Backlund.
Hastur finally asked someone to investigate the situation of Chief Reed's family.
After that day's incident, a huge explosion occurred in their home. The baby died tragically on the spot, but Chief Reed and his wife were lucky enough to survive.
His wife, unable to bear the death of her own child, fell into madness, becoming dull and dazed.
Now she is housed in a welfare home.
Chief Reed also resigned from his post and now stays at the welfare home to accompany his wife.
Considering Chief Reed's outstanding past contributions, the police department gave him a generous sum of money so that he and his wife could remain in the welfare home and live out their days.
This was the official story released to the public.
The exact truth, however, Hastur did not know.
But one thing was certain: Chief Reed and his wife were still alive.
The so-called "living in the welfare home for retirement" seemed thought-provoking.
Most likely, they were being imprisoned. Outwardly, it might appear they had freedom, but in reality, every aspect of their lives was restricted.
This was a very normal and reasonable arrangement.
"Why are Chief Reed and his wife still alive?" Hastur muttered, feeling that something was wrong.
It wasn't that he wished for the death of Reed's family, but based on what had happened back then, there was simply no reason Chief Reed and his wife could have survived.
The baby parasitized by the High-Dimensional Overseer… On that day, even the Storm Church's Punishers lost many lives. Hundreds of nearby residents were killed or injured in the massive explosion, and that was after an early evacuation.
Not to mention the deaths caused by the sudden lightning strikes, the fires, and other accidents.
Given where Chief Reed and his wife had been, there was absolutely no reason for them to survive, unless the High-Dimensional Overseer deliberately kept them alive.
But Hastur could not believe that such an existence would have something like familial bonds. He would rather believe the Overseer had left some hidden contingency within them.
This was probably also the belief of the Storm Church's high-ranking members, which was why they imprisoned Reed and his wife in the welfare home under close supervision.
"Sigh, I just hope nothing else happens." Collecting his thoughts, Hastur took a carriage to the newly-built factory.
Because of the High-Dimensional Overseer incident, he had not paid much attention to the factory recently. Now that he had time, he felt he should at least take a look.
Accompanied by Manager Harley, Hastur toured the factory and learned that the sales of mosquito-repellent powder had been doing quite well.
The best-selling product was, of course, the most expensive one.
After all, nobles lacked nothing except the fear of losing face, competition was inevitable.
If it weren't for the concern that Klein might discover he himself was also a transmigrator, Hastur would have launched some campaigns, like producing a batch of special luxury editions, or holding a lottery-style event.
As long as someone bought a regular product, they would get a chance to draw a prize.
For the working class with tighter wallets, he could simply use pure gold pounds as prizes.
He could even adopt that "invite friends to cut the price" scheme, like some businesses did, he believed it could quickly help seize a large market share.
But Hastur only thought about it, without taking any action.
He was already unusual enough. Better not attract unnecessary attention.
In the afternoon, Hastur visited the law firm. With Lecturer Fron overseeing everything, operations there were running smoothly. Fron even planned to hire a few more lawyers next month to expand the business.
Hastur was more than happy to leave such matters in Fron's hands, as long as they earned him those lovely gold pounds.
At around 8 p.m., Hastur arrived at the Bravehearts Bar.
He was already considered a regular here. Kaspars walked over to greet him.
Holding his glass with a smile, Hastur said, "Mr. Kaspars, I'm glad to see you here again."
"It truly is a blessing." Kaspars clinked glasses with Hastur, his face filled with the joy of surviving disaster.
That day, lightning had struck wildly. His own home had been spared, but the house next door had been shattered by thunderbolts, killing the owner's two five-year-old children on the spot.
Pitiful. Life was so cheap.
After chatting a while with Kaspars, Hastur went to the billiard room to wait for Maric.
After about ten minutes, Maric arrived with his zombie squad.
His expression was dark, as if eager to pick a fight.
But Hastur spoke first: "This drink is to celebrate that we are all still alive."
Those words stopped Maric, who had been ready to cause trouble. With a sigh, he said, "Yes, being alive is indeed worth celebrating."
"Miss Sharon didn't come with you?"
"She still has something to take care of. She may not come tonight." Maric pulled out a chair, sat opposite Hastur, and had one of his zombies serve him a glass of wine.
