking the tone of Ivangelista XI, cheered:

Welcome to Laterano!

Chapter 218 Mostima: Almost had his family members cut through by a single blow

Laterano is a good city, but it's also a bit bad.

The Pope is a good man, just a little wicked.

In the vast majority of written or visual works that Ernst has seen, the terms Pope, Papacy, and religion are invariably associated with villains.

The Pope likes little boys, though it's unknown whether he likes that Japanese boy. The Vatican is feudal and reactionary, indiscriminately opposing any progressive or open-minded thought. The entire religious sect is evil; even if there are one or two pure souls within it, they are either tortured and suppressed or betray the religion to establish their own sect.

Especially in the anime produced by Japanese artists who are living comfortably, the Pope is basically portrayed as someone who does nothing right, and opposing the Pope has even become a kind of political correctness for them.

This is truly perplexing, considering that, in reality, Japan's level of religious superstition is no less than, and perhaps even greater than, that of medieval Western countries. Characters associated with Onmyodo (yin-yang arts) and Onmyoji (yin-yang masters) are generally portrayed as benevolent figures in their works, such as the 2.5-jo Satoru who says, "Sorry, I didn't give you enough fun."

If one had to evaluate this bizarre and contradictory situation, Ernst could only say that he "opposed others, but not himself."

This is also a small manifestation of the fragile national pride of ordinary people, and also a kind of self-confidence.

However, while artistic works are ultimately just works of art, in reality, religion is no less complex than modern science. It did indeed play a positive and active role in its early stages; it's no exaggeration to say that major theological seminaries and monastic colleges were among the earliest birthplaces of modern science.

Therefore, Ernst had mixed feelings when he received the invitation to travel to Lateran to meet with the Pope.

On one hand, Arknights, as a game world, naturally makes him somewhat resistant to characters holding the "Pope" identity card. After all, due to the cultural infiltration in Japan and the local xenophobic sentiment, the Pope, a character only possessed by Western Catholicism, doesn't have a very good reputation in our country.

On the other hand, Ernst is currently in Terra, a real world. And the reputation of the Sarkaz race and the Laterano nation on this land...

That just goes to show that some people are born into poverty and have to work like mules and horses, while others are born into wealth and drive BMWs every day.

Its reputation is truly excellent, and the welfare benefits of Laterano residents are top-notch. So good that as long as you stay in Laterano, all your expenses from birth to death are covered, and your last wishes can even be fulfilled.

That's why they say even a dog has to be born in Laterano.

Regardless of his position, if he makes his subordinates live well, he shouldn't be considered a bad leader.

As for whether he is a good person, that's a bit of a luxury to think about; Ernst said he'd have to see.

"Mr. Ernst, please wait here for a moment. You may help yourself to the desserts on the table. If you do not like them, you can tell the gunner at the door and he will help you choose something else."

Leading Ernst through the marble corridors of the Papal Palace and into this lounge that looked no different from an ordinary family's living room, Fiameta spoke earnestly and methodically.

Perhaps finding Fiameta's stiff expression a bit too rigid, Mostima leaned closer to Ernst and whispered:

"I'll let you in on a little secret: there's a surprise in the fruit tarts on the table!"

Leaving Ernst with a meaningful wink, Mostima pushed Fiameta out of the lounge. As they walked, Fiameta kept saying:

"Well, Mr. Ernst, His Holiness the Pope is currently handling some matters and will be here shortly..."

"Alright, alright, that's enough. There's nothing more for us to do here, let's go!"

Forced out of the room, Fiameta finally broke free from Mostima's grasp, looking at her unfathomable friend with some annoyance, and questioned:

"What are you doing? I'm doing something important!"

Mostima frowned, looking determined not to back down, and retorted:

"Does anyone make that face when they're doing serious business, Miss Fiameta?"

She took her phone out of her handbag, turned on the camera, pointed it at Fiametta's face, and then placed the photo in front of Fiametta.

"You don't think that just because the host has a sour face and says a few more words, you've finished your mission, do you? If the old man's distinguished guest were that easy to fool, the Duke of Victoria and the President of Colombia wouldn't value him so much!"

Fiameta stared blankly at the photo on Mostima's phone.

She wanted to argue with Mostima, but the truth was, as she said, Fiameta was indeed not in good condition.

It wasn't a physical discomfort, but rather what's known as "restlessness."

This unease was already reflected on her face; her brows were always furrowed, intentionally or unintentionally, and even when she wasn't, the corners of her mouth were always pursed. If a charlatan from the Great Yan Dynasty who practiced the so-called "art of physiognomy" were to look at her, this face alone would be worth at least a hundred taels of silver for a bloody disaster.

