After sending his "application for membership" to the Twilight Hermit Order, Edward knew it wouldn't yield an immediate response. Still, that afternoon, he went out and bought all the major newspapers available in Backlund.
Unsurprisingly, there was nothing useful.
He then wrote a letter to Christine, selectively recounting his encounter with Verdu and the discovery of what might be the bow of the Laurel. On one hand, this was to demonstrate that he was taking her commission seriously; on the other, it was an excuse to fish for information about Verdu—especially whether the man used to wear a monocle.
Just as the messenger bird took off from the spirit world, Lilith dashed up to it, looked up with bright eyes, and asked in her clear little voice, "Hey! Can you tell Miss Lilith how you got so big? I want to grow up too!"
The bird froze, then reflexively said, "Eat feathers…"
"Eat feathers?"
Lilith looked down at the fur on her own legs, then up at the bird's plumage, and finally turned to Edward's hair.
Edward: "..."
He quickly cut in, "Lilith, it grew that way because it's special. You're different from it."
"Oh."
Lilith nodded obediently, but the gleam in her eyes made it obvious she didn't believe him at all.
Edward sighed and rubbed his forehead. Useless. That explanation was for nothing.
He wanted to clarify further, but couldn't come up with a convincing reason. After a moment, he waved his hand and sighed, "Do what you want."
"Meow?"
She tilted her head in mock confusion.
This little thing's acting skills were getting better and better!
Half an hour later, the messenger bird returned with a letter.
"A reply from the woman with no past."
The woman with no past?
Christine's nickname…was a little strange.
"Why do you say she has no past?"
The messenger bird replied, "She's missing some important memories from her past."
Got it.
Edward opened the letter and was a little surprised—he had expected Christine to explain things in person.
"Thank you, Mr. Edward.
The Verdu you met is an older brother figure I've known since childhood. Our families were in similar circumstances, and he always looked after me. You could say we grew up together. In that regard, Verdu is a good person.
However, he harbours a deep obsession with restoring the glory of the Abraham Family. For years, he has been searching for a way to break the family curse. He firmly believes that the Abraham ancestor is still alive, and that once found, the family can regain the greatness it had in the Fourth Epoch.
Regarding the sunken Laurel, the information I've received shows no signs linking it to the curse or to the ancestor. If there were, our predecessors would've pursued it long ago. So Verdu must have been misled.
Once again, thank you for your help.
Sincerely."
Edward set the letter down, suddenly recalling something—so this Verdu was the same Abraham from the later stages of the original plot who was tricked by Amon and Medici into releasing Mr. Door.
He looked at the messenger bird. "When you delivered the letter, where was Christine?"
"On a ship."
"No wonder."
He muttered under his breath, "Could it be that Christine also found clues about the Laurel?"
Back at the Pirate Conference, someone had offered information about the sunken Laurel, but that was when the dock fire broke out. The conference ended abruptly, and no one knew whether the pirate who had that intel had survived.
"Tsk. I remember the method to rescue Mr. Door was learned later by Trissy after conversing with him directly. Before that, the Abraham family knew nothing. So why is Verdu so convinced the Laurel holds the clues he needs?"
"Amon?"
Considering Verdu had donned a monocle, it was easy for Edward to reach that conclusion.
But if Amon was really involved, why go through all this elaborate treasure-hunt charade with Verdu?
For fun?
Uh…knowing that guy's personality, that might actually be the case.
In any event, if Amon was part of the equation, Edward knew to stay as far away as possible. A King of Angels who could steal fates and impersonate others might even be more terrifying than the Outer Gods themselves.
With that in mind, Edward wrote a reply to Christine:
"Miss Christine,
I've received word that the sunken Laurel might be tied to a very dangerous angel.
If you are on your way to investigate it, please think twice and proceed with extreme caution."
After handing the letter to the messenger bird, Edward thought for a moment and added, "After delivering this to Christine, could you do me a favour and visit Bernadette? Ask her about Botis' situation."
"Understood."
Half an hour passed without a reply from Bernadette. Edward tidied up and left the house—next on his list was conducting free astrology and divination sessions on the streets across various districts of Backlund, in order to fully digest the last remnants of the Astrologer potion.
———
Monday Morning.
As he had hoped, Edward once again found a similar classified ad on the last page of the Backlund Morning Post:
"Orilan Café in East Borough is now hiring one new employee. A training fee of 3 pounds and a 6-pound uniform purchase fee are required upon hiring.
Working hours are from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. daily, with no weekends off.
Salary negotiable.
Interested applicants, please come to the café for an interview as soon as possible. No walk-ins will be accepted after the deadline."
Even though Edward knew this was deliberately arranged by the Twilight Hermit Order, seeing this ad still gave him a mental whiplash—like the return of a long-dead memory of "996 Blessings"[1]
Any normal person, upon seeing this kind of job posting, definitely wouldn't apply.
