045: Little Arlyn

"Praise the Goddess, your kindness will be rewarded. There are quite a few people who hope to get this opportunity." Father Fidel was stunned for a moment, then smiled.

A job could even be called a luxury for many people.

"If possible, please try to select believers of the Goddess. Of course, the Goddess is benevolent, and She is equally tolerant even towards believers of other deities." As long as they're not believers of the Death God, God of Combat, or True Creator and their ilk.

If they really were such people, the Goddess might have to make them fall into an eternal sleep.

Don silently added this thought in his heart.

Regarding Don's words, Father Fidel couldn't help but nod, saying with genuine sincerity, "May the Goddess bless you."

"May the Goddess bless you."

Until he left the church, that Nightmare never stood up to greet Don, seemingly unaware of his arrival, remaining immersed in sleep within his own dreamscape.

Father Fidel tidied up a bit, but didn't go to disturb this clergyman who had been transferred from another church.

He needed to go find believers of the Goddess who met Don's requirements... As a devout believer of the Evernight Goddess, Father Fidel admitted to having some small personal preferences, but this was something the Goddess permitted—it was the essence of human nature. Of course, this wouldn't affect his search for people of other faiths who could competently handle this job; he simply had some subjective inclinations.

After leaving the church, Don had the coachman wait there while he strolled around this not-too-prosperous area.

The last time he came here, he happened to encounter the demon that he had now turned into a marionette, which didn't give him much time to carefully observe this place.

"Although it has some characteristics, and there are cultivated farmlands nearby, and bandits and the like have long been cleared out, being close to Tingen, it's still been affected after all."

Everyone has a herd mentality. The idea that Tingen's development is better than here, that big places have more opportunities, and so on, is deeply rooted in people's minds nowadays... Apart from the citizens who have lived here for generations, few major merchants would come here to drive economic development.

How to promote distinctive development?

"Sugar is indeed a good gimmick, but large-scale production isn't possible for the time being... Use the Theater With Curtains That Never Draw? Using an Angel-level Sealed Artifact for sugar production seems a bit too degrading, and the accumulated miracles aren't that many either."

He could recently feel the 'Ring of the Curator' on his left pinky finger getting somewhat warm—the theater was reminding its director to take action.

Otherwise, it couldn't help but want to make people cosplay as sunny dolls.

"No rush, no rush." Don was quite zen about it. "This matter can't be rushed."

If he really wanted to establish a secret organization, just him, Owen, Olsen, or the Beyonders from the Abraham family wouldn't be enough. Moreover, if calculated this way, was he creating a secret organization, or was Abraham developing peripheral members?

The Abraham people could be components, but if the organization was mostly comprised of them, that wouldn't be much fun.

Besides, regarding the system's side quest, the secret organization, and his own ritual, Don already had plans.

This matter couldn't be rushed anyway.

"Next, I still need to first get these troublesome Beyonders to shift their attention away."

Perhaps most of the Church's forces had already gone to track down that mid-sequence Beyonder vessel suspected of divine descent from the Dark Side of the Universe, but for Tingen, they were still conducting more detailed investigations.

After all, there had once been a high-sequence Beyonder here who could take away a "0" level Sealed Artifact. Although it wasn't clear whether that person had already left, this was still one of the unstable factors for Tingen, where the Church's power wasn't too strong.

The targets that the Church's high-sequence Beyonders needed to investigate might not be them, but their presence here was still somewhat troublesome.

As for how to make these troublesome high-sequence Beyonders shift their watchful gaze away...

Don's gaze fell on a place not far away.

That place was somehow surrounded by crowds, and faint sounds of loud cursing could be heard.

Don frowned. He leaned on a plain and unremarkable walking stick, quietly not moving forward, but subtly hooked the spirit threads around him.

A marionette of an ordinary person who had been hiding in the corner (a villain casually brought into storage when cleaning the theater) came out at the right time, pushing aside the bystanders. Through the marionette's vision, Don saw a corpulent middle-aged man viciously kicking a child lying on the ground.

"Enough, John! Little Arlyn just wanted to buy food! You drink all day, ignoring her sick mother, and now you won't even let the girl care for her?"

Someone who really couldn't stand it anymore couldn't help but speak up.

"Shut yer damn mouth!" Old John, reeking of alcohol, didn't indulge these people at all. He was drunk, still holding a bottle in his hand, and upon hearing these words, couldn't help but kick again at the girl on the ground who was curled up clutching her stomach, her face full of pain and cold sweat.

"Th-this little thief stole from me!" he heccuped "Dared to take my money to buy shit for that… that useless woman lyin' in bed, waitin' fer me to—Get up!"

"All ya do is eye my coin, ya worthless brat!"

He grabbed the girl from the ground by the hair. Some people around reached out wanting to stop him, but were met with Old John's drunken sneer: "Wanna pay her debt, eh? And you, since ye all so kind and generous, should I put tonight's drinking money on yer tab?"

The people who had reached out to help withdrew awkwardly and stopped speaking.

"Or you—you—" He jabbed a finger at the crowd, laughing. "Wanna take her in? Need a freeloadin' servant? Pay up! Take her and that sickly wretch off my hands! C'mon!"

He shouted louder and louder. Among the surrounding crowd, some were numb, some couldn't bear to watch, but ultimately no one extended a helping hand anymore, only leaving in silence.

The girl being held by her hair couldn't help but let out a scream. She looked around in terror, but everyone her gaze fell upon only remained silent. Finally, the hope in the girl's eyes dimmed, and though her face still showed pain, it took on the numb coloring that could only be formed through years of suffering.

She wanted to tell her alcoholic father that mother could no longer hold on, that the food at home was about to be completely depleted, that her seriously ill mother couldn't get treatment, and that this night, or perhaps the next night, mother would finally go to the Goddess's divine kingdom...

But, but...

Her eyes filled with tears, but these tears couldn't bring even a trace of sympathy from her father.

If she weren't so thin and small, her alcohol-addicted father would have long since sold her to a brothel in exchange for money for a night's drinking.

I don't want this…

Someone… save me?

She cried out silently.

But who could come to save her... Better to die, better to just die... Mama, I'm so tired, I'm really so tired...

But a loud slap instantly awakened the girl's deathly eyes.

The alcohol-reeking Old John fell straight to the ground, directly slapped unconscious.

The knight captain who had swung his arm in a full circle to give the drunk man a big slap had a very gloomy expression. He maintained an awkward yet polite and respectful smile as he looked at the young man who was slowly walking over from the side.

This was a important figure whom even the knight captain had to treat with respect.

"Mr. Lamud"

(End of Chapter)