Chapter 50: Chapter 46: Betrayal and Cheating
3:31 PM, November 20, 1987. One minute had passed since xx:xx PM on November 20, 1987.
Though he wasn’t sure what had happened, Baron had indeed survived the Time Death Judgment.
The Dragon Knight pricked his fingertip with his knife. Blood welled up. It hurt a little. This wasn’t a dream.
His thoughts were a jumble, a mix of faint joy and utter confusion.
’Did I just... evade the Time Death Judgment like that?’
He stared blankly at the Dwarf Master. Bagins snorted and said, "Count your lucky stars, kid. You’ve escaped the punishment of Time."
"Escaped?" Baron was still baffled. "How did I escape the Time Death Judgment?"
’It was a thought that probably deserved a smack, but... did it really pass just like that? Without any dazzling special effects? Like a halo appearing over my head... oh wait, that means you’re dead.’
Jack patted his shoulder, quick on the uptake as he explained, "The old man... er, the great Dwarf Alchemy Master Bagins, used a Magic Potion refined from Time Grass to let you deceive Time.
Now, the string of numbers from the Time Death Judgment has become incomprehensible to you. For example, the time represented by the numbers ’3:30 PM, November 20, xxxx’ is now something you can no longer comprehend."
He continued, "A time you can’t comprehend is meaningless to you. You’ll never know how many minutes or seconds have passed since that moment. It sounds a bit cruel, but you’ve been abandoned by that sliver of time."
"Cruel? What’s cruel about it?" Baron retorted. "It means I’ll always have a moment of freedom that others don’t."
He rose and once again donned the greatcoat that provided Blocking, concealing his features. He said to Jack, "Next, we’ll head to the Outer Side as you suggested. I still have some suspicions about Anthony’s cause of death that I want to investigate. I refuse to spend the rest of my life as a fugitive."
Bagins said, "Leaving just like that?"
Baron hurriedly bowed. "Thank you, Master Bagins..."
Bagins said coldly, "What damn good is your gratitude to me? Settle the bill for the labor, materials, and my emotional distress for making that Magic Potion. And I reset your Alchemy Bullets. The total cost is eighty-five pounds. But since we’re friends, I’ll charge you an even 100."
"There’s something wrong with that ’friendship price,’ isn’t there?"
"Shouldn’t you support a friend’s business?" Bagins said. "Don Quixote, bring me a cup of black tea, if you please..."
The Dwarf Master took the black tea from Jack, took a sip, and nodded. "You blond bastard, you’re pretty sharp... Why am I so sleepy... A sedative? You bastard..."
Watching the Dwarf Master passed out and snoring on the sofa, Baron was stunned. Don Quixote, who had just brought the tea, looked stunned as well.
Only Jack simply shrugged and spread his hands. "To use an old saying from China, this is what you call ’giving him a taste of his own medicine.’"
Then, he eagerly pushed Baron forward.
"Let’s go, Constantine Brothers! Like you said before, our destination is... is... ah, whatever. It was some kind of sea, anyway."
...
「Outer London, the north bank of the Thames River.」
A thick fog gradually enveloped the riverbank. A Griffin slowly descended onto the water’s surface. A moment later, a small boat emerged from the fog and stopped at the bank. The two men jumped out and departed.
They moved furtively onto the street and found an empty public phone booth. Jack went inside to make a call while Baron stood watch, scanning the surroundings for anyone suspicious.
When Jack came out of the phone booth.
"Don’t move."
Baron blocked the phone booth’s doorway, the muzzle of his gun pressed against the handsome, thick-browed Jack. He lowered his voice, his tone harsh:
"You lied to me. That boatman wasn’t a ferryman at all. His hands didn’t have the calluses from years of rowing. And even though a lifebuoy was blocking my view of his feet, I could still tell he was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton leather shoes."
He said coldly, "No ferryman would wear such expensive shoes. Ever since we left the Inner Side, you’ve been subtly taking control. What are you up to?"
The cylinder of his revolver spun. The Dragon Knight’s Golden Eye gleamed. "I hate traitors more than anything."
Jack sighed, raised his hands, and spoke to the phone inside the booth. "Alright, stop hiding. He’s already figured it out. Get it over with. I don’t want to be burned to death by Dragon Flame."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the hairs on Baron’s arms stood on end. He was about to run, but before he could, his legs went soft and he collapsed to the ground.
As his eyes grew heavy and began to close, he saw someone walking slowly toward him from outside the phone booth. Louis Vuitton shoes. It was the boatman.
Jack’s whiny protest reached his ears: "Deputy Director, if you hadn’t shown up, I really thought this guy was going to burn me to a crisp with his Dragon Flame! You have no idea how intense the pressure from his Golden Eye is. I nearly pissed myself!"
"You’ll get a month’s worth of credit points for this when you get back."
"Isn’t one month of points a little low? This is a Dragon Knight we’re talking about! The Prole Court, the Holy Cross Association, the Templar Order, and the Demon Hunter Association are all after him! He’s the world’s only Dragon Knight since the Dragon Family!"
