Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

Goodness, you're even more drunk than me; this is practically straight out of the Water Margin.

However, Theresa, standing to the side, frowned deeply when she saw Wayne pull out the crucifix, and asked with a puzzled look:

"Mr. Bruce, where did you get this?"

Wayne glanced at Theresa, made a "shh" gesture to his lips, patted Exusiai on the shoulder, and said:

"You really don't recognize him?"

“I don’t recognize it, but it looks like something from Laterano.” Exusiai tried harder to identify it, but finally shook her head helplessly. “I have a very good memory, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to graduate from the religious academy!”

Didn't you graduate because you blew up the school? Ms. Remuel, a demolition expert who wishes to remain anonymous?

Wayne mentally muttered a complaint and said:

"Then could you please call Mostima over here?"

Exusiai pouted, knowing that today's story time was over and it was time to get down to business. She could only nod, stand up unsteadily, and walk towards the bar with each step unsteady but not falling.

A moment later, Mostima returned to the rest area and instinctively wanted to sit next to Wayne, but Theresa had already taken her seat. Mostima could only exchange a glance with Theresa before choosing the seat opposite Wayne.

Vina, unaware of what had just happened, saw that Wayne was sitting on a three-seater sofa and naturally sat down to his left. She even nudged Wayne, gesturing for him and Theresa to move over a bit, as her seat was a bit cramped.

Mostima stared blankly, wanting to speak but unsure what to say.

However, Wayne was now focused on getting down to business, so he spoke directly:

"Thank you for the information you provided this afternoon. It was very useful, Mostima."

The intelligence naturally refers to Wei Yanwu's act of transporting goods orders under the guise of gifting them to distinguished guests. Mostima is certainly a principled person, but in her principles, love comes first, and work second.

Mostima nodded: "I'm glad I could help you."

Just like in her conversation with Exusiai, Wayne displayed the golden cross necklace before her and asked:

"Do you know what this is, Mostima?"

In Victoria, when Wayne received the necklace, it wasn't actually given to him by Mostima, but by Urbino, the first-generation contact. Wayne asked this to see if Mostima knew anything useful.

Mostima raised an eyebrow in surprise when she saw Wayne pull out the cross necklace, but still nodded.

"I know, didn't you used to hang it up all the time?"

She explained:

"This necklace is a symbol of Lateran. Possessing different levels of necklaces essentially equates to different levels of privilege. For example, Your Highness Wayne's is the highest level. Gold is the color of nobility, the color of His Holiness's crown, and the color of statues of gods. Simply put, this necklace was personally bestowed upon you by His Holiness the Pope. If you take this to a church under the Lateran Catholic Church, you will enjoy the highest level of privilege. If you take it directly to the Holy City, you can also enjoy the rights to permanent residency and social security. Of course, this is just a simplified explanation. There are many more intricacies to this necklace. The symbolic significance of His Holiness the Pope personally bestowing it is already an iceberg."

An iceberg at sea is only one or two tenths of its actual usefulness, as what is visible is less than a tenth or a twelfth.

Mostima was somewhat curious when Wayne suddenly asked this question:

"Why are you suddenly asking about this? Has Laterano discovered something?"

If it is indeed Laterano who discovered Wayne's problem, even if it is fraught with danger, Mostima has decided that he must return to Laterano for Wayne's sake.

But Wayne shook his head: "It's related to Laterano, but not to me."

He suspended the necklace in mid-air, looking at it against the light, while the sacred, golden cross was shrouded in shadow.

"This is what Wei Yanwu's briefcase contains."

He muttered to himself.

Chapter Sixty-Four: The Saintess with a Faint Presence

What Wayne saw in Wei Yanwu's briefcase was a cross like this. However, compared to the golden cross pendant in Wayne's hand, Wei Yanwu's looked somewhat inferior. It was silver and didn't have many exquisite carvings.

Even so, when Wayne uttered this information to himself, Mostima stared in shock.

"Did Wei Yanwu own a necklace like this?"

"Yes, it's in that safe you were protecting. You brought it back under the pretext of it being a gift for a VIP."

Wayne tossed the pendant onto the table. This necklace, a symbol of Lateran papal authority, meant little to him. Times had changed. After the Reformation, Lateran and Victoria were no longer rivals on any level. Having taken control of the independent Anglican Church, and with the trusted Patriarch Broca personally managing it, Victoria was no longer spiritually controlled by Lateran. She could freely interpret scripture, refute authority, and firmly grasp the initiative in her own hands.

