The Devil’s Cage

The sculpture looked normal, even a little crude at a second glance, like the work of a rookie who had just learned how to sculpt.

The sculpture looked like a person but the facial features were messy and the movements were not properly defined. The sculpture seemed to be wielding a sword, a two-handed sword.

The sword was thick and heavy, with some decorations on it that looked like fire and mist. The overall image was very crudely crafted, but Cymilaide couldn’t tell.

If it was just a crude looking sculpture, Cymilaide wouldn’t be this concerned, but Kieran told him the sculpture was from Mordin!

Mordin! A master sculptor to normal people but for those who knew a little bit more, this master sculptor was a very concerning person since the end of the papal era.

Cymilaide’s comment on her: very powerful!

Following the destruction of Armiarde Sect overnight, it further boosted Mordin’s power over the top, granting her a mysterious veil.

Powerful and mysterious, it was very attractive.

Based on what Cymilaide knew, since the Union formed, there was already a ‘Mordin Group’ in the works.

That particular group was unlike any other organization, because they specialized in investigating Mordin and anyone who came across that group would know how devoted they were to Mordin.

Cymilaide got to know the existence of his group during a mission and he slowly understood what the name Mordin meant and what it would lead to.

After that encounter, Cymilaide would also collect news on Mordin, officially during missions and privately during his free time.

However, Cymilaide was certain that among all the news he gathered, there wasn’t a mention about this crude looking sculpture.

‘An unfinished work? Or a replica?’

Cymilaide wondered.

He really wanted to have a closer look at the sculpture, it would be best if he could touch it with his own hands, but he dare not even mention his intention in front of Kieran.

He was afraid that after he voiced his intention, he couldn’t walk out of this room alive.

“I’m sorry, Sir 2567. I don’t know much about Master Mordin, I can’t tell whether or not this sculpture is part of her work,” Cymilaide answered honestly, not saying anything about it being a replica.

Who knew whether or not Kieran would be angry over it?

Cymilaide was always careful when his life was on the line.

“Is that so?” Kieran waved his hand and told Cymilaide to leave.

Cymilaide clearly saw the disappointment in Kieran’s face but he had no intention to linger, stepping out of the room and heading out like he was spared from a death sentence.

Although he had an investigation mission going on, Mordin’s sculpture was enough for him to report back to his superiors.

It was unnecessary to find out more beyond that.

Achieving 100 Points was too high for him, he sought after a mere pass on his mission.

Living cowardly until he retired was the way to go.

After leaving 17th Randletine Street in a hurry, Cymilaide returned to his hotel, wrote down what happened in his report and sent it off using his secret channels.

The report that he sent out went through a network of channels and ultimately ended up in the Senate.

Meanwhile, in a secret office in the Union Senate, three old men in distinguished attire and different looks sat around a triangle table, reading the documents in their hands.

“An unknown Mordin sculpture? It should be an unfinished work, right?” a bald old man said.

“It may be a replica too, a lot of people take pride in their imitation skills,” another old man with white hair and a beard answered.

“Since Mordin’s sculpture has come in to play, this is beyond us now, leave it to that special group. They are the professionals in this and we shall concentrate on 2567 alone.”

A rather bloated old man gave his conclusion on Mordin’s sculpture and then took out the document on Kieran, which Cymilaide handed in for the very first time.

“An excellent assassin! An Extraordinary individual with the ability to control a pocket dimension. And Printon! This Mr. 2567 is much more complicated than we expect!”

The bald old man laughed, showing his bleached white teeth, making him look like a hungry wolf that had eyes on its prey. When Printon was mentioned, his eyes even showed strong killer intentions.

“Don’t rush! We will deal with Printon sooner or later. The priority now is how to get more information on Printon from him.”

The bloated old man, obviously the leader of the three, said and it curbed the killer intentions of the bald old man.

“That’s right! The last contact we had in Priton was 10 years ago! Although we’ve sent endless waves of elites to investigate the place, every single one of them got lost when they infiltrated the city. Since then, that damned city became our forbidden land! We urgently need a man who knows the place well enough to tell us what’s happening there!” the white haired man nodded in agreement.

