Silas ascended the steps, leaving the gloomy temple behind and arriving at the above-ground portion of the building.
Several black-robed attendants were already standing in place waiting. They had originally served Mr. A, and at this moment, a pale golden light flickered in their eyes. After Silas had infiltrated the building, he had first hypnotized them before confidently heading underground.
By now, all personnel in this building were under his control.
"Show me around this house."
He said to the hypnotized attendants.
The attendants obediently led the way, showing him the various rooms of the house. The first floor contained small rooms—the attendants' cramped quarters, kitchen, bathroom, and the like. Mr. A's room was on the second floor. The moment Silas pushed open the door, an intensely thick smell of blood rushed into his nostrils.
The full view of the room came into sight.
The outward-facing windows were blocked by heavy curtains, making the light dim. The spacious room contained only a few simple pieces of furniture: a bed, chairs, a nightstand. Against the wall stood a thick, heavy safe.
On the wall directly opposite the bed hung a small inverted cross, likewise bearing an upside-down naked giant.
Silas frowned, looking at the room with disgust. If it were just the inverted cross on the wall, it wouldn't be enough to make him show such an expression. What truly made him uncomfortable was an absolutely abnormal phenomenon throughout the entire room.
—Blood-colored text.
Crimson, crooked handwriting densely covered the walls, the floor... every available blank surface had been occupied. These words were chaotic and disordered, endlessly praising and glorifying the True Creator.
A powerful sense of madness transmitted through the text. He could imagine the corresponding scene: on countless blood-red nights, Mr. A, in his frenzy, bit open his fingers and, while murmuring corrupted prayers, wrote wildly on the walls, not caring even when the flesh on his fingers wore away...
"Madman."
Silas said coldly, walking further into the room.
On Mr. A's bed, he discovered a binding strap covered with fine metal barbs, stained with blood.
A penitential belt.
This was a tool that exchanged physical pain for mental focus. When tightly bound around the thigh, the metal barbs would pierce through skin and flesh. Every time the wearer moved, it would bring intense pain.
This level of pain is far too mild.
Silas shook his head.
He searched the entire room but found nothing of value, finally turning his gaze to the thick safe.
"Do you know the combination?"
He asked the attendants behind him.
Several attendants, with faint golden light flickering in their eyes, shook their heads in confusion.
It seemed he could only open it himself.
"Boom!"
Silas spread his palm, creating a lava sword, and used the tip of this scorching, sharp longsword to slowly pierce into the safe. He didn't pierce too deeply, worried that the high-temperature sword might damage valuable items inside.
"Hiss—"
The cabinet body emitted a soft sound, with smoke rising. Silas carefully moved the blade along the frame, completely cutting away the safe door. This thick safe might be able to stop ordinary people and low-sequence Beyonders, but for him, it was somewhat inadequate.
Silas gripped the handle, about to remove the door, when he suddenly stopped his movement, as if sensing something.
He thought for a moment, separated a piece of flesh and blood, forming it into a crimson wall standing in front of him, then slowly removed the door.
"Whoosh!"
Sure enough, the moment the safe door opened, a mass of blood-red mist immediately gushed out from inside, but was blocked by the flesh wall, only producing a burning sound.
Silas manipulated the wall to gather inward and close, finally wrapping all the mist within the flesh mass.
After finishing this, he had the leisure to look inside the safe.
Then Silas felt somewhat disappointed.
He saw that in this two-tiered safe, only the second tier held several stacks of cash and a few property deeds, along with four or five pieces of jewelry.
The first tier was completely empty, retaining only traces of aura, as if extraordinary materials or sealed artifacts had previously been stored there.
"Where are the items from above?"
He asked the attendants.
"They were taken by His Excellency the Saint,"
One attendant said in a dazed tone. "Those will count as Mr. A's contributions to the organization."
Taken by that Dark Saint?
Silas inwardly thought it a pity, then reached into the safe and unceremoniously took out everything inside. The cash notes were of varying denominations, totaling over 3,000 pounds.
The property deeds were evenly distributed across several districts in Backlund. As for the jewelry, their value couldn't be estimated at the moment.
How shabby.
Silas couldn't help but think. Not even as wealthy as I am.
Not counting today's haul, the cash he previously possessed already exceeded this amount.
A quick calculation:
His reward for saving Miss Audrey at the hospital: over 400 pounds;
Selling the Sequence 8 "Sheriff" main ingredient: 540 pounds;
Bounty for hunting the Demon Hound: 1,000 pounds;
Reward for saving Princess Sophia of Feysac: 3,000 pounds... Plus Miss Audrey's employment, gratitude from gangs, and various other amounts, totaling over 5,000 pounds.
Adding today's gains, his total cash had already exceeded 8,000 pounds.
Even in prosperous and flourishing Backlund, this could be considered a huge sum!
However, even such a huge sum was insignificant compared to the value of high-sequence potions. According to the Queen's statement, just a Sequence 5 Beyonder characteristic alone could sell for 8,000 to 10,000 pounds, while Sequence 4 basically couldn't be measured with money.
First put purchasing on the agenda, then slowly search while digesting "Shepherd."
He thought to himself.
————
After this, Silas temporarily left that house, only leaving behind the attendants he controlled to maintain the facade that "everything is normal with the Aurora Order." In a few days, he would preside over the gathering in Mr. A's guise.
But before that, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Tomorrow was Monday. At three in the afternoon, that Fool would pull him above the gray fog to participate in the Tarot Club. He had to test in advance whether the method M provided was feasible.
Silas returned to his current residence—the safe house "enthusiastically" contributed by gang leader Charles. This was a terraced building located at the boundary between the East Borough and Chorwood District, slightly larger in scale than No. 6 Daffodil Street. And this being Backlund, the corresponding price would be even higher.
However, Silas no longer cared about the quality of the house. He merely pushed open the door indifferently, crossed the empty living room, and returned to his room.
"Come out."
At his summons, M's illusory figure quietly materialized.
"Starting now?"
She asked.
After receiving Silas's affirmative answer, M began her actions. She gently walked to Silas's front, embraced his head, and inserted her illusory hands into his skull.
"Mmm!"
Silas couldn't help but let out a muffled grunt, feeling his spirit trembling.