A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 307 I really can't stand it, I'm a cop.

"Mr. Quinn, cold water or tap water?"

The sound of water being poured came from ahead. Quinn looked speechlessly at Sissa, who was pretending nothing had happened. Sissa didn't wait for his reply before pouring the water. Anyway, it was just this one kind of water, meaning he wanted Sissa to adapt.

"What's the difference?"

Quinn looked at the glass on the table. The glass exuded a sense of vicissitude and experience. Although it was washed very clean, there was still a ring of unidentified grime around the rim that could not be washed off, which reminded him of the massive cups in Indian street food videos.

It's hard to imagine that this broken glass, with a chipped bottom, is still being used and is actually a cup used by the Holy Tree Cult to entertain guests.

“Cold water sounds like it’s drawn from a well. After all, you know how water pipes are at Eswell. As long as it doesn’t kill anyone, Alexandra Water Company considers it clean,” Sissa said with a smile.

“Sounds like?” Quinn seized on the word.

“It’s actually tap water.” This kid, Sissa, is surprisingly honest. “After the Northern Continent was blocked, it was very difficult for our overseas churches to get funding, so we had to tighten our belts to make ends meet.”

Quinn glanced at the water glass and said it was tap water from the pipes that had a metallic smell, but it looked very clear.

The sound of chestnuts being cracked came from outside the window.

It was an afternoon after the rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly, replacing the dark clouds. The road, which had been full of water, was now completely dry. This was the Guishu Church in Aiswell, and a large square in front of it was church property. At this moment, many elderly people were carrying chestnuts and scattering them on the open ground, one after another, which was quite a sight.

Chestnuts, round and about the size of dates, are a type of tree nut with a bitter taste, yet they are the most common economic crop in the southern continent. In sunny seasons, they can grow to the size of branches bending under the weight of the trees. After being thoroughly sun-dried, the bitterness of the fruit can be removed, and then it can be used to extract oil with an exceptionally high oil yield. A patch of sun-dried chestnuts can sell for 9 pence per pound.

The old farmers harvesting chestnuts in the church square are of all races, including black and white, as well as orcs. They are shirtless, with towels tied around their necks, and use long, soft poles that look like oars to tap the chestnuts. Experienced farmers can easily separate the shells with a gentle tap, revealing the still light brown kernels exposed to the sun. After just two days of sun exposure, they will turn into a charming, oily, dark brown.

Besides the chestnuts drying in the sun in the church square, there were also sheets hanging on clotheslines fluttering in the wind, and even baby diapers and women's clothing. These things filled the square completely, but the church administrators did not come out to stop them, leaving only a narrow, winding path for people to pass through.

Quinn had just walked in along this path. In theology, the church is a solemn and majestic "place of divine light," and every word and deed must be done with piety. The nuns' morning prayers involve cleaning the church until it is spotless. Such an undignified scene would never occur in other religions.

The Church of the Returning Tree was quite impressive. Compared to the square and oppressive Eternal Church and the solemn White Church, the Church of the Returning Tree was Quinn's favorite of all the religious sites he had ever seen. The magnificent building, constructed from large blocks of rock, still showed traces of Gothic architecture on its walls, with numerous reliefs of branches and leaves symbolizing the World Tree. However, it was more avant-garde, removing unnecessary and complicated facade embellishments. The entire building narrowed upwards like a series of progressive steps, eventually transforming into the tall spire at the top. The vines and branches growing in the cracks of the rocks added a touch of ancient vitality to it.

These vines and branches look remarkably similar to the golden forest of trees shrouded in gray mist in the Forbidden Forest, but they are not as robust as the trees in the forest, and their leaves are not golden, but a tender green.

“Mr. Quinn, I didn’t expect you to be so skilled.” Sysa spoke slowly. When he wasn’t using that high-pitched, eunuch-like voice, it was quite pleasant, with a priest’s magnetic quality.

"How could it not be good?" Quinn sneered. "If it wasn't good, I'd die by your hand."

"Oh dear, didn't you see through my Word of Power 'Illusion'? As long as you can see through it, you won't be harmed by Illusion." Sissa covered her mouth and chuckled. "You should have told me to stop sooner. I thought you were some annoying Abyss Transcendent."

"I told you to stop, did you listen?" Quinn's smile grew even more malevolent.

"Mr. Quinn, cold water or tap water?" Sysa picked up the kettle again. This man didn't even pretend to be stupid; he forgot about what had just happened as soon as the kettle was raised.

"You almost exposed my identity."

“By God the Father,” the not-so-devout priest said, using God as a shield: “I deliberately chose that alleyway; no one saw it, not even Ike.”

