Chapter 174

Tutval Street

Emlyn White overlooked one thing: human sleep schedules were different from his.

As a traditional vampire, he usually remained awake while the moon was up, even though he now held the rank of vampire viscount and could withstand sunlight, which he still found somewhat uncomfortable.

Generally speaking, who would dare knock on the door of Emlyn White, the great vampire savior, during daylight hours—even a mailman who'd delivered the wrong newspaper—would not receive a kind look from Lord Emlyn.

"Mr. Sacrifice, this is the place," Emlyn White said with a smile, pointing his finger toward a small shop nearby.

A green wooden sign hung from a horizontal iron rod, its white letters written in Common Tongue: "Dawer."

Outside the glass window facing the street, several lifelike mannequins wore delicate little Western dresses or fashionable Ruin-style noble attire, their hands folded neatly before them, dignified and elegant.

They were nearly indistinguishable from real people, but under sunlight, a faint reflection on their faces made them slightly unreal.

Su Lin nodded and followed Emlyn White into the shop.

Above the Grey Mist, Miss Kelaien picked up a manifested pen and contemplated his next move.

'Su Lin, because of the Fallen Mother Goddess, is now brimming with vengeance. Even without extra payment, he'll actively seek trouble with the Fallen Mother Goddess…'

'Hmm, Abbot—no, Sect Master, having a small heart occasionally isn't such a bad thing…'

'What I need to consider now is how to reach the Land of the Abandoned Gods while minimizing risk during Amon's possession—perhaps I can reach the Land of the Abandoned Gods without being possessed by Amon, but on the matter of Amon, I wish to avoid too many variables…'

'This is a troublesome enemy. Compared to Amon, Zarath's threat is not even half as great. I don't want him to suspect any connection between Su Lin and Zhongli and myself, or he'll adjust his strategies accordingly in the future…'

'With Adam, I should restrain my foolish impulse to show off before a writer, but handing him the Grosseur Travelogue directly leaves me dissatisfied. After all these years, he must have accumulated considerable wealth…'

'Not "must," but certainly—the leaders of the Twilight Hermit Society and the Redeeming Rose possess numerous high-rank Supernatural Traits and Supernatural Items…'

'If I keep War Angel Medici here, the angel from the Artificial Death God side will surely suspect something is wrong with the Artificial Death God, which will interfere with the Night Goddess's current containment of the Path.'

'Even with two Sequence 0 combatants on my side, too many constraints remain. Some things are unavoidable yet must still be done.'

Miss Kelaien looked at the empty hall, his deep sigh echoing—but overall, having made any change was already a significant improvement.

Seven days remain until the bombing of Beckland.

"Master," the butler Walter brought a cup of coffee into the study and hesitated before calling out.

"What is it?" Miss Kelaien rubbed his temples. "Is it the arms shipment from East Baylan?"

"No," Walter bowed deeply to Miss Kelaien. "This is the bill from your guest, Chris Morra. Please review it."

Walter handed him a single sheet of paper listing Zhongli's purchases from yesterday. Miss Kelaien skipped over the trivial items and jumped straight to the total: 133 gold pounds, 7 shillings, 9 pence.

Klein suddenly remembered that a lecturer's weekly stipend during his internship at Tingen University was one gold pound, and after permanent appointment, 3 gold pounds and 10 shillings—Mr. Azk had only that much.

Still, it was acceptable. A low-sequence potion on the black market cost more than this. Excluding the currency provided yesterday by Miss Justice and Mr. Hanged Man for the ritual offerings to the Earth God, his actual expenditure was less than 100 gold pounds.

I should encourage the Tarot members not to waste this rare opportunity. The chance to trade non-valuable items with deities is extremely rare. I expected others to eagerly participate, but total income these past few days has been under 100 pounds.

I should organize an operation in the name of the World, subtly hinting they should trade more with the Earth God and hold more offering rituals. Yes, guide them to exchange items as much as possible for the Earth God's aid, blessings, or power. If all else fails, they can learn from Mr. Hanged Man and Miss Justice to store and accumulate—do not defile this sacred, grand trade with money.

This ensures everyone benefits: Zhongli's travel experience is satisfied, the other Tarot members receive divine aid, and the Great Fool achieves revenue generation.

A triple-win situation.

"Hmm, I see," Miss Kelaien nodded and asked Walter, "Will he return for dinner today?"

Walter's expression turned peculiar, with a hint of confusion. "Mr. Morra received an invitation from the head chef of Serenzo Restaurant—he'll be tasting the new dishes tonight, Master. It seems your guest is a great food connoisseur."

Good. The cost of tonight's dinner is saved.

Miss Kelaien glanced out the window: sunshine bright, white clouds drifting across the blue sky—and yet Su Lin had dragged a vampire out shopping.

Talent.

"Has the stockpile been completed?" Miss Kelaien suddenly asked.

"As you instructed, Master, we've bulk-stocked salted meats and long-storable vegetables. By the way, recently others have been buying these items aggressively, just like us. And our cash flow…" Walter didn't understand why Mr. Dawn Tans had stockpiled so much supply—even selling the cellar's wine at a discount—but since it was his master's order, he could only carry it out fully.

But now, the cash flow sustaining the Chamber of Commerce's daily operations has already been affected. If this continues, even running the businesses may become problematic.

Not to mention Mr. Morra's expenses.

"It's fine. Keep buying. It'll improve after this period," Miss Kelaien knew these circumstances well, but this war would only truly end with the death of the God of War and the defeat of the Fasak Empire, during which countless refugees starved to death.

If we don't stockpile food now, when war comes, noble grain merchants won't miss the chance to raise prices. Some nobles with compassion might aid a few refugees, but it would be like a drop in the ocean.

Even the food I'm stockpiling now can only be distributed to some civilians early on. In the middle and later stages of war, conditions will be hardest—but by then, food pressure will gradually ease, and the major orthodox churches will have enough time to provide aid.

Actually, there's another method—but it's somewhat dangerous.

Miss Kelaien originally didn't want to activate this final backup connection, but preparing contingency measures in advance is always wise.

After the butler Walter bowed and exited the room, Miss Kelaien took out an ink pen, pulled a sheet of letter paper from a drawer, and wrote—

【My dear friend Frank Lee: During my recent travels across the Southern Continent, I discovered a conflict between two large tribes, and innocent lives have been caught in it—what a pity.】

【You know that natives can only accept ordinary-tasting mushrooms. If mushrooms carry the flavor of roasted meat, they become terrified. So, do you have any way…】

Miss Kelaien reviewed the letter, then signed at the bottom.

【Your friend, Germaine Sparrow】

Stuck today—only two thousand words. I'll make up tomorrow. Sorry.

End of Chapter