Mostima was trying his best to ease the tension, not wanting Ernst to have any unnecessary speculations or doubts about Lateran because of Fiameta's expression, which could affect the subsequent negotiations between the Pope and him. But Mostima was not optimistic about the actual results...

As she pushed Fiameta out of the room, she noticed the thoughtful look on Ernst's face.

I finally got a mission and met a guy who seemed alright. I hope I don't mess it up.

Mostima sighed inwardly. If the mission went wrong, she, as a messenger from all nations with a special status, wouldn't actually be punished in any specific way. But getting involved in matters related to Ernst again would be a different story.

She really valued this opportunity. Of course, it wasn't some girlish infatuation—a term long removed from her as a "time-stopping person"—her interest in Ernst was quite simple.

—She “smelled” something unusual about Ernst.

This unusual scent comes from her Mostima-like special quality—the allure of locks and keys.

Although the behemoth in the staff has not commented on this, Mostima's intuition tells her that Ernst, like her, is also a spokesperson for the behemoth, and carries a part of the behemoth with him!

This is the real reason she became interested in Ernst at Columbia University, and the true explanation for her claim that "Ernst's attitude towards the world was different from hers."

After experiencing that dramatic betrayal and becoming a fallen angel, acquiring the lock and key, Mostima adopted a passive attitude towards the world.

She doesn't mind interacting with anyone, and her playful attitude allows her to chat with many people, but without exception, it's all a business-like smile that's warm on the outside but cold on the inside. Even when dealing with her friend's sister, who is still lying unconscious in the hospital, Mostima is used to approaching and interacting with her with the intention of "rejection."

But Ernst was different. Despite being a representative of the behemoths, and a being who had transcended and was not accepted by his own kind, Ernst actively integrated himself into this land. He even enjoyed playing cryptic games and engaging in political maneuvering with the leaders, showing no awareness of becoming a "slave to fate (the behemoths)".

Mostima was genuinely curious about Ernst's mindset. She tried to approach Ernst, probe his mental state, and see if she could break through that "pretense."

But... she didn't even have time to do that.

Mostima still remembered when she first met Ernst. This terrifying man shattered her carefully constructed facade with just one sentence, hitting her sore spot and almost leaving her speechless on the spot.

He asked, "Miss Mostima, could you smile?"

She hadn't stopped smiling from beginning to end, so this request was really absurd.

For some inexplicable reason, Mostima felt a chill run down his spine and could only resort to an "aggressive rebuttal" that even Fiameta disliked, forcibly steer the topic in a clichéd direction in order to hastily repair his psychological defenses.

Fortunately, Fiameta cooperated, and fortunately Ernst did not go so far as to kill them all.

The feeling of being so tense that you could break down at any moment was truly suffocating, despairing, and unforgettable.

Mostima's stagnant state of mind was stirred up for the first time in a long time, and this wave was like a raging storm.

She wanted to experience that feeling again, the feeling of walking on the edge of a tightrope, and not only that, she wanted to make Ernst experience it too.

My noodles are so easy to peel? How about yours?

I have plenty of time; what you have in a month might only feel like a few hours to me. The advantage is mine!

For this unspoken, invisible contest between her and Ernst—the unspoken representatives of the behemoths—she certainly didn't want anything to go wrong with this mission that opened the channel of communication between her and Ernst.

Mostima's eyes became unusually serious:

"So, what exactly happened, Fiameta?"

"What exactly did your lovely junior say to you that caused such a strong reaction?"

Fiamet bit her lip, looking conflicted:

"If I tell you that you have to agree to help me, instead of holding me back!"

Mostima smiled and nodded, saying:

"What are you saying? I'm still hoping to win a lap pillow as a reward for helping Miss Fiameta. How could I bear to give that up?"

The innocent Li Boli blushed instantly. Looking at Mostima's ambiguous smile, she realized that she was deliberately teasing her. She was immediately embarrassed and angry and reached out to pull out the cannon.

However, at that very moment, a greeting that rang out from not far away interrupted her anger.

Ivangelista XI has arrived.

Never daring to joke around in front of the Pope, Fiameta, who always considered herself a "proper person," could only glare angrily at Mostima and quickly explain:

"Patia is spreading some disturbing ideas to me."

“She said that Lateran’s prosperity belonged solely to the Sakorta, and had nothing to do with the Liberi. The Sakorta never considered us as one of their own.”

