Chapter Thirty: Commissioner Comyneson and the Reformer (Part Two)

The special agent shook his head helplessly. When he arrived here, he had already made a judgment based on Leonardo’s intelligence, knowing that extraordinary figures like Wei Wujie were often solitary and unconventional. Yet he hadn’t expected the other to be so carefree; originally, he intended to exchange information about their backgrounds, but during their contest, the overwhelming force from Wei Wujie left him no chance to speak. Rubbing his somewhat sore hand, he hurriedly pursued Wei Wujie.

Wei Wujie dashed forward, and as he ran, a misty vapor appeared on his face, gradually enveloping his entire body. His appearance was constantly, though subtly, transforming—perhaps in the next blink, his eyebrows would change in thickness, or a patch of skin would shift from black to gold. By the time the special agent caught up, Wei Wujie’s look—from his features to his skin and hair—had become remarkably similar to the people of this continent. This time, he used the “Seventy-Two Transformations” technique even more thoroughly than before; previously, he had only changed his face, but now, to infiltrate Gaul City and approach the prison, he infused a vast amount of true energy to alter himself completely. Maintaining such a comprehensive transformation required energy several times greater than what he had spent in the lecture hall.

Running alongside Wei Wujie, the special agent witnessed all this without showing the slightest surprise. And Wei Wujie was not at all astonished that the agent had caught up with him. After their earlier contest, he recognized the agent as a formidable opponent on his own level. Although the agent’s cultivation was not the Golden Pill Path, its power was in no way inferior, and his training was both internal and external, with not a trace of excess in his physique and blood coursing like a dragon. In their mutual probing, the agent’s explosive strength had even surpassed Wei Wujie’s Xuanwu Divine Might, rivaling the Grand Commander Pompey whom he had met at sea. Yet Pompey relied solely on innate talent, unable to wield his power as fully and enduringly as Wei Wujie or the special agent, who could channel secret arts and divine abilities.

Even Wei Wujie was curious about what secret technique or divine art this special agent had cultivated, whose power seemed to faintly surpass his own Xuanwu Divine Might.

The raven found Helen just as she was speaking to a rather shy-looking young man. Had Wei Wujie been present, he would have immediately recognized this young man as Amango, his new friend on this continent and someone who had done him a favor.

At this moment, Amango was dressed in the uniform of a reservist soldier, having just left the National Guard registration office, where Helen had spotted him. Helen pressed him for news of Wei Wujie’s whereabouts, but Amango, fearing that divulging information would bring trouble to Wei Wujie and the Sessily family, hesitated and refused to speak the truth. Yet, as always, he was easily flustered; his face turned red, and he hadn’t even managed to concoct a proper lie. Luckily, the mermaid princess was rather scatterbrained herself and suspected nothing; she simply fretted on her own, thinking that if even Amango didn’t know where Wei Wujie was, she would have to stay with the cold-faced man who claimed to be Wei Wujie’s friend. Privately, she referred to the raven—who always wore a black mask and kept a stern face—as the “cold-faced man.”

“This is a friend Wei met on the ship,” Helen introduced the raven and Amango to each other. The weary little princess stifled a yawn.

“Hello,” Amango said, recalling that Wei Wujie had mentioned the raven while on the ship.

“Why are you dressed like this? Are you planning to join the army?” Helen finally noticed Amango’s attire.

Amango nodded. “Yes, the government has issued a notice to the citizens, recruiting reservists in advance. Everyone is being assigned to the National Guard for training, including military drills, basic formation training, wilderness survival, shooting practice, and even lessons from sorceresses from the Southern Women’s Magic Academy on basic ignition spells and magical meditation.”

“Is this a sign of war?” The raven wondered. Mr. Spielberg had gone to great lengths to hire him for the protection of Prime Minister Landia, surely for a reason. Yet the raven himself also had motives for being here; although he appeared careless, in reality he kept a close eye on the person he was protecting, those associated with him, and even the actions of the rival Church.

“I don’t know,” Amango replied honestly, then added, “But if war does break out, I intend to defend this country. Many of the young people who enlisted feel the same way. They like and trust Prime Minister Warren Hait, having witnessed the Church’s arrogance and bullying firsthand. As Mr. Mark, who’s been giving speeches everywhere lately, says—the Church needs reform, not interference here.”

“Is that the gentleman?” Mentioning Martin, the raven felt his head swell three sizes. That guy was truly troublesome, so openly confronting the Church. Were it not for Warren Hait’s covert support and the raven’s own protection, Martin would have died at least three times already—twice by accident, when the Church merely wanted him silenced, not dead. Yet Martin, oblivious, perhaps believed his righteous voice had cowed the Church, and tirelessly rushed about giving speeches attacking them.

The raven was about to ask Amango more about Wei Wujie when he suddenly sensed something amiss. The magical alarm he had set up in the distance had been destroyed; it was a second-level spell he’d cast earlier, leaving Martin behind to seek Helen. Its purpose was to automatically break if someone approached Martin’s area with enough force, and if the raven was within half a kilometer, he would immediately sense it. There was a time limit—the spell would lose effectiveness once the magical energy was exhausted. Alchemists, of course, could craft similar devices powered by magic crystals for longer periods.

It seemed someone was attacking Martin. The raven dared not linger. He shouted, “Someone’s attacking Martin!” and leaped onto the wall, racing towards Martin’s location.

The mermaid princess cursed. Though she had no obligation to protect Martin, in these past few days working with the raven, she had developed a sense of responsibility. She quickly bade Amango farewell, obtained his contact information, and dashed off after the raven.

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