Chapter 54: Chapter 50: Glimpse of the Mysterious Crystal

In the spacious office, everything had been cleared out, leaving only two sofas and a coffee table.

Across from Baron sat Howard and Stella. On the table before him was a steaming cup of black tea and a prepared contract.

Stella handed Baron a pen—the same Montblanc she had bought back for one hundred pounds.

Baron took the pen and, without hesitation, wrote his name.

He had read the contract’s contents ten times over. There were no traps, no hidden wordplay.

It was just an ordinary internship contract.

Baron scratched his forehead, feeling like he must have misread something. But there it was on the contract, in bold, black and white: "Westminster People’s Bank Intern Commissioner Onboarding Agreement."

He glanced at Stella, who maintained her professional smile. Then he looked at Howard. The esteemed vice-president was on the phone, dealing with the mess Baron had made in Moscow.

Apparently, the Moscow vault had suffered a considerable loss, and the local branch manager was furious. Howard, however, was on the phone, declaring self-righteously:

"Don’t you worry, old friend. Someone dared to rob us on Westminster’s own turf. We’ll find that bastard sooner or later."

’Looks like the vice-president plans to pocket the gold ingots for himself. A true gold-supremacist, isn’t he?’ Baron grumbled inwardly.

"It’s all the fault of that damn capitalism!"

Howard cursed into the phone, then hung up. He took the black tea his secretary offered, took a sip, and looked at Baron.

"Curious why I gave you an internship contract?"

Baron nodded.

The vice-president said, "With your current status, if Westminster were to hire you directly, it would be like picking a fight with the entire Inner Side of the United Kingdom. An internship contract, however, avoids an internal announcement, so we don’t have to worry about word getting out."

’So even Westminster can’t protect me?’ Baron was deeply disappointed.

The vice-president saw the look on Baron’s face and had a good idea of what he was thinking. He said:

"These are the president’s exact words. He said that only after you’ve dealt with the messes clinging to you can Westminster make you a permanent employee within a reasonable scope."

"You have too many enemies. If Westminster were to protect you, the price we’d pay might not be proportional to the value you could bring."

Stella said, "Mr. Constantine, we evaluated your risk profile and decided to grant you the status of an intern commissioner only after much discussion."

’Wait a minute. I was hoping to find a powerful backer for an easy life, but it turns out this ’big tree’ expects me to go deal with the sun itself.’

Baron instantly lost all interest. All he wanted to do was run for it.

Howard said calmly, "You can’t afford the penalty for breaking the contract."

Baron said, "I didn’t sign my real name."

Stella glanced at the contract on the table and saw Jack’s full name.

"But I will threaten you," Howard said. "For instance, I could mention you’re here at Westminster Cathedral. Or I could call those Law Enforcement Organizations hunting you and tell them you’re not dead, that you’re still alive and kicking."

’Very much in line with Westminster’s style.’

Baron fell silent for a moment, then said, "Since President Davis interviewed me, he must know what kind of person I am. If there’s nothing in it for me, why would I possibly join Westminster?"

Howard chuckled. "That’s precisely what I admire about you. Someone who puts their own interests first is the most suitable kind of Westminster Commissioner."

He added meaningfully, "Being an intern commissioner actually means you have a lot of options. If a company causes a major stir in society, the final consequences are often borne by a mysterious ’intern commissioner.’"

It dawned on Baron. ’So the whole point of an intern commissioner is to have a convenient scapegoat.’

’In that case, if the manager of the Moscow Bank had traced this back to me, the vice-president would probably have used the excuse that ’it was the improper action of a temporary employee’ or ’the intern commissioner has already been fired’ to gobble up those gold ingots.’

Baron couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. The way he looked at Howard changed completely.

’This old man is definitely not a good person!’

In the end, he signed his name.

"Then, Mr. Baron Constantin, on behalf of the Westminster People’s Bank of Europe Headquarters, I hereby extend an offer of employment. As of today, you are a Containment Commissioner for the Westminster People’s Bank, European District."

Stella announced in a cool, detached voice, "As you are an intern commissioner and the president has not yet assigned your final rating, you will only enjoy the temporary benefits of a Westminster Containment Commissioner."

She tapped her wristwatch, its quartz crystal face rippling like water.

Baron’s gaze sharpened. The watch was similar to his Gentiana Pattern Ring—it was a Contained Object!

Stella pulled an exquisitely decorated mahogany box from her watch. She placed it on the table and opened it, revealing two transparent, contact lens-like objects inside.