Good thing I'm mentally unstable.
"Come on, Lilith, let's go eat."
"Okay~"
Lilith stretched lazily, used her hind leg to close the book in front of her, looking as if she had just woken up. She bounded into Edward's arms on quick little feet.
"What are we eating?"
"Steak."
"Steak again?"
The little one sounded disappointed.
"Can't you make some rat steak for Miss Lilith instead?"
"Uh…that's asking a bit much."
She lowered her head and stared at her own paws.
"If my paws were as nimble as humans', I could cook rat steak myself…"
"Then you'd better work hard. Once you advance to Sequence 7—Witch—there's a good chance you'll be able to turn into a human."
Lilith seemed conflicted.
"But Miss Lilith thinks being a cat is pretty nice. Still, if I became human, I could make rat steak, roast rat, rat steak rice, rat soup, steamed rat, baked rat…"
"…"
Edward instinctively imagined it for a second—and immediately felt nauseous.
——
A few minutes later—
Edward, now transformed into Gehrman Sparrow, stepped into the Orilan Café once again, holding Persian-cat-form Lilith in his arms.
This time, the slim, blond-haired man in gold-rimmed glasses was already waiting for him.
"Please, have a seat, Mr. Sparrow."
Compared to last time, his attitude seemed significantly improved.
Edward opened with a direct question, "I've fulfilled your request and released the evil spirit trapped underground. Now, may I have the Card of Blasphemy?"
"Didn't you already get it?"
"That was me retrieving it from the wraith using my own skills."
"Well, did you get it or not?"
"…"
The corner of Edward's eye twitched. Wasn't the Twilight Hermit Order supposed to be a high-level gathering of elites? How was this any different from barefaced sophistry?
After a moment of silence, he asked, "Does this mean I can officially join you now?"
The blond man shook his head.
"That was only a preliminary test to prove your capabilities. If you can complete the next task, you'll be able to join us."
He handed Edward a slip of paper.
Edward opened it—and was stunned.
Rescue Mr. Door?
He looked up at the blond man.
"Are you serious?"
The blond man shook his head. "Apologies. I don't know what's written on it, so I can't answer that. But I can tell you this: once you join us, you'll be able to view the Blasphemy Slate immediately."
"…"
Whoa. They were throwing out the Blasphemy Slate as bait now?
Edward frowned deeply.
What exactly is Adam trying to do?
Releasing Medici was already a stretch, but rescuing Mr. Door? What kind of mission was that?
Mr. Door was not someone who could be casually rescued!
Edward held immense respect for the former angel, exiled to the stars and tainted by the Mother Goddess. If it were truly possible, he'd like to help him too—but definitely not now!
Suddenly, he asked the blond man, "How did you join the Twilight Hermit Order?"
The man was taken aback for a moment.
"I was inducted after I embraced the ideology of the Tide of the Times."
"So, you didn't have to carry out missions like I do?"
"Of course not."
The man spoke seriously.
"I proved my worth and abilities in my own way."
After a pause, he added, "Each person's admission criteria is different. Each proves themselves differently. That is also the will of the Tide of the Times."
Edward pressed further, "And if the task I'm given is literally impossible?"
The man answered without hesitation:
"Then the problem lies with you."
Tch!
No wonder they were part of the ancient sun god's two sides—they were all so skilled at nurturing zealots.
The blond man stood up.
"I hope you'll join us soon and become one of us."
With that, he turned and left, leaving Edward frowning in contemplation.
Rescue Mr. Door?
This mission was absurd.
At this point in time, even Amon hadn't gotten hold of the first Blasphemy Slate yet. If Mr. Door really were brought back now, the Mother Goddess's contamination would flood in uncontrollably.
Even Amon, who was waiting to replace Mr. Door and become a god himself, surely understood that.
Did that Russian priest not worry that I might be some hotheaded idiot who'd charge in without thinking?
If something really went wrong, not even the Seven Gods could clean up the mess.
Wait a second…
That Russian priest knows I know how to rescue Mr. Door?
If he doesn't, then maybe this mission has a different real objective…
The sunken Laurel?!
He wants me to go search for the Laurel? After all, based on the 'intel' I currently possess, clues about rescuing Mr. Door likely lie hidden within it.
But aside from that, wasn't there another method—performing a ritual on a full moon to contact Mr. Door?
The more Edward thought about it, the more confused he became.
Just then, Lilith stood on her hind legs and patted his cheek with her paw.
"Edward, Miss Lilith is hungry. I want rat steak."
"Oh—right."
He quickly raised his hand to flag down the waiter.
"Excuse me, I'd like two servings of ra—uh, steak, and some fruit, please."
The waiter had just turned to leave when another voice chimed in.
"Add another steak to that."
That voice…
Edward paused and looked up—
It was his daughter, Bernadette, who was over a hundred years older than he was.
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.
[1] A satirical reference to overworking culture, especially in tech industries.