"Tell me about your recent experiences. Let me broaden my horizons."
"They're not that eye-opening, but some interesting things did happen." Maric gave up on settling accounts with Hastur and began describing their journey.
The Rose School of Thought had indeed sent people to Backlund, which frightened them. But in the end, the Rose School of Thought fared even worse.
They were jointly targeted by the Churches of the Evernight Goddess, Steam and Machinery, and Storms, losing quite a few Beyonders in Backlund.
Sharon and the others had set out both to take revenge and to rescue the surviving Temperance faction members.
Everything went smoothly, especially in the last few days, when it was said that the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun had dispatched several archbishops to the Southern Continent.
Alongside the Storm Church, the Church of the God of Combat, the Earth Mother Church, local government armies, and other forces, they launched a massive purge against the Rose School of Thought.
This purge was unprecedented in scale, leaving the Indulgence faction of the Rose School of Thought devastated.
If not for her low Sequence, Sharon would have liked to take the chance to return to the Southern Continent.
After listening, Hastur curiously asked, "Is the Rose School of Thought any different now?"
"They're better at hiding. If they hadn't run so fast, they would have received a dual baptism of blazing sun and storm."
Maric grew excited as he spoke, and continued describing the upheaval in the Southern Continent.
Hastur only smiled while listening, but in his heart he thought of the cooperation between the Supernova Dominator and the Mother Tree of Desire.
After such a purge, the surviving Beyonders of the Rose School of Thought must have gone into hiding. It would be difficult to track down any trace of the Supernova Dominator.
Not knowing what the Supernova Dominator was up to was worrying.
If only Bernadette could advance to Sequence 2 soon, then she could explore the Southern Continent and uncover the schemes of the Supernova Dominator and the Mother Tree of Desire.
At 10 p.m., Hastur ended his conversation with Maric and took a carriage back home.
As he walked up to the second floor, he faintly sensed a familiar presence in the study.
Perhaps Sharon had come. It seemed she still liked to stay inside mirrors.
Hastur entered the study, closed the door, and sat on the sofa facing the mirror.
After a few minutes of silence, Sharon's shadow appeared in the mirror. This time, she didn't vanish in an instant but looked at Hastur with curiosity.
"Your aura seems to have changed?"
"Quite a lot has happened recently. I had some strange encounters and learned how to better hide my aura."
Sharon didn't pursue the matter but said: "Tell me what's been happening in Backlund lately."
Inside the mirror, Sharon also sat on a sofa, facing Hastur across the glass.
Hastur felt an odd illusion, that his own space was the one inside the mirror.
Suppressing the feeling, he began recounting events starting from the night the stars shone brilliantly.
Sharon's knowledge of mysticism was clearly far above Maric's. With Hastur's slightly embellished descriptions, she faintly guessed at the truth but dared not dwell too deeply.
The more she listened, the stranger she felt. That night, she too had gazed at the starry sky, but she hadn't felt anything like Hastur's immersive experience.
Through his words, the night seemed different, as though the fog was peeled back to reveal something more essential.
When Hastur finished, Sharon gazed at him deeply. "Your eyes… they seem able to see a more magical world."
"Perhaps I'm just good at imagining things."
"Your descriptions are wonderful."
"That's because I added a lot of fictional elements into ordinary events, which made Backlund's stories seem more magical and interesting."
After some thought, Sharon said, "Then you should be a writer."
"Unfortunately, I've already become a lawyer. Otherwise, I really would have wanted to depict a different world through writing."
"You could still write some short stories."
Sharon's voice was calm, but Hastur keenly sensed a subtle difference, she seemed to be looking forward to it.
Did Sharon enjoy listening to stories?
Thinking for a moment, Hastur cautiously said: "I do have many interesting and imaginative stories in my mind."
"Then you should write them down. Don't waste your imagination, it's a rare gift."
"But I'm a little lazy. For me, sitting at a desk and writing every day is endless torture."
"You could write whenever you have time."
"If I had to discipline myself, I might not finish even one story in a month."
After a moment of silence, Sharon softly said, "If you have time, I could supervise your writing."
Hearing this, Hastur immediately understood.
Miss Sharon, she really does like listening to stories. This little hobby… it was a bit like another person who loves to hear fairy tales.