"Has his Time Death Judgment been resolved?"
"It has. An old Dwarf named Bagins took care of it. But it seems Constantine was the one who found the crucial ingredient..."
Without looking, Baron knew Jack was winking suggestively. "A Dragon Knight, completely intact... Deputy Director, what I mean is..."
"If he passes the recruitment test, you’ll get two months’ worth of credit points," the Deputy Director said.
"But there are different levels for new recruits."
"You have that much confidence in the kid?"
"He is a Dragon Knight, after all... Deputy Director, believe it or not, his mind is still clear right now. He’s eavesdropping on our conversation, looking for a chance to escape."
Baron, who was pretending to be unconscious: "..."
"That dose of knockout gas was enough to sedate a humpback whale, and he’s still fine?" The Deputy Director was clearly shocked. He then waved his hand. "Increase the dose."
"You got it!"
Then, Baron felt Jack crouch down in front of him. A moist breeze blew across his face, and a deeper wave of drowsiness washed over him.
He faintly heard the Deputy Director’s voice: "And stop calling me Deputy Director. When the Director isn’t around, just call me Director!"
"Yes, Director Howard Davis!"
"Excellent. D Level Commissioner Jack, when you get back, I’ll consider letting you apply for C Level."
...
The hazy feeling of light on his face was like a white mist.
Baron opened his eyes to find himself in a huge office, sitting on a soft leather sofa. Across from a desk, an old man with a kind and benevolent face was watching him.
He was wearing an expensive, custom-tailored suit of a brand Baron couldn’t name. The suit was pressed without a single wrinkle.
From his thick white hair and a face etched with the wrinkles of time yet still full of vitality, it wasn’t hard to see the man’s former debonair charm...
Baron found it hard to imagine that the words ’thick’ and ’full of vitality’ could be used to describe such an old-looking man.
His gaze shifted downward. Louis Vuitton shoes... It was the ferryman from before, the Gypsy captain. Perhaps this was his true appearance.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am the head of the Westminster People’s Bank’s European Region, Deputy Director Howard Davis."
Seeing him awake, the old man was thoughtful enough to hand him a cup of black tea. "Jack recommended you to join Westminster. I am your interviewer and proctor for this recruitment."
’Recruitment interview? I don’t remember saying I wanted to work for Westminster, did I?’
Before Baron could ask, Howard clapped his hands. The curtains on all sides were drawn shut, blocking out the light. A chandelier overhead lit up, and an icy chill blew in from all directions, making one’s skin crawl.
The office instantly transformed into an interrogation room.
Howard coughed. "Secretary Stella, could you please turn the AC to heat? My rheumatism is acting up."
The chill turned to warmth, dispelling the original unease and cold.
A female secretary with wheat-toned skin walked over gracefully. She wore a high-end linen suit, and with her tall figure, long legs, and striking, gorgeous features, she looked to be of mixed heritage.
Noticing Baron looking at her, Stella offered him a dazzling smile.
It was the kind of smile that screamed: ’I’m rich, and in a minute, I’m going to be racing against the clock to make more money. If you, you little nobody, drag this interview out, I will personally chop you into mincemeat, sell you to Africa to aid the suffering, and use the proceeds to start a business with the local government building a ski resort there.’
Baron was momentarily stunned by this aura of extravagant Wall Street elitism. Just then, a cheeky voice whispered in his ear:
"Constantine Brothers, activate your Golden Eye! You absolutely cannot lose to this miser Stella in terms of presence!"
Before Baron could react, Jack spoke again:
"I put a micro wireless earpiece developed by the logistics department in your ear. For the upcoming recruitment test, the thirty-plus guys from logistics who bet on you to pass will be your off-site assistance, here to help you."
’Recruitment test? Bet on me to pass? Off-site assistance?’
A dozen retorts popped into Baron’s mind at once, but he didn’t know which one to start with.
However, his anxious heart slowly began to settle. At least, from what he’d seen so far, Westminster didn’t seem to hold the same malice toward him as the Law Enforcement Organization did.
Otherwise, Jack wouldn’t be helping him cheat his way in... ’Cheating.’ Baron let out a breath. ’Now that’s a reassuring word.’
Who would have thought that the female secretary would suddenly lean down toward Baron? A very, very faint fragrance of incense tickled his nose. She leaned close to his ear, her voice pleasant:
"It seems the logistics department’s finances are in good shape this month. They even have spare cash to invent little gadgets like this..."
"Crap, she found out... Anyway, you’re on your own, brother. Remember, Gold is everything!"
That was Jack’s last shout over the radio. Then, the wireless earpiece dislodged from his ear canal, its self-destruct sequence activated, and a small spark briefly flared up on Baron’s shoulder.
Confirming that the meddler was gone, Howard finally looked at Baron and, with a smile, posed the first question:
"Mr. Baron Constantin, how do you view the role of money in life?"