“I knew we shouldn’t have agreed to that first plan!” the bald old man thought of something and shook his head in frustration.

“Things happened. What we need to do now is to make up for the mistakes, not blame ourselves and feel sorry!” the leader said in a heavy voice.

“I’ll tell Cymilaide to get more information on Printon from that 2567, we can offer him a deal to achieve our goals! He seems to be very interested in Mordin’s sculpture, right? Does he know we have a lot of unfinished work of hers with us!”

The bloated old man seemed to have remembered something, curling up his lips into a smile.

The other two old men also understood what the smile meant, following him with a malicious smile.

No one liked to be clamped down by others, especially those who had already achieved a higher position.

They preferred others listen to them, not playing along with others.

If it was possible, these three old senators would not mind adding trouble to these particular people, just ask Mordin Group!

They didn’t need to do a lot, because based on what they understood, once Mordin Group made a move, they would surely go against Mr. 2567, a conflict bound to happen.

Regardless of who emerged a victor from the conflict, Mordin Group or Kieran, they would be the ultimate benefactor.

They had been preparing for this a long time, what they lacked was an excuse to make the move.

However, things always go against one’s will.

Inside Mordin Group’s special office, Ainfaust was in deep thoughts after he finished reading the message from the Senate.

As one of the senators, and the true overseer of this Mordin Group, Ainfaust was older than he looked.

Although he tried his best in sitting straight, time left irreversible marks on his body.

His muscles withered and strength was taken away by time, but in exchange, he gained wisdom.

Ainfaust knew what those three geezers wanted to do.

They have been rivals for a few decades now, Ainfaust knowing the three of them better than himself, to the point that he knew what they wanted to say with a slight movement of their lips.

Like this time, the three geezers hoped that Ainfaust would go into conflict with 2567, so they could reap benefits without participating.

As for the Mordin’s sculpture that the message had mentioned?

Ainfaust was certain that the three of them didn’t even bother to understand it carefully.

Otherwise such a message wouldn’t have reached him this soon.

“Greatsword, flame”, Ainfaust muttered the two terms softly.

As the true overseer of Mordin Group, he knew better than anyone what those two terms meant for Mordin and what they represented.

Although he wasn’t sure whether or not it was a trap, since he knew 2567 had grasped on to his secret news, it would be enough for him to send his men to Alkender.

He had to find out whether 2567 knew more than this or not.

When the thought came, Ainfaust picked up the phone, contacting his men.

The phone was hung up a while later, going into deep thoughts before he headed to the secret room beside his office.

The book rack opened up left and right. A passageway leading underground appeared.

Ainfaust walked down the stairs like it was his backyard and arrived in a small room.

There was only a table in the room.

On top of the table was a perfectly drawn pentagon star and in the middle was a little skull with horns on its crown.

Ainfaust lit up the candle on each edge of the pentagon.

Low incantations then filled the room.

“Hey, Ainfaust.”

A sharp voice came from the horned skill.

“According to our contract, you all still owe me a favor,” Ainfaust said.

“Of course! You want us to deal with those three old geezers right? When?” the sharp voice asked straightforwardly.

“As soon as possible!” Ainfaust replied.

“Leave it to us, but don’t forget what you promised us!” the sharp voice reminded him.

“I won’t, I’m good at keeping my promises!”

After the conversation was over, Ainfaust smiled coldly.

Keeping the promise?

He was putting on a show all the time. Who’d believe him, who would be an idiot, regardless of human or not.

…

After Cymilaide left, Kieran kept the sculpture into the first drawer on his left.

Ferris sculpted this particular sculpture, it was less than an entry level work but it has completed its mission.

As for the rest?

The bait was thrown out, all Kieran had to do was wait.

Was he worried about someone discovering his little trick?

He wasn’t. He knew everything would work accordingly once this Mordin-esque bait was thrown out.

He may face some hurdles but it was within his control.

When the thought came into his mind, Kieran stood up from the chair, stretched his body and walked to the living room. Cymilaide was as cowardly as a rat but his eyes were quite sharp.

