In the afternoon, Bertram’s lawyer arrived at 13 Milford Street and drafted an agreement, which Bertram and Siles each signed.
The content of this profit transfer agreement was more specific and clear. This profit right was originally given to Bertram by other merchants and was now transferred by Bertram to Siles.
Siles noticed the name of the food company: Grayson.
He paused, feeling the name was somewhat familiar. Then he remembered—wasn’t this the name of the newly opened butcher shop at Logan Market? A few days ago when he went to Logan Market, Grayson Butcher Shop’s meat prices were so low they caused a minor dispute.
So that butcher shop was also under this company?
Siles felt a sense of coincidental convergence. Without thinking much more, he signed the agreement.
The future returns from this cooperation were still unknown, but Siles felt he could now be considered someone with modest assets, and couldn’t help feeling mildly excited.
After signing the agreement, Bertram personally returned the rent money Siles had paid earlier.
He also said, “If you have time in the future or need accommodation, you’re welcome anytime.”
Siles thanked him, then, thinking about “accommodation,” couldn’t help but smile bitterly inwardly.
He never would have imagined that after he left 13 Milford Street, the person who would move into that easternmost room on the second floor would be a doctor—and very likely the doctor who would attract the apostate in the future.
If the dice in his mind didn’t roll, Siles could still comfort himself that it might just be a coincidence. But the dice happened to roll when he heard about this doctor, just as when he encountered the merchant Lanmere’s presence.
That doctor was also a character card from the tabletop RPG game Siles had played in his previous life.
Of course, character cards aside, Siles was very clear that after coming to this world, these people were no longer as simple as character cards—they were real, living people.
This put Siles in greater turmoil.
Because he knew full well that after this doctor encountered the apostate, his ultimate fate was to be killed by the apostate.
Should Siles do something to prevent this doctor’s death? Should he report the apostate’s existence?
Siles was distracted. While preparing lessons, he even accidentally wrote a concept incorrectly—only then did he suddenly realize that he couldn’t avoid these matters or pretend he knew nothing.
He stared at the dice placed beside the inkwell on his desk.
It remained quiet, remained silent, as if its presence here never represented anything. But in reality, Siles knew full well that it certainly represented many, many things.
It represented that behind Siles’s transmigration, there existed some secret.
Siles took a deep breath and put down his quill. Finally, he made up his mind to visit the Church of the Past’s cathedral afterward.
This actually made him feel somewhat relieved.
He continued preparing lessons and packing his luggage for the move. His efficiency was good—he estimated he could barely complete part of the classroom content before classes officially started.
He spent all of Friday immersed in lesson preparation.
On Friday morning, he specifically went to Logan Market to buy some ingredients.
When passing by Grayson Butcher Shop, he originally wanted to support this company’s business. However, because the shop’s meat was cheap, it was packed with people. After one glance, Siles didn’t want to queue and left directly.
_
On Saturday morning, Siles woke up early, changed his clothes, ate breakfast, then chose a rental carriage and headed straight for the Church of the Past’s Central Cathedral.
The Church of the Past’s Central Cathedral was located in the north-central area of Lafami’s East City, further north of the Historical Society and Atherton Square. There were many important buildings in this vicinity.
When Siles arrived, the time was just past eight o’clock. If he had taken a public carriage, he probably would have arrived two hours later. Of course, rental carriages were indeed considerably more expensive than public ones.
The cathedral’s first impression—at least for Siles, a visitor from another world—was similarly filled with an eclectic style similar to the Historical Society: ancient, solid, and mixed.
The beautiful spire displayed a breathtakingly sharp arc against the gradually brightening sky.
This day was Saturday, a day of rest, so many people habitually came to the cathedral for morning prayers. When Siles arrived, people had already dispersed, leaving only the spacious hall, seats, and the huge statue directly ahead.
A clergyman from the Church of the Past was wiping the base of that statue.
The interior decoration of this cathedral wasn’t particularly ornate, but it exuded a solidity that made Siles feel slightly comfortable. This solid atmosphere accumulated over time was reflected in every ancient brick, every slightly turbid light passing through the stained glass windows.
When Siles walked in here, it was as if he was stepping toward past historical years—the Church of the Past, he thought. This was a name without much aggression, not particularly profound.
As if the church itself had been brewed from past times, weathered, calm, and composed. It was just a hasty glance cast from endless time, which might bring sufficient emotion, or might just be indifferently overlooked by the one who glimpsed it.
Siles quietly took two steps forward, raising his head to gaze at this statue of Antinam.
Antinam had slightly wavy long hair, with features that were unclear whether male or female, aged or young. This statue, as exquisitely detailed as a real person, perfectly displayed the god’s indifferent, noble temperament.
