Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 564 The Church's Faith, Intensely Complicated

Place the marbled steak into the pan, then add a small jar of butter and sear until golden brown on both sides.

The aroma of fat filled the kitchen, so wonderful that every wisp of fragrance was just right.

Rosemary is dipped in butter and drizzled over the pan, while garlic is fried until golden brown. The pungent aroma is mixed with the pure, meaty fragrance, making those who smell it unconsciously shed tears of sorrow.

Cook the steak to medium-rare over low heat, then add salt and black pepper and simmer briefly.

As the sauce thickens and shrinks into the meat, the surface of the steak becomes like a mirror, reflecting a dazzling golden sheen.

It's... the Golden Legend!!!

"You can cook!?" Klein exclaimed in surprise.

Ron glanced at Klein dismissively and said, "What's the big deal? I'm omniscient and omnipotent, what can't I do?"

"I can make dishes that glow, can you guys do that?"

"They always say I'm picky and don't care about cooking at all. Even Medici doesn't understand the essence of it."

So you only eat dishes that glow.

I really mistreated you before!

Ignoring Klein's surprise, Ron took off his apron, fed the prepared steak to Klein, and then returned to the soft sofa to drink Leronze from the bottle.

If you're not coming back, then you're not coming back. You can be with anyone else.

Klein was stunned for a moment before realizing that he was there to report on his work.

Does this guy think I'm a beggar? How dare he be so insulting?!

As he cut off a small piece of steak and put it in his mouth, the mysterious tycoon from Dixie was moved to tears.

Really fragrant!

Only after finishing every last bite of his steak did Klein approach Ron, who had been lounging around, and say seriously:

"Ahem, Ron, I did as you said, subtly revealing that I have a wild side in the Southern Continent."

"Furthermore, they claim that someone will take over the weapons once they arrive, and now many people are getting impatient and coming to test me."

The blond boy raised his handsome eyebrows and then teased:

"You're making good progress, Mr. Ke!"

What, Mr. Kōtai? All-knowing and all-powerful, able to understand even these things?

Klein pursed his lips and continued:

"That's obvious. After all, the Ruhnn royal family isn't made of gold; it's impossible for everyone to like them."

"I've written down the names of all those people who are acting openly or covertly, with inscrutable attitudes. Take a look."

Ron took the note and saw six names he had never heard of before.

"A lieutenant, a captain, a down-on-his-luck nobleman, and a police superintendent from the West Velas Field..."

"They're all small fry. It looks like they're just pushing them to the forefront to test your skills. They're all cunning foxes."

Ron glanced at it and then lost interest.

These opportunists are all fickle; they'll change their stance at the slightest sign of trouble and have absolutely no integrity.

Upon hearing this, Klein nodded slightly and said:

"I think so too, but there's one person who's quite strange."

As he spoke, he handed over another note.

"He is Chunus Korg, Major General and Deputy Chief of MI9!"

At this point, Klein paused, composed himself, and unconsciously smiled as he said to Ron:

"When I was investigating the Mad Skull Pirates on the high seas, I saw this guy on Source Castle. He was involved in the royal slave trade and was absolutely loyal to the royal family."

"He thought I didn't know him, and he even pretended to hate the royal family in front of me."

Playing tricks and schemes in front of Mr. Fool is obviously not that easy.

"Through some special channels—no, I discovered through divination—that this guy is a demigod!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Klein looked at Ron, as if to say:

I've caught a big fish for you, shouldn't you give me something in return?

To be honest, Klein is currently short of money and resources.

Advancing to demigod status, gathering materials, and preparing the ritual were more difficult than he had imagined.

In particular, the ritual for a diviner to ascend to demigod status was a grand drama orchestrated in front of a large audience, with the intention of eliminating a demigod.

Although it sounds easy, Klein, who was often tormented by Ron, knew very well the value of a demigod.

"Even if I can hunt for the materials myself, I can't exactly take Deathstroke with me when I'm about to kill a demigod, can I?"

"Planning, accomplices, and traps are all indispensable."

This requires a huge amount of money and reliable channels to purchase the necessary items.

Although he was burdened with debt, Ron hadn't shown any intention of collecting it for so long, and over time Ron got used to it.

