About the time I was picked up and adopted by Tallulah

"What?" "Eh!?" "What is Miss Jeanne saying?"

As Orson spoke, the people around who were watching the "birth of the saint" instantly exploded.

"What is your reason? Can you tell us?"

The dean was not as flustered as one might have imagined. She just nodded slightly and asked Xiang Orsen.

Kong Xian on the side was also extremely lost. She wanted to know more than anyone else why this "nun who left Lateran due to an accident a long time ago but was still dedicated to doing good" chose to leave.

"My... my, uh... my brother, and my companions—my brother's companions—will not be satisfied with stopping here."

"In order to catch up... in my brother's footsteps, I must do my utmost to move forward, in order to... make this world a better place than it was yesterday."

"Ms. Jeanne" spoke in a halting manner, and her expression was no longer as calm as before, and even her eyes were a little evasive.

Of course, Orson was almost crying with shame because he was "seriously COSing a woman calling a man like him brother in public".

But Kong Xian didn't understand it that way. She directly interpreted Orson's actions at the moment and made up a completely new version of her mind.

"I... I understand! Miss Jeanne is also very reluctant to leave. She can't let go of the hometown she just arrived at, but she has to leave again. However, there are more lofty and far-reaching goals urging her. Miss Jeanne and Mr. Orson... Their goal is not to find their own home, nor to own a larger mansion for themselves. Their purpose is - for those who are homeless."

——What?

Miss Jeanne blinked, having completely failed to anticipate Kong Xian's sudden appearance at this moment, and she had no idea how everyone would react after she said this.

After a few extremely agonizing seconds—loud applause broke out in the monastery. This was the answer.

People did not blame Miss Jeanne for running away on her first day at work because everyone agreed with Mr. Orson's philosophy - or rather, his imagination.

After the departure incident was resolved so casually, the subsequent process did not have so much sense of ceremony.

The only thing worth mentioning is that when 'Miss Jeanne' was asked 'what kind of materials are mainly exchanged between the Security Company Integrated Sports Association and the Landon Abbey', 'Jeanne' answered 'beer'.

After that, someone started to make a fuss, and everyone hoped that 'Miss Joan of Arc' could have a drink on the spot, so that an advertisement could spread throughout Rutland.

Facing countless gazes and cameras, 'Miss Jeanne' could only smile, then looked towards Exia, her eyes conveying the emotion of "I'll go first", and then drank the beer in the glass in her hand.

--------

"Uh...where is this...?"

When I woke up, I found myself on a public transport bus heading to the port.

Orson took out his cell phone from his pocket in a daze and found a lot of messages left on it.

The first one came from the lady in charge of Langdon Abbey. The general content was to express congratulations and reluctance to part, and hoped that Orson would have the opportunity to return to Lateran, and that no matter where the "Sister" was, she would enjoy all the citizen rights of Lateran.

Then came the text message from Kong Xian.

The empty string in the text message used a lot of roundabout words, hinting at the strategy of retreating to advance, surrounding Wei to save Zhao, stealing the home and changing homes.

But the core ideas are actually only two points: "Does your brother Mr. Orson have a girlfriend?" and "What kind of girl does your brother Mr. Orson like?"

What followed was a happy recollection of this period of time and extremely solemn words of gratitude.

"Alas... this is too..."

Orson, who was both a brother and a sister, sighed, not knowing how to respond to Kong Xian.

Considering what Kong Xian had said in the monastery before, even Orson knew that he had gained a new fan girl on this trip to Lateran.

Then came the text message from Angel.

"Are you awake, Jeanne-chan? Ah, it's okay to just call you Orson now, right? Anyway, you were really amazing last night after drinking that bottle of beer! You looked timid at first, but after drinking too much, you suddenly started asking people to "pray" one by one. And the prayer posture was you rubbed their heads seriously. You rubbed everyone in the church! Although this behavior is actually quite sensitive, because of the reason of 'seeing a different side of the saint', everyone basically turned a blind eye. By the way, you only asked people taller than you."

Wow...what on earth did I do yesterday?

Orson rubbed his eyes and complained quietly.

Exiah did not go back with Orson. She said she was going to look for Mastema.

Mastema...

Orson took the small key from his pocket. The next destination should be obvious.

In a sense, the origin of "Orson" may also be the "end" of "Doctor".

Orson once firmly believed that he was a "stranger" from another world, and that this world was a "game" with a blueprint and rules.

