The Blood Church of Fude City.

Little Nun Olivia had already reported for duty to the church Priest. After receiving her new habit, she followed an older Nun’s directions to the nearby office to collect her Church stipend.

She planned to use the money to compensate Mr. L for the damages she had caused, and also to thank him for all his help.

When she arrived at the office, she found the supervisor in charge of finances. He was a pot-bellied, middle-aged man with a round face and narrow eyes. He wore a checkered robe of fine material that was clearly high-quality silk.

The supervisor’s eyes lit up when he saw the Little Nun. The small mustache on his upper lip twitched, and his beady little eyes darted about.

He was like a black bear that had spotted its prey but feigned indifference.

After the Little Nun explained the reason for her visit, his eyes lit up again. He tilted his head back slightly, revealing a triple chin, and said in a tone that was both arrogant and coaxing, "Just a moment."

He then made a show of rummaging through the office ledgers, asking nonchalantly as he searched, "Do you need to use this stipend urgently?"

The Little Nun nodded.

"Let’s see... you have no other family? I see the records say you entered the Blood Church in Mundra Town when you were eight... Now, because of the Blood Demon incident, that church is being rebuilt, so you were recalled to Fude City..."

The Little Nun bit her lip, as if lost in a memory, but ultimately nodded.

After receiving the Little Nun’s confirmation, the supervisor twirled his mustache and said, "Sister Olivia, I’m terribly sorry, but it looks like your stipend may be delayed for a few months."

"Why?" The Little Nun was confused. According to the other Nun, she was supposed to be able to collect her Church stipend as soon as she came to the office.

The supervisor glanced at the register. "You said you’re collecting your Church stipend to repay a debt?"

The Little Nun nodded.

"Then that’s the reason," the supervisor said. "Clergy are not permitted to be in debt. In such cases, a fine must be levied."

"How much is the fine?"

A triumphant smile spread across the supervisor’s face. "Half."

"Why?"

The Little Nun panicked. She knew the Blood Holy Scripture by heart, but she had never heard of such a rule for collecting a Church stipend.

The supervisor said with a straight face, "Your application not only mentions repaying a debt, but also states a desire to house a Wandering Knight at the Blood Church... Of course, giving generously is also God’s doctrine."

"He’s willing to pay for his stay."

The supervisor smiled faintly. "Then perhaps he can cover your fine?"

The Little Nun grew frantic. This was all the Church stipend she had. Besides needing it to survive in Fude City, she had also planned to use some of it for charity.

Seeing her distress, the supervisor changed his tune. "However, I could personally file to have this penalty waived. It’s just that..."

"Just what?"

The supervisor suddenly stepped out from behind the counter. He placed a large hand on the Little Nun’s tiny shoulder, his eyes, nearly swallowed by fat, glinting with a faint, eerie green light. "I’ll require a little... cooperation."

Before the Little Nun could react, his large hand covered her face. Wisps of fine dust sifted through his fingers, and she passed out.

The supervisor smirked. Seeing that no one was around, he hoisted Olivia onto his shoulder and carried her into a room within the office used for his personal "work."

He opened the door and placed Olivia on the bed. But as soon as he flicked on the light and began to undress, the supervisor sensed something was wrong. He whipped his head around to look.

Three men were sitting on a chaise lounge in the corner of the bedroom:

A Demon Hunter with a long scar across his face, holding a flask. Seeing the supervisor look over, he took a long drink. GLUG GLUG GLUG.

It was the smell of alcohol that had tipped the supervisor off.

Another was a young man with a boyish face, but his eyes blazed with anger, glaring at the supervisor like a young lion ready to tear into its prey.

The last was a Knight in tattered armor, his face obscured by a long, dark-red scarf.

His features were hidden, but judging by the skin on the side of his face, he was the oldest and most unkempt of the three.

The supervisor discreetly felt for the Magic Staff hidden in his sleeve, while his other hand tried to pull a Magic Card from a pocket on the back of his robe... tried to pull... the Magic Card...

The supervisor was sweating buckets. He was so fat and his arms were so short that his hand couldn’t even reach his own rear end!

But chanting a spell right now would certainly draw the attention of the three men.

In such a confined space, a Wizard cornered by melee fighters was in deep trouble. Unless he was one of the rumored battle-wizards from the Storm Sect, he was about to demonstrate the old saying: a god at a distance, a chicken up close.

"Heh, gentlemen, it’s not Foggy Day yet. Why are you out on patrol so early..."

The supervisor wiped at the sheen on his fat face, uncertain if it was oil or sweat.

"I just happened to find an unconscious Nun on the road. I was just putting her to bed so she could rest..."

Seeing that the three men remained still, the supervisor grew bolder. Under the cover of his robes, his fat hand fumbled behind his back and finally found what he was desperately searching for: the doorknob.

"As you know," the fat supervisor said, "I am a devout member of the Clergy. Drugging a Nun of her age... I could never do such a thing! I would never even *want* to!"

He twisted the doorknob, and a triumphant smirk finally broke out on his fat face.

’At the same time, he was already concocting the charges he would level against these three "trespassers."’

The door swung inward. A sliver of light from the setting sun pierced through the gap, illuminating the side of the fat supervisor’s agitated face.

A greedy joy surfaced in his beady little eyes as they caught the direct sunlight.

It wasn’t just because he had opened the door; he could see someone approaching from the main office area!

He opened his mouth to shout at the newcomer, "Help! There’s a Demon Hunter and a Knight here trying to assault a member of the Clergy! Quick, save—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, the supervisor saw a fist the size of a sandbag stir the sunlight and slam viciously into his face.

Blood vessels in his nasal cavity ruptured, and blood gushed from his nose. Three or four of his teeth, already loosened from years of drinking high-end wine, were knocked clean out of his mouth.

They clattered to the floor like short, rusty nails pried out by a laborer.

"You... you dare attack a member of the Clergy... You’re done for... The Blood God will curse you... The authorities will issue a warrant for your arrest..."

The supervisor sat on the ground, his head spinning. His vision swam from the sudden blow, and blinded by the sunlight, he couldn’t make out his attacker’s face at all.

"Pudeliang Bache’Er..."

Like a startled animal, he raised his Magic Staff toward the silhouette in the sunlight and began a hasty incantation.

A palpable energy began to coalesce at the tip of the Magic Staff as he chanted, and the faint glow it emitted made even Maguire’s brows furrow in concern.

The Demon Hunter’s instincts told him that whatever Magic the fat supervisor was about to unleash was far beyond his ability to handle.

He was just about to shout a warning to dodge.

But then he saw the silhouette in the doorway lean down, snap the Magic Staff in the fat supervisor’s hands, and kick him unconscious.

It was yet another confirmation of the eternal truth: a god at a distance, a chicken up close.

Baron Constantin saw that the fat supervisor was out cold. He scanned the room and asked, "What happened here?"

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