"You can try to plot against him; you can ask Rosell about the Black Emperor's methods."

Ron made a random, offhand remark, and then slowly said:

"It seems that the Ruen royal family did try to resist, but instead they were secretly plotting something that even I didn't notice."

Guessing it is one thing, seeing it is another.

Although Ron did not press his advantage too aggressively, it was clear that the Ron royal family had begun to use both threats and inducements to win over those influential people in Backlund.

He tapped the coffee table in front of him thoughtfully with his finger, and his soft, warm lips moved up and down as he uttered cold words that sent a chill down Klein's spine.

"It's still not chaotic enough. It seems we need to find an opportunity to get rid of George III, and those princes can't be spared either."

At this point, the boy glanced at Klein, who was staring at him expressionlessly.

"Hmph, the guilty shall be executed, and the innocent shall all be turned into women!"

Klein felt a chill run down his spine. He had no doubt that Ron, who knew everything and possessed invincible power, had such strength.

"Executor, let that witch come. But she needs to be promoted to demigod. Only then can she welcome the descent of the gods and reveal the location of the primordial witch."

With George III dead, the leaderless state presented a perfect opportunity for internal division.

As he was thinking, Ron suddenly felt that something was wrong. His golden eyes flickered slightly, and then he looked sharply at Klein.

Isn't this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to carry out scheming and plotting?

There are only three main characters in this play: Triss Chick, King George III, and the Primal Witch...

If only Klein gets involved, plays a major role, and kills Triss or George III at the end of the play.

This undoubtedly aligns perfectly with the advancement ceremony for "Tricksters".

Although it is very dangerous, there is a difference between a Puppet Master and a Puppet Master.

With the Source Castle and Level 0 Sealed Artifacts in his possession, this was not a difficult task for Klein.

"What kind of incredible luck did this bastard have? Or is there something unusual about his and Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun's destinies?"

"I am the same as the dead ghost, and in a way, I am also him... tsk..."

"What are you muttering about?"

After Ron fell silent after mentioning castrating the princes, Klein nudged the boy's shoulder.

Ron raised his chin and coughed lightly, saying:

"It's nothing, come here, I have something to tell you."

"You do this and that... and that and that..."

………………

Inside a cheap rental room in the East District.

"You will all die! You will all die!!!"

Hysterical shouts echoed through the house.

The already dilapidated house was now in even more disarray, with the wooden floorboards smashed and broken, and the simple sofas and chairs riddled with holes from the ice.

"Ah!!! No, no..."

Triss Chick knelt on the ground, letting out howls like a wild beast.

Her body, concealed by the black cloak, writhed beneath.

The exposed face, forearms, and calves gradually turned bluish-black, and then pale.

She gasped for breath, collapsing to the ground as if all her strength had been drained. The ferocious expression on her face and her constantly writhing, thickening hair made her look like a monster who had lost all reason.

Inside the pitch-black house, the creaking of bones echoed, and a low, undisguised wail of pain resounded.

After a long while, the wailing gradually subsided, and Triss, who had been covered by the hood, got up from the ground again.

If you could have another chance to live with your memories intact, would Edsack Augustus still love you the same way?

This question was like a sharp blade, so sharp that just thinking about it made Triss Chick's face contort with rage and her heart wracked with pain to the point of near loss of control.

"I'll remember you. Whether he likes me or not doesn't matter. What I need to do now is avenge him!"

What does it matter whether she likes him or not? Anyway, she used to be a man.

The thought of falling in love with another man, and in a womanly way at that, made Triss feel like vomiting.

However, Edsak Augustus seemed unable to shake it off; it was a rather strange feeling, a mixture of pain and love, disgust and fondness.

If a psychologist were to diagnose Triss, "schizophrenia" would probably be the most accurate diagnosis.

The abstract concept of "witch" not only leads to physical distortion but also psychological distortion, which often results in a certain outcome.

That is to get stuck on a rut and eventually become an evil person with some mental problems.

After all, someone as carefree as Arya is one of a kind. What's the joy in murder and arson compared to thievery, cheating, and being a parasite?

At that moment, the mirror in Triss Chick's arms suddenly vibrated slightly. She shook her head and regained most of her senses, then took out one of the most popular mirrors on the market from her body.