But the increasing sense of "disharmony" made Orson gradually realize one thing - perhaps he was not a foreigner, but an ordinary person like Tallulah Frost Star and the others, born in this continent and was inconspicuous.

The doctor's memory, his own memory, the false memory, and the real memory.

Orson's definition of himself is becoming increasingly vague, which is also a reflection of his getting closer and closer to the shackles.

The North...that's where it all began.

"By the way, Orson, there's something I need to tell you."

——Isn’t the text message over yet?

Orson noticed that there was still a second half to the text message from Angel, so he scrolled down his phone:

"Last night... I was really happy, and... well, really happy—woohoo, I feel like I've become an idiot! In short, you are my righteous one, and I, Remuel, the Angel of Exorcism, will never betray you until all the vows in the world fade away, even if the stars and gods dim and depart."

"Also... Also, how should I put it... If I don't take any measures, isn't it possible that 'that'... should I secretly find some time to check it out?"

"Finally...it turns out this kind of thing takes a lot more energy than I thought. I'm sorry I missed the first transport ship bound for Ursus. Next time I'll treat you to apple pie as apology~"

……

……

"What the hell did I do last night!?"

Orson pinched his hair with both hands, and he wanted to go find Mostima immediately and ask the locksmith to help him see if he still had any memory of drinking yesterday.

21. Silence of the North

Brake—brake…boom!

Gently rub the match and throw it into the pile of fire in front of you. A dim flame suddenly jumps out from the darkness, and the flame with dispensable heat source sways slowly on the stage made of wood blocks.

"Ha... It's cold, but not as cold as I imagined."

Leaning against the roots of a big tree, Orson, who was barely setting up camp, blew on his hands, then rubbed them over the fire while gazing at the surrounding scenery.

This is the almost uninhabited northern region of Ursus. Compared with Che City, where the change of seasons is quite obvious, the North has only winter and colder winters.

Orson, who is on paid vacation, returned to this frozen land today.

The colors that caught my eye were almost all pure white. There was only a thin layer of snow on the other side of the city, but here it was piled up so much that it seemed to be able to bury itself.

The surrounding silence made the crackling sound of the firewood seem a little harsh. Orson leaned against the tree trunk with his eyes slightly closed, quietly feeling the long-lost and nostalgic silence.

Normally, because of the high-rise buildings in the city, people can hardly see the so-called horizon, and the maximum visibility distance is only a few kilometers.

However, Orson was now in a quiet and secluded corner of the North. All he could see was the pure white horizon connecting the sky and the ground. With the setting sun slowly setting in the distance, the sense of emptiness surged like waves, enveloping the extremely tiny flame in the snow.

It feels like... a long time has passed.

The biting cold wind that blew from time to time prevented Orson from falling asleep, but of course he didn't intend to fall asleep in such a place.

Orson looked at the slightly orange-red evening sky and unconsciously began to recall what he had experienced on this land.

Born in an unknown border village, struggling to survive, facing endless suffering day after day, the sudden influx of infected refugees, the extremely naive and failed "rescue" operation, and - the howling of the corpses clustered around him being cut off in the flames and ruins.

Finally, that dazzling light appeared in his sight.

Chi-

A sudden gust of wind swept across the snowfield, completely extinguishing the already shaky fire. Meanwhile, the setting sun, which met the horizon, finally disappeared completely from view, and darkness eagerly encroached upon the area where Orson stood.

Night has officially arrived in the north, and the rapidly increasing temperature difference around it also confirms this.

White mist exhaled from Orson's mouth, forming a very obvious pale trail on the ice field. The air inhaled from his mouth seemed to be mixed with blades, and had to be slowly transported into the lungs to avoid being cut.

If it were an ordinary person, he would immediately light the bonfire again, and then curse the terrible weather in the North while frantically adding firewood.

"I really miss you..."

But Orson was different. He allowed his body to adapt to the environment that had been with him since birth by breathing slowly. At the same time, he allowed himself to be exposed to the snow-white darkness without any cover, allowing his skin to closely feel the cold that belonged only to the North.

Gradually, the body recalled the experience of survival on this ice field and adapted to the surrounding environment at an incredible speed.

It was truly bizarre. Previously, he had felt that this freezing temperature was like the god of death, stalking him at every turn, intent on snatching his life away. However, when Orson returned to the North, he was surprised to discover that this cold wasn't so unbearable. Instead, it was somewhat... nostalgic.

Is it because the coldest period has passed, so the temperature is slowly rising? Or is it simply that my tolerance level has increased?