The necklace, of course, lost its purpose. If Wayne continues to deal with the Laterans in the future, he might wear it symbolically again; otherwise, he'll probably only include a photo of himself wearing the necklace with his monthly payment requests to the Pope.

But Wayne didn't care. For Wei Yanwu, this thing was indeed his greatest reliance, his lifeline.

"He treasured that necklace. Oh, right, the necklace was silver."

Wayne added. Mostima frowned slightly, rested his chin on his hand, pondered for a moment about the power distribution in Laterano, and answered:

“If it’s silver, then it couldn’t possibly be a gift from His Holiness the Pope himself… The Lateran order is very strict. Even a slight violation of the rules or an overstepping of boundaries could result in the execution of the Inquisition. His Holiness the Pope wouldn’t break the rules himself… But I have never seen a silver cross before.”

Silver is a sacred color, second only to gold, the color of the Pope, in the Papacy, symbolizing nobility and authority. However, the scepters held by the College of Cardinals, who are theoretically only subordinate to the Pope, are not actually silver, but brass. This symbolizes perseverance, courage, honesty, and justice. Therefore, a necklace bestowed by a cardinal should naturally be brass, in the same color as their primary symbol, rather than silver.

According to Lateran rules, different ranks have their own precepts, which must never be crossed. In other words, no cardinal would dare to violate these precepts and issue a silver necklace instead of a brass one without authorization. The silver necklace in Wei Yanwu's hand must have been awarded by someone of higher rank than a cardinal but lower than the pope, someone who embodies the characteristic of "holiness."

But who is this person?

Mostima tried her best to recall, but she always felt she was just a little bit off from the truth. It was as if a fog was obscuring the figure that was about to emerge, causing Mostima to subconsciously ignore her existence.

Just then, Theresa suddenly stood up, raised her hand, and placed it on Mostima's full head of blue hair.

"Ok?"

Interrupted from her thoughts, Mostima looked up at Theresa in confusion. Theresa simply made a shushing gesture with her lips and whispered:

"Keep thinking. It's okay, don't stop."

Wayne nodded, signaling Mostima to continue.

Theresa is a meticulous person; the fact that she would suddenly reach out and touch Mostima's head must mean she has discovered something.

Theresa is a demon lord with profound knowledge of souls, a skill that even Wayne cannot match. It's possible she can see more than Wayne. Therefore, Wayne chooses to trust her.

Mostima pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, but then closed her eyes. As if to synchronize her thoughts, Theresa also closed her eyes, activated her Originium Arts, and a soft, milky-white light gradually emanated from her palms.

A moment later, Mostima opened his eyes, a strange light flashing in them, and said:

"I know! It's her..."

A saint of the Lateran Catholic Church, codenamed Michael, a holy and noble person.

Mostima, still shaken, uttered her name.

How could she have subconsciously ignored this person just now? She clearly remembered seeing that red-haired girl standing beside the Pope in the Papal Palace hall during her return from Victoria to Lateran, the one who had harshly questioned Urbino. But just as she had subconsciously forgotten her presence in her memory, Michael's presence at that time was also terrifyingly weak.

She had striking long, wine-red hair, and a face so beautiful it could captivate even women, yet she seemed so special that she was difficult to notice at first glance. Unless she spoke, people would hardly realize she was standing there, or how much time had passed.

“Michael Wayne, you must be careful of this woman.”

Mostima warned with a serious expression.

While the Locks of Time and the Keys of Order couldn't directly enhance her spirit, the fact that these artifacts carried fragments of sealed gods had already honed Mostima's spiritual power to a level far exceeding that of ordinary people over the long years. However, even she couldn't be immune to Michael's faintly noticeable special ability. She had to inform Wayne of this information.

"Her presence is faint, and she is very cunning and scheming. I haven't met her many times, and even with Princess Theresa's help, I can only barely recall any information about her. If Wei Yanwu's silver cross really comes from Michael, then please be careful, as things may be more complicated than you and I think."

Wayne nodded, looked at Theresa, and gave her a thumbs-up. Theresa smiled and sat back down on the sofa.