Antinam’s eyes looked straight ahead, as if able to penetrate the fog of history, seeing the past, seeing the future. There was an indescribable compassion in the expression, or perhaps cruelty, as if eternally looking down upon humanity from on high.
During the past several hundred years of the Age of Mist, only this deity sheltered humanity; possessing the world’s only powerful force, yet the church treated humanity and their nations with a very lenient attitude, just like that rather casual name.
In this regard, Siles felt somewhat troubled.
Setting aside the original body’s memories, in the tabletop RPG game he played in his previous life, the background setting of the scenario and the actual situation of this world often gave Siles an indescribable feeling of both familiarity and strangeness.
The scenario did mention this god of the past and history, but when Siles truly came to this world, it was difficult for him to view this real world with the concepts from the scenario.
Words… and actual life. This made Siles feel like he was living in the gap between reality and illusion.
“Good morning, sir.”
The clergyman finished wiping the statue’s base and quietly walked before Siles, his calm and friendly face mixed with a hint of mild curiosity.
Siles suddenly came to his senses. After a moment of silence, he said, “Good morning. I think… I think I recently saw that… wanted apostate.”
The clergyman was slightly stunned, then his face suddenly became serious. “Where, sir?”
“The Old City,” Siles said dryly. “Near Logan Market.”
He couldn’t possibly say he knew that after some time, that apostate would seek out the doctor about to move into 13 Milford Street—should he let others think he was a prophet?—so he could only say this.
The clergyman before him looked at Siles with a somewhat stern gaze, then said, “Please come with me, sir.”
Siles took a deep breath, knowing his action this time was very risky. But he couldn’t sit by and watch someone die; he couldn’t bear knowing someone would die yet turning a blind eye.
He wasn’t a selfless person. He wouldn’t refuse the compensation Bertram Fenn offered. But he wasn’t a selfish person either.
Siles followed the clergyman through the side door of the cathedral’s nave to the rear hall.
“May I ask your name?”
“Siles Noel,” Siles answered.
The moment he said his name, he keenly noticed that the clergyman beside him seemed slightly surprised, or perhaps this name stirred some strange ripples in his mind.
He seemed to instinctively want to say something but ultimately just said casually, “Mr. Noel.”
Siles frowned slightly and glanced at the clergyman.
This was a man whose exact age was hard to tell. His hair was somewhat gray, but his face was still young and his build still robust. He wore ordinary clerical robes and had a pair of composed, calm, inclusive and open brown eyes that seemed weathered by vicissitudes.
Siles then asked, “What should I call you?”
“Grosvenor,” the clergyman said in a humble tone. “A believer of our god.”
This self-introduction gave Siles a somewhat elusive subtle feeling.
But… Siles—whether the current one or the previous one—although he’d never been to Lafami’s cathedral, he knew that Grosvenor was precisely the name of the Central Cathedral’s archbishop.
So this was that Archbishop Grosvenor?
Siles suddenly felt his actions today might have been a bit too rash… This was bad.
Before he could figure out what to make of this, Grosvenor had already led him through the rear hall corridor and called over a young man dressed as a knight.
He said to this young man, “Bunyan, there’s news of Hamlin.”
The knight named Bunyan’s deep blue eyes immediately lit up.
Siles heard the sound of dice rolling in his mind. His facial expression remained calm, but inwardly he groaned—Church Knight Commander Bunyan! Great, another character card in place.
Siles sighed almost imperceptibly.
After handing Siles over to Bunyan, Grosvenor smiled slightly at Siles. “Mr. Noel, then please tell Bunyan the specific information. I must go pray to our god.”
Siles nodded and bid him farewell, unable to suppress that strange feeling in his heart. He felt that this archbishop’s attitude toward him seemed overly friendly?
Siles wasn’t clear what Grosvenor’s true personality was. This doubt flashed through his mind without causing further ripples.
Then he looked at Bunyan.
Weak sunlight streamed through the glass window. In the air of the Church of the Past’s cathedral, there always seemed to be some slight dust. Now, that light and dust seemed to blur Bunyan’s face.
This young, renowned church knight commander had a handsome face. When Siles had played tabletop RPG, the player using this character card was a young woman who more than once exclaimed about the knight commander’s extraordinary “appearance” attribute value.
He had deep blue pupils and brilliant golden hair, wearing knight’s armor, appearing even more handsome and imposing.
He looked at Siles, and because he trusted Grosvenor’s words deeply, he treated Siles with friendliness and anticipation. He asked, “Mr. Noel, you’ve obtained news about Hamlin?”
Siles nodded, about to speak, when suddenly the sound of dice rolling came from his brain, along with a voice.
[Keeper, Bunyan (Church Knight Commander) needs to make a Psychology roll.]