This is her hope for revenge, her only way to return to normal.

The power of the Church of the God of Time and Space gave her a glimmer of hope in overthrowing George III.

"If I can get revenge, maybe I can finally find peace. Screw your revenge, one man, one man... Heh heh heh."

She screamed and yelled like a madwoman, then suddenly calmed down, and a big smile appeared on her face again.

The church leadership has agreed to meet with you at the Radiant Church.

The short line of ancient Hermes was like a therapist's treatment, instantly bringing Triss Chikla back from the brink of losing control.

Wednesday morning.

"Father Utravsky, do you have any good ideas?"

Emlyn White, dressed in the robes of the Earth Mother, squatted at the entrance of the Harvest Church in Monroe, gazing longingly at the Radiant Church, which was only a hundred meters away diagonally across the street.

People were packed together, waiting for their bread to be distributed. There was no chaos at all; instead, it was as quiet as a classroom.

Rows of uniformed security guards stood on both sides of the street to maintain order. If someone familiar with the area came by, they would surely recognize these armed security personnel, who had been running rampant in the East District not long ago.

Among them are people from the highlands, islands, or other ethnic groups from various other places.

The most fundamental interests of forming a gang are survival and making money. However, when another way of making money or another larger interest group comes into play, many gangs that are struggling to make a living will inevitably raise the white flag.

Gang leaders transformed into department heads, and their underlings transformed into armed personnel maintaining order.

Make money, not shabby.

Scamming prostitutes and the poor, risking their lives to fight for territory, is not as profitable as legalizing the business and making money under the banner of a company.

Therefore, when gangs become families and their businesses grow to a certain size, their greatest desire is to go legit and become respectable people.

Utravsky was clearly bewildered by what he saw, as he had never seen such a wild approach before.

"If someone had bribed me like that before I became a pirate, I definitely wouldn't have killed so many people."

"Emlin, whatever the method, it's always a good thing to persuade people to do good."

The burly priest, standing over two meters tall, gently instructs the depressed vampire, completely oblivious to the fact that the surrounding crowds are being drawn away by the Radiant Church.

"So, that's why you locked me in the basement in the first place!?"

Emlyn White's effeminately handsome face twisted for a moment, then he muttered under his breath:

"I thought you would condemn their act of buying faith with money and food. I don't think faith in God should be so vulgar."

Take Mr. Fool, for example; he's completely indifferent to money.

A thought flashed through his mind, and he thought of "Fate," the only person in the Tarot Club who could make a deal with money.

No wonder they need so much money; it turns out it's all gone. It seems even the gods are out of resources.

In that instant, Emlyn seemed to have glimpsed some great secret, and his heart was filled with pride in his own wisdom.

"But then again, Father, I think we need to think of another way. Those people at Radiant Church are backed by the World Peace Corporation, and they're giving out unlimited amounts of bread and holding Mass every day."

I started calculating last week. Each person can get 3 pounds of rye bread per day, and on average, there are about 16,000 to 17,000 people from morning to night. This is the total for all the stalls. Although there may be some discrepancies, they won't be too significant.

"Based on a calculation of 16,000, their daily expenses are quite substantial."

Oh, what a load of rubbish currency conversion units!

Emlinka paused for a moment, then uttered a number with a complex expression.

"That's a whopping 90 pounds a day, 2700 pounds a month, 5400 pounds in two months, and enough to make you a millionaire in Backlund in four months. And the number of bread stalls they're distributing is still increasing; I've even seen members of other churches sneaking over to attend Mass."

Does having money mean you can do whatever you want?

For Ron, who has access to a lot of resources, the cost could actually be lower, since all the bread is mass-produced and the cost is cheaper in large quantities.

"Father, I think we can't just sit here and wait to die. Although we don't have that much money, we can definitely pass on our knowledge of herbal medicine and teach people how to become doctors."

As Emperor Roselle once said, "It is better to teach people how to fish than to feed them fish."

I'm a genius!

Emlyn stood up excitedly, raised his chin arrogantly, and looked up at Father Utravsky, who was nearly two meters tall.

These days, nothing is easy. Even being a missionary who lives a peaceful life requires fierce competition.

(End of this chapter)