Not far behind Sissa is the statue of the Father.

The half-naked, well-built god stands on a branch of yellow granite and bronze carvings, striding forward. The lines are extremely strong and expressive, giving one a sense of inspiring power just by looking at it.

Unlike the statues of the Holy Spirit Goddess or the Dragon Lord, the statue of the Heavenly Father, the incarnation of the World Tree, does not omit facial details. Instead, it is sculpted with highly recognizable facial features, possessing a classical yet avant-garde aesthetic. Although the eyes are left blank to maintain a sense of mystery, the statue is still too realistic and lacks some of the unattainable and unfathomable divinity, or rather, a sense of distance, that belongs to gods.

Behind the image of the Heavenly Father hang oil paintings: a golden World Tree in its half-glorious, half-decayed state; the Heavenly Father walking in the fields leading people to labor; and a scene of a brown bear fishing in the northern continent with an unclear meaning. These oil paintings are also in a rough style, not focusing on details, but thickly painted, yet they are very expressive.

"I'm undercover in Golden Wind," Quinn said, arms crossed, using the pretext he'd discussed with Ankuya, "to investigate some things."

Sissa tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear and nodded slowly: "That's quite a coincidence."

“After what just happened, I won’t pursue the matter since it was a misunderstanding.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But since we’ve run into each other, shouldn’t you share some information with me? — For the sake of peace in Aswell.”

"Share what?" Sissa blinked her innocent, naive eyes.

"Mr. Q, an Abyss Transcendent, and why would you connect these things with the Golden Wind?"

“Mr. Quinn, cold water or tap water?” Sysa asked, picking up the kettle again.

"I haven't drunk a drop, don't pour it out!" Quinn has really met a genius. Could this guy be a suspect in the hero's story?

"Okay, fine."

Xisa ran her fingers across the center of her chest, prayed softly, then picked up the book on the table covered with the World Tree cover and began to carefully turn each page.

"Please wait."

Quinn patiently waited for him to flip through the paper for a full five minutes.

Seeing that the priest was engrossed in reading a novel and showed no intention of paying attention to him, Quinn finally couldn't help but ask, "Did you find it? What does Mr. Q have to do with 'The Golden Commandments'?"

“The Golden Commandments? Oh, no, this isn’t a classic text.” Sissa smiled subtly, turning the book, which was covered by a church cover, over. The pages were covered with densely packed photos, all of them featuring large breasts and buttocks, with handwritten addresses and nicknames below.

It looks very familiar. If you add a phone number, it looks even more familiar. You could slip ten of these things under the door of a hotel in a small town on Earth and sleep there for one night.

“I’m looking at where to preach tonight,” Sissa said devoutly, her eyes lowered.

Quinn's temples throbbed wildly, I'm so pissed off—

Seeing that this god-like person was ignoring him with a straight face, his already inexplicably irritated heart became even more irritated because of Amamiya Nene. He suddenly had a strong urge to flip the table. He didn't want to waste any more words and was too lazy to care whether he was a hero or not. He punched the girl in the face to vent his anger. But soon, Quinn adjusted his breathing and thought to calm down and control his emotions.

He glanced at his right palm; the bloodstains from the katana cut on his palm hadn't faded. The original sin of rage had helped him in battle more than expected, but its damage to his mind had also exceeded expectations.

I need to be more careful in the future.

Quinn stopped negotiating and instead started coughing, clutching his chest.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Even when it's not important, Sissa is still kind-hearted.

Quinn, feigning ignorance in exactly the same way as Sissa, said, "...I just got hurt, ouch."

The priest asked with concern, "I have some cool water here, would you like some?"

His anger, which he had managed to suppress, surged up again, and he was too lazy to pretend anymore. "I am a faculty member of Grindelwald. Whatever the reason, since you injured me, according to Grindelwald's school rules, come back to the college with me to find out what happened."

Sissa blinked; his eyelashes were long and thick, making him look incredibly innocent.

He turned and shouted out the window, "Misha! Misha!"

About half a minute later, accompanied by hurried yet light footsteps, an impatient and annoyed voice came from before they even entered the room: "Suka!! What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, ugh."

The person who entered was a woman—or rather, a young girl, or even a teenager. She had striking red hair and looked like an angry teddy bear. There was a little sweat on her fair forehead. Quinn recognized her; she had just been outside harvesting chestnuts with the old farmers. He had thought she was someone's granddaughter.