In fact, she could have gone further and made Mostima directly recall all information related to Michael. However, doing so would cause Mostima's memories, along with Michael's information, to flow into Theresa's mind via Originium Arts. This was a highly offensive act. Theresa wouldn't do it. Enough was enough.

At least, we have a basic understanding of the potential enemies, haven't we?

Vina had listened for most of the day and basically understood what Wayne meant. She thought for a moment and suggested:

"Should I have the unicorn investigate Michael's matter?"

“A unicorn?” Wayne raised an eyebrow. “The other side is Laterano, is there any possibility of being exposed?”

“Let Winster go.” Vina patted her chest, making Theresa and Mostima’s eyelids twitch simultaneously. “Only the two of us can get him to go.”

Chapter Sixty-Five: The Purple Star Sets in the West, Chaos is About to Begin

Victoria, Lentinium, Big Ben.

Big Ben, the unicorn, is an ancient building that still retains traces of the Middle Ages. As the head of the Victorian bell ringers, Winston lives a leisurely retirement life every day.

Have some tea, red, green, domestic, and imported from China, a little of everything.

Play chess, black or white, Western or Chinese, you can play any game.

Attentive observers may notice that the lives of the elderly seem inextricably linked to the term "Da Yan" and the country behind it.

This is not surprising. As the oldest nation in the world, the Great Yan Dynasty has left behind a wealth of cultural treasures. From compasses and gunpowder to Go and chess, some of these may have been replaced by today's advanced Originium technology, but others have become more immortal through the long river of time.

As a tall man, Winster naturally had several friends from Yan Country. Among them was the bearded old man who was currently playing chess with him remotely via video.

The old man was dressed in official robes, but he didn't look serious at all. His unkempt long hair was disheveled and hung loosely over his shoulders, and his official hat and sash were tied in a tight knot, probably just thrown on. But contrary to his slovenly appearance, the old man had a pair of dragon eyes and phoenix eyes, sword-like eyebrows and a high nose. Even though wrinkles covered his face and brows, if he dressed up carefully, he would definitely be considered a handsome old man.

As someone who could play chess with Winster, the old man's identity was naturally not simple.

"I say, Supervisor, it's just a trivial game of chess. Why do you have to close your eyes and calculate every single move?"

Winster smirked and scolded, "If you keep playing like this, how long will this game go on? Next year? The year after?"

"When we play chess, we're aiming for victory or defeat. Every move must be made with utmost effort; one wrong move, and the whole game is lost. That's what you don't understand." The Grand Astrologer of the Great Yan Dynasty—[Si Ming]—stroked his beard and smiled.

"Besides, what's wrong with playing until next year? I observe the celestial phenomena every night and then make my moves the next day. Do you think you can outplay me?"

"Then I won't play."

Winston simply overturned the table, stood up, and patted his somewhat wrinkled white robe.

Did you anticipate this?

"No," the divination master shook his head frankly. "My divination accuracy is fifty percent. Whether you bet with me or not is inherently a fifty percent probability, so what's the point of whether my divination is accurate or not?"

"Boring," Winster muttered. Ever since becoming the Originium Arts instructor for Surtr and Mudrock, Winster had been constantly annoyed, thinking every day about how to get rid of the two girls so he could return to his previous carefree life.

But now that Surtle and Mudrock have actually been sent to schools in New Wales, Winster is finding it a bit hard to adjust.

Although those two guards of Prince Wayne were not mature in many ways, they were all top-notch talents in various aspects.

With just a little training, their future achievements would be limitless. Now that they were gone, Winston, suddenly with nothing to do, was at a loss. He thought about going to the school to get those two back, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was the one who complained to Her Majesty the Queen and requested a strike, and now he's the one being asked to return to his post. A unicorn, a company of such stature, can it really beg for favors?

Just when I had nothing to do, an old friend suddenly messaged me, wanting to play chess with me.

Before rushing off to the North, Winston had played a game of chess with the Overseer. The Overseer hadn't cheated by using divination or his third eye, and Winston almost won. However, he inadvertently answered a phone call, and the Overseer flipped the table, reducing the chessboard to zero. Winston had left in a hurry and hadn't had time to argue with the Overseer about it. Now that the Overseer wanted to play chess with him, and since Winston had nothing else to do, and was hoping to subdue him, he readily agreed.

Unexpectedly, this guy resorted to cheating when he couldn't win. He's clearly an old comrade, yet he's so unsportsmanlike. It's truly shameful!