“I questioned her about who taught her to say that. She consistently refused to give a direct answer.”

"I only learned one code name from her—Pioneer."

Chapter 219 Vina: Shall I taste it for you?

Lateran, Papal Room, Lounge.

Looking at the still steaming fruit tarts on the table, Ernst swallowed hard.

Lateran's desserts are famous throughout Terra, even though Lateran desserts almost never open chain stores or do takeout sales.

At the Duke of Caesar's banquet, Ernst even heard the Duke explain some useless trivia. For example, what level of sophistication his banquet should have if he were to host a Victorian Grand Duke. This included a description of the food.

—Gallic red wine, pack animals from the East, Sargonian fruit, a band from Letania, and dessert from Lateran.

The fact that it can be compared to the treasures of each of these countries speaks volumes about the quality of Lateran desserts.

But Mostima's parting words, "There's a surprise in the fruit tart!" left him a little puzzled.

What kind of surprise could Mostima call a surprise?

Ernst couldn't figure it out, but judging from Fiameta's expression—as if he wanted to say something to remind him, but Mostima hurriedly pushed him out the door—this surprise was probably quite big.

Is this some kind of culinary disaster? Has the world of bizarre cuisine invaded our territory?

Thinking this way, although Ernst, as a staunch sweets lover, really wanted to try Lateran's "Papal Palace Special" to see what it tasted like, he managed to suppress his curiosity.

Since he doesn't taste it, someone else will taste it for him.

Vina and Defiance are both true gluttons. Although they both grew up in luxury, they rarely had the chance to eat Lateran desserts, and the special supply from the Papal Palace was a once-in-a-lifetime event.

There's no way around it. It's not that it was that with their previous family background, it was that one of them had fallen on hard times, was destitute, and was homeless. They almost had to cosplay as Xiao Xiang next door to become Xiao Wei in the customer service department, while the other was from a strict family with a military background and iron-blooded soldiers. Their parents didn't like that kind of thing.

After Fiameta and Mostima left, the two hesitated for a moment in front of Ernst, intending to let him eat first. But seeing Ernst's absent-minded and unwavering demeanor, the two finally couldn't resist and went over after several minutes of arguing.

"Ernst, aren't you going to eat?" Vina picked up a fruit tart of unknown flavor and put it in her mouth, her face immediately showing a satisfied and happy expression.

Lateran's dessert craftsmanship truly lives up to its reputation. One bite, and it's sweet but not cloying, the fruity flavors exploding in your mouth, making you want to keep eating.

The taste was a bit strange. Vina had eaten quite a lot of fruit, but she couldn't figure out what kind of fruit it was for a long time.

However, she didn't pay too much attention. There were so many fruits in Terra, and Sargon's Oasis Orchard was the best high-end fruit supplier in Terra. Every year, they would come up with many new flavors and varieties, so it was normal that she couldn't tell them apart.

Rather, it's more like opening a blind box; you never know what flavor the next fruit tart you'll eat will be!

But Daphne wasn't so lucky. Seeing Vina take a bite, she eagerly picked up a fruit tart, took a bite with anticipation, and then her expression froze.

Just as Ernst thought he was about to witness some legendary, magical anime scene where the fruit tart was so delicious it would "explode," Daphne suddenly snapped back to reality. As if she had touched something dirty, she threw the fruit tart in her hand onto the table, took out a tissue, covered her mouth, spat several times, and even spat out the bite she had taken.

After doing all this, tears welled up in her eyes, and she cried out in anguish:

"It tastes like bitter melon!"

Ernst was filled with respect, while Vina glanced warily at the tenth fruit tart in her hand, which she hadn't yet taken a bite of.

They ate so fast!

Ernst was filled with awe.

Noticing Ernst's surprised gaze, Vina looked away somewhat embarrassedly, her face slightly flushed, and handed the fruit tart to Ernst.

"Want to eat?"

"No, no," Ernst quickly waved his hand and said, "I don't like bitter melon either."

Vina glanced at Defiance, who had come closer looking as if she'd found her people and was seeking comfort, and then said:

"It's okay, I can help you taste it."

"Want to try the taste?"

Ernst was taken aback. Before he could figure out why Vina wanted to try it, he saw Vina take a small bite of the fruit tart in her hand and then say:

"This one tastes like honeydew melon. Would you like to try it?"

Ernst glanced at the fruit tart still bearing a tooth mark, then at Vina, whose face was flushed but who was stubbornly maintaining a serious expression: "I..."

“It tastes really good!” Vina continued. “Trust me.”