On a snowy night, Orson was slowly thinking about these meaningless questions, and at this moment, a more violent hurricane came roaring.

"Hmm—this does feel like the old times."

Orson shielded his eyes with one hand. The biting wind grew stronger and stronger, eventually turning into a sudden blizzard. The snowflakes didn't resemble the silky fluff you see in comic books and movies, but more like countless shards of razor blades, stinging your skin like a burning fire.

“Wa ...

With a loud bang, the camping tent that Orson had placed next to him was completely blown away and was instantly eaten up by the raging blizzard without any mercy.

Orson reached out to grab the tent, but all he pulled back was a fragment.

"My tent..."

Orson looked at the fragments in his hand and wanted to kneel on the ground and yell "Tent—Tent—" but it was freezing and snowy. Was he really going to get angry with the blizzard? That would only make things worse for himself.

Although Orson had prepared to face the North before setting off, it was obvious that due to his life in Checheng/Casimir/Longmen during this period, Orson's awe and preparation for this land were far from enough.

Looks like we need to find a place to stay for the night...

Orson sighed and stood up from the tree trunk, shaking off the snowflakes on his head, and then moved deeper into the North.

------

In an abandoned and uninhabited settlement, a group of people wearing Ursus patrol uniforms were lying in an abandoned house in a scattered and disorderly manner.

"Damn it... Another snowstorm! There's no end in sight for this awful weather!"

One of the patrol members walked to the window, looked out, then sat down on the creaky wooden sofa with a curse.

"You just got here, right? Ha, you'll get used to it slowly. This kind of weather is as common as drinking water in the North."

Lying on the bed in the corner, the oldest man in the group responded with a smile, turning over so his cheek was facing the stove.

"Who the hell needs to adapt...! This isn't what I expected at all! This isn't how a patrol team is supposed to be!"

The man banged hard on the armrest of the sofa, his tone filled with dissatisfaction and anger. After the man took the initiative to provoke a conversation, several other people in uniform in the room followed suit.

"We wouldn't have slept in such a shabby place before, and we certainly wouldn't have spent every day scouting like we do now. What are we scouting? The air? Or the blizzard?"

"That's right!" "What the hell is that!"

"These untouchables who lived in the wasteland have now fled to settle near Che City, and yet we have to patrol this godforsaken place. Who are we patrolling for? The patrol team isn't there to run errands!"

"That's right!" "Patrol is bullshit!"

People followed suit and expressed their dissatisfaction. After all, these people originally belonged to the Ursus patrol team, and the patrol team was a relatively special organization in the Ursus national force, with a relatively high position.

Of course, these established facts have long become a thing of the past. The changes on the Terra continent were too turbulent, and even the Ursus Patrol was not spared.

"First of all, we are no longer a patrol team. Have you forgotten this?"

"Tsk...!"

The man who looked like the team leader and was lying on the bed got up from the bed, walked to the chair by the fireplace, and sat down facing the angry members.

Under the light of the fire, one could clearly see a very shocking wound on the man's cheek, about 20 cm long.

"The Third Army's Intelligence and Reconnaissance Unit - the Northern Cold Scourge Task Force - this is the name of the organization we're currently affiliated with. Do any of you not understand the meaning of 'reconnaissance unit'?"

The man looked at everyone, and those team members all had expressions on their faces that showed they wanted to refute but couldn't.

"Don't you find it ridiculous, Captain? We used to be the patrol team that made everyone bow their heads wherever we went! But after that bullshit [Kiryo Incident], our authority has been revoked. This is too unreasonable!"

The young team member was still making excuses, while the scarred man called the captain shrugged and smiled.

"You're supposed to exploit and rob wherever you go, right? Hehe. I know what you miss. These refugees who have relocated to the newly established hub settlements around Che City were nothing more than walking ATMs to you. Even their lives were something you could easily take away."

"...You keep saying 'you guys'. Weren't you also a member of the patrol team? Now you act like you've distanced yourself from it. It's really ridiculous. Speaking of which, some people say that the scar on your face was caused by [Silence]. What's going on? Were you scared by that guy and are now desperately trying to distance yourself from the past?"

Faced with the captain's words, the team members who had no way to refute chose to take the initiative and question the captain.

"Probably, but there's one thing you're not right about."

The man was not much moved by the team members' almost provocative words. He took off his gloves and gently touched the scar on his face with his fingers.

Even after more than ten months, the wound will still sting slightly, but this sting can let the man know that he is still alive.