When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1105 Fish Porridge from Mount Grail
René, holding the oil paper package, leaped off his horse in the cold night.

He almost never rode in a carriage unless he was injured or sick; he always rode on horseback.

From a distance, he saw Raphael pulling at Duvalon.

Raphael gripped the other's arm, while Duvalon stiffened his neck, their shoulders locked in a struggle.

It seemed that Duvalon wanted to go up to enjoy the warmth, but Raphael grabbed him and wouldn't let him leave.

René stopped in front of the two men: "Did His Majesty send you?"

Raphael loosened his grip, and Duvalon staggered to his feet, his nose red from the cold.

Raphael stepped forward: "You received the notification too? Is it about the construction site?"

René remained silent, staring at him coldly.

Duvalon straightened his collar: "What's the point of asking here? Just go up there."

The oak doors of the Holy See building slowly closed behind us, shutting out the wind and snow outside.

When the guards in the hall saw René, they were about to raise their hands in salute, but he stopped them with a look.

The heating pipes hummed, casting a warm glow on the icons on the wall.

Duvallon walked in front, and René walked behind, carrying the oil paper package, upstairs, and quickly walked into the depths of the corridor.

The door to the Pope's office was ajar, and voices could be heard coming from inside.

Upon seeing the three arrive, Edwin, as a Privy Councillor, immediately stood up to greet them: "The three of you may enter directly; His Majesty has given the order."

The three men were familiar with Edwin, so they nodded in greeting and then knocked on the door.

"come in."

The three of them entered the office in reverse order, following the previous sequence.

But before Duvalon went in, he suddenly turned around and glanced at Edwin, scratching his forehead in confusion, before being pulled in by Raphael.

In front of Horn's large desk in his office, he specially set up a small coffee table and two sofas, specifically for drinking tea and entertaining guests, and also for Horn to rest when he works overtime.

When the three entered, Horn was setting up the table.

A small red clay stove held a ceramic pot, bubbling away a grayish-white fish soup that emitted a fishy smell.

After setting down the dishes, Horn looked up and saw the three of them, and he was momentarily dazed.

They were just three little kids back then, and now they've all grown into mature young adults.

René stood at the door, now 1.75 meters tall, with short black hair, a smooth chin, no stubble, and a cold expression.

Duvalon, all smiles, casually hung his scarf and coat on the hook and carefully tidied them up.

Raphael bowed politely to Horn, whose overcoat had already been placed downstairs.

Of course, they are called young people. These three have been through many ups and downs in their lives. They returned at the age of graduating from university and were already the second batch of senior monks of the Holy Alliance.

Sitting down at one end of the sofa, Horn stirred the earthenware pot with a soup spoon: "You said you haven't had dinner yet, right? Come on, have some fish porridge with me, it's been so long."

“I have no objection.” Duvalon took his seat first, then picked his nose in confusion. “Why does it smell a bit fishy?”

Horn didn't explain, but simply gestured for the other two to sit down.

The four sat at a small tea table, just like when they were sharing rice and fruit porridge on the Holy Grail Mountain during the flood.

Horn served fish porridge to the three of them in turn before serving himself a bowl.

This fish porridge was poorly prepared; it had a muddy taste, and the fish scales and internal organs weren't even properly removed.

They all drank silently, only stopping when they had ladled the entire pot of fish porridge to the bottom.

The fish porridge was piping hot, and everyone who drank it was covered in sweat. Horn gently put down his bowl: "After eating so much of the chef's braised river fish, can you still get used to this?"

Duvalon immediately chuckled: "At first bite, I wasn't used to it and felt a bit nauseous, but the more I ate, the more familiar it became, and in the end, it even tasted a bit sweet and nostalgic."

Raphael then politely said, "This is the porridge we drank at the Gulag Monastery on the Holy Grail Mountain back then."

It was the best porridge available at the time. I remember someone saying that if you could drink this kind of porridge for the rest of your life, it would be worth it. Who said that again?

René replied, "It's Zelsson."

Horn tapped his head: "I remember, he seems to still be working at the City Hall of the Holy Mechanism, right?"

René didn't speak, but instead unwrapped the oil paper package. Inside, instead of cured meat or roast duck, were thick stacks of documents.

"What is this?" Duvalon craned his neck.

René pushed the oil paper package in front of Horn without saying a word.

"This is news and information about a daytime construction site case. Do you have any leads?"

René shook his head and then nodded: "I don't know how to describe it to you, you'll see for yourself."

Horn picked up the first document, which prominently featured the name Zelson in bold letters.

Zelsson, is he also involved in this matter?

Zelsson was one of the second batch of loyal heirs. He was the one who got slapped on the palm by Horn in the Gulag and called Sirof "Headmaster".

He was about the same age as René and others, just over twenty.

However, unlike the others who went to the battlefield, he chose to continue his studies.

He later went to university and studied architecture and stonemasonry. He contributed to a series of renovations, such as the current St. John's sewers and roads.

But when Horn opened the document's cover, his pupils contracted sharply.

He brought the fluorescent lamp closer and began to read carefully.

But he turned the pages faster and faster, until finally he could hardly contain his anger.

"Since it's so obvious, why hasn't anyone reported it?" Horn slammed the file shut.

“Because he is the heir apparent,” René said meaningfully, “He’s one of our own.”

Horn's anger was like a bucket of ice water poured over him. He remained silent for a long time before speaking again: "Why would he do that?"

“There’s no reason why.” René tidied up the documents and put them back. “After he became the director of the planning department, he gained 70 pounds.”

He loves going to expensive restaurants, eating expensive ingredients, and drinking expensive wines.

He might even spend a month's salary on an expensive bowl of sparrow tongue soup, which wasn't actually very tasty; he just wanted to eat it.

He couldn't afford the expensive dishes, but the money he handled every day could buy hundreds or thousands of sparrow tongue soups and hundreds or thousands of bottles of fine wine.

It's that simple; no one forced, tempted, or exploited him.

At this point, even though Horn had experienced countless trials and tribulations, he felt a sense of powerlessness.

Previously, one could say that there were outsiders/bad people among the crowd, but now even that excuse is no longer uttered.

Because this Zelson is the bad guy; he not only embezzles himself, but he also drags others into it.

The "others" here also refer to Tadashi!
It's as if this is a special perk that Horn gives to Tadashi!
Although Horn had anticipated the corruption, when it actually happened, he still couldn't suppress his helplessness and anger.

Especially when he saw that Zelson had eaten up Horn's entire month's food allowance in one meal.

"Your Majesty, what are you planning to do?" René asked, staring intently at Horn.

(End of this chapter)