At least the food, or the offering, he brought was something decent, meticulously picked.

Even though Kieran had tried them all, he wouldn’t mind trying them all again.

He would always indulge himself in delicious food and it was pure joy.

There were fish balls containing crab roe. The fish used was tender and the crab roe was rich, when it was chewed on, the crab roe would burst in his mouth, providing him with utmost pleasure.

The soup looked normal, but it was a stock boiled three times, clear and tasty.

A mouth of fishball followed by a spoon of soup, Kieran squinted his eyes.

After the last drop of soup was drained, Kieran turned his attention to that large lamb shank.

The whole lamb shank remained as it was when it was cut off, no extra cuts, no thinning, the original flavour remained for it was grilled with only a layer of onion.

Kieran didn’t pick up the lamb shank first, he went for the onions first.

After onions were cooked, the spiciness was replaced by sweetness, very little remained and it was shallow enough to not irritate the flavour while providing an extra juicy bite.

The onion’s flavour expanded in his mouth before he picked up the lamb shank for a big bite, he even sucked the juices and fatty oil, leaving his mouth with an aromatic oiliness.

The whole lamb shank, including the soft bones, were chewed into nothing quickly.

He then looked towards the small and intricate pastries.

The pastries were in the form of a lotus flower, the green base garnished by white powder on top. It wasn’t butter but cheese, mint was added as well.

It perfectly expelled the heaviness and oiliness of the mutton, it also increased his appetite further. Kieran grabbed all three of the pastries and tossed them into his mouth, finishing the whole box in a few bites.

“Ferris, a cup of tea please,” Kieran said.

“Yes, my lord,” Ferris bowed and walked into the kitchen and when he was back with a cup of tea, the door was knocked upon.

“It’s the Kat Lady, my lord. Do you want to see her?” Goran’s voice came through the loudspeaker in the house.

“Em,” Kieran nodded.

Both of them were still on fair ground and Kieran believed Selina wouldn’t knock on his door unless absolutely necessary.

Knock, Knock, Knock!

Selina knocked on the door carefully, the bad memories coming afloat in her mind when she got near to this house but the good memories, which she took pleasure in, accompanied the bad ones too.

The food!

Whenever she thought of the meal she had at Kieran’s, her saliva would secret uncontrollably.

Because of that, she took the initiative and accepted this task, in hopes of getting a free lunch like a freeloader.

It seemed like her choice was wisely made!

The aroma of food!

Water boiled fish balls from Lao’s!

Grilled lamb shank from the Grilling Cave!

LeLinda’s cheesecake!

Every dish was her favourite, especially when mixed together, all the tastes would complement each other, elevating each other to new heights.

The thought of enjoying her favourite dishes made her twist her neck in excitement, instinctively wanting to find something to push her head against.

Selina spent a lot of effort in suppressing the urge to do so.

“Lady! Meow is a lady! Meow must act like a lady!”

She told herself that and when Ferris opened the door, she said loudly, “I’m here for 2567!”

Selina then dashed into the house, estless.

She wanted fishballs, lambshank and cheesecake!

But what she saw were empty packaging boxes.

She was stunned.

“You finished it meow?” Selina asked in a blank voice.

“Yeah, the presents seemed decent, so I had a taste. They are really good,” Kieran nodded.

“Really good? Hmph! Man, you are meow’s arch nemesis from now on!”

Selina coldly grunted, tossing the invitation on top of the tea table and leaving in a grumpy mood.

Emma Eddie just got out of her room, saw Selina leaving and asked instinctively, “Ferris is preparing dinner, why don’t you stay for a meal?”

Selina’s steps froze, her stiff neck turned around.

“There is still dinner?”

“Yeah, Ferris cooks everyday, punctually,” Emma Eddie replied.

Selina did not turn around, she walked backwards to Kieran and showed a sweet smile.

“Meow is hallucinating just now! You are meow’s best friend!”

Selina instinctively wanted to push her head against Kieran but was dodged.

Hmph, woman.

Kieran ignored her, picked up the invitation on the tea table, opened it and when he saw the contents, his brows furrowed together.