"The Glimpse of the Mysterious Crystal, a C Level Taboo Object specially equipped for Westminster’s Containment Commissioners. It’s been fashioned into contact lenses for ease of wear."

"Its function is to let you see part of the truth of a Taboo Item you touch, at the cost of your Spiritual Power. The higher your Tier, the more of the truth you will perceive."

Howard said, "Take the Chain of the Imitator at your waist, for example. By touching it, I was able to learn some of its past and a portion of its Authority... Excluding the price, of course. That falls under Taboo, not mystery."

"And after you put them in, they also have functions for auto-adjusting for near- and farsightedness, and treating trachoma, dry eye, and cataracts..." he said. "The Alchemists from the China branch came up with this. You know, the Chinese are all geniuses."

He pushed the wooden box in front of Baron.

’Glimpse of the Mysterious Crystal, see the truth of a Taboo Item. So that’s how Jack saw right through my disguise from the Imitator’s chain earlier.’

Without hesitation, Baron put on the two Mysterious Crystals.

He touched the silver chain at his waist, and as his gaze fell upon it, a layer of text appeared in his vision.

[Chain of the Imitator: A chain forged for a death row inmate. It was used to hang the imitator Louis. After his death, the chain was stained by the mysterious and became a Taboo.]

He touched the Gentiana Pattern Ring... No reaction.

Stella explained, "The Glimpse of the Mysterious Crystal can only be used to glimpse Taboo Items that have been stained by the mysterious. It has no effect on ordinary alchemy items."

’Stained by the mysterious to become a Taboo Item. It seems this ’mysterious’ is also a type of Law, and from the looks of it, perhaps even the First Law.’

Baron thought that he didn’t know if this trip to Westminster Cathedral was a good or bad thing, but at the very least, he had profited from it.

There was still a gold ingot he hadn’t had time to hand over (and had pocketed for himself) lying in his Gentiana Pattern Ring. In truth, the Moscow branch just had to check their books to know how many ingots were missing. But since Howard was planning to swallow the loss, what reason did Baron, as one of Howard’s men, have not to do the same?

Still, he felt a little regretful.

The Illusory Cocoon, in the end, did not belong to him. Imagine if he could run around with that Taboo Item—what Law Enforcer would he have to fear? Baron could have just been a shut-in for the rest of his life.

’But...’ A thought suddenly surfaced in Baron’s mind. ’All Taboo Items have a price for their use. So what is the price of the Illusory Cocoon?’

Meanwhile, in the Logistics Department, the broker Jack was settling the accounts for his betting pool. After excluding the two anonymous bettors who gambled on S Level (in reality, Jack knew exactly who they were), adding in the proceeds from selling two stories to the Westminster Times, and subtracting the wages for the operators, he had netted nearly 60 ounces of Gold.

This was equivalent to his income from working year-round without rest, food, or drink, plus finding 50 ounces of Gold on the street—which just went to show that D Level Commissioners had no rights.

Just as Jack was contemplating whether his next vacation would be to the Maldives, Hawaii, or perhaps Sicily, Italy...

The landline on his desk rang. Jack assumed it was that aloof S Level Commissioner and had just started to say obsequiously that he had already sent the winnings to their account when he heard a familiar, ice-cold female voice.

Stella said coldly from the other end of the line:

"I bet on S Level. Send the total winnings, 59 ounces, to the account in Switzerland..."

Fifty-nine ounces!?

Jack’s face went white. He had only earned 60 ounces of Gold in total. This was going to cost him more than half his life!

He’d almost forgotten there were three bettors who picked S Level, but he never would have imagined that the last one was Secretary Stella!

How could he not have thought of it? The vice-president bet on S Level, so why wouldn’t Stella, the president’s secretary, also bet on S Level?

’They’re in it together!’

Jack was suffering the consequences of his inexperience in running a betting operation.

But before he could even react, Stella continued on the other end of the line:

"Come to the office in a bit. The new recruit’s first mission requires your assistance. If you do a good job, the vice-president said he will apply to the president for your promotion to C Level."

Then, without giving Jack any time to reply, she hung up.

Back in the office, Stella hung up the phone and looked at Baron. "Next, you’ll need an identity to register for a temporary commissioner’s Black Card. Have you thought of a name?"

"L. Just call me L," Baron said.

’Westminster Containment Commissioner L, though... doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as Demon Hunter L.’

...

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