This little girl is dressed strangely, specifically in a very business-like style. This is the first time Quinn has seen a business jacket suit since he came to this world. On the short Mikhailov, it offsets the childishness. The color is the same as the divine robe of Xisa, which is matte black, and she also has a half-glorious and half-decayed World Tree pendant hanging on her chest.

She sized up Quinn for a moment, finding the bespectacled man to be quite kind and not like someone looking for trouble. Suddenly, her voice changed from a fierce, tigress-like tone to a sweet, childlike voice, asking in a coquettish tone, "I didn't expect our Bishop to be getting down to business. Are you here to join the church?"

Before Quinn could even answer, the young girl with an administrative style handed him a box. It was the donation box that had originally been placed in front of the statue of God the Father. The girl exuded a strong sense of business acumen: "I'm so cute, please give me money~"

"?"

Quinn thought to himself, "What serious illness do you people of the Tree of God have?"

"The initiation fee is a mere five silver coins and eight pence. After paying, fill out the initiation application form and wait for approval."

"I'm not here to join the cult." Quinn, his face dark, pulled out the academy's badge and showed it to her. "I'm a faculty member of the academy, and I was just injured by your Bishop Sissa. Now, please bring him back to the academy with me to assist with the investigation—"

Misha's smile vanished instantly, and she turned to Sissa without any politeness, yelling, "Sukabrie!!! The church's biggest expense this year is hiring a lawyer to clean up your mess!! Do you know how tight the church's finances are?!"

So excited, saliva splattered onto Sissa's face.

He casually picked up the handkerchief and touched it, then brought it to his nose and kissed it deeply, drawing a line on his chest as he praised, "Misha-chan's saliva tastes like summer today, bliss."

May your mother be blessed!

Misha kicked Sissa to the ground, which startled Quinn. "Holy crap, a super strong woman!"
"Ahem." Misha straightened her collar, and seeing that Quinn's school badge didn't seem fake, she introduced herself formally: "I am Misha Mihailovna, the scribe of the Aiswell Church of the Returning Tree God. Your Excellency, the arcanist of the academy, may I ask what has happened?"

Quinn glanced at Sissa, who was lying on the ground continuing to flip through a prostitute's photo album, and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Can you talk?"

“She’s the secretary, one rank above me in the church.” Sissa seemed completely used to what was happening, meaning he let her handle it.

Quinn then succinctly summarized the previous misunderstanding, and then stated bluntly, "I am also investigating the Abyss Transcendent known as 'Mr. Q,' who is connected to a recent attack that deliberately targeted the students of the academy."

Misha nodded slightly. Her attitude was initially quite polite, but after hearing what Quinn said, she remained unmoved. After a moment's thought, she said, "The academy is the administrator of Aishwell City. According to the rules, the Church of Returning Trees can cooperate with you in the search for Abyss Transcendents."

But then she added, "As far as I know, no Abyss supernatural events have occurred within the territory of the Guishu Church or in the neighborhoods where Guishu believers live. The Church welcomes any relevant leads from the Academy, but currently we have no leads that need to be reported to the Academy. Regarding the matter of him injuring you..."

Misha reached into the donation box and pulled out five pennies.

After thinking for a moment, he tossed back two more, then handed three pennies to Quinn with a pained expression: "Here, this is the highest compensation the Church of the Returning Tree can offer. If you accept it, we'll sign a settlement agreement."

So? Is this how you send away beggars?

Quinn's face darkened: "I don't think it's necessary for the administration to handle this. That's what I thought."

"School Affairs Office? Please wait a moment."

Misha left with a normal expression, then returned with light steps, carrying a stack of documents, the first of which was a notice from the school administration stamped with Grindelwald's seal.

"Look, this one was issued by the school administration two years ago, giving Xisa a week to cooperate with the investigation of a missing client's case. This one was issued five months ago, the reason being, oh, proselytizing to female students in Broom Alley. You see, here's also a lawyer's letter from the Adventurers' Guild, these five are disciplinary recommendations from the Holy See, and these twenty-four are court notices from the White Cult."

Misha handed the last piece of paper to Quinn with a beaming smile, her expression one of utter indifference.

This yellowed parchment is quite old, and it contains only a few lines of beautiful handwritten text.

However, when Quinn saw the content and the signature, his eyes narrowed sharply:
"In accordance with the rights of heroes in the Compact of the Salvation, I hereby request all relevant authorities to grant the necessary preferential treatment to Father Sissa of the Church of the Returning Tree. —Harry Dumbledore."

The name stamp was made of hot gold wax, which was Grindelwald's school emblem.

At Grindelwald, only one person is qualified to use the gold school badge.

This is the principal's signature.

(End of this chapter)