Chapter 66
Chapter 66: No Turning Back
Michel had witnessed Sera’s methods.
A rainy night.
The umbrella couldn’t even cover that burly man’s shoulders. Blinding lightning illuminated the shattered limbs scattered across the ground, crimson dripping like curtains from the hem of his trench coat as he stood in the pouring rain.
He needed no agent assistance, no contact with headquarters to consult the information database, much less support from other enforcement officers.
Sera Fred alone was an entire squad. His investigation, arrest, interrogation, and execution formed a seamless line, requiring no judicial procedures—the Pope recognized the legality of all his actions.
The only Seraph-class enforcement officer of this era.
He was a legend of the Temperance Institute.
That was Michel’s first time participating in a criminal investigation as a trainee agent, but Sera didn’t need any of the things she had learned at seminary. He only needed one glance to know who had used which supernatural characteristic to commit crimes, while Michel hadn’t even heard the names of that sequence and potion.
Each of the Seven Institutes of Virtue strictly controlled the potion formulas of their respective supernatural pathways, hunting down and destroying all original sin pathway potion formulas related to demons. Most people didn’t even know what the next potion they should drink in their pathway was called, much less understand other pathways.
They just blindly followed the orders of the Seven Institutes’ archbishops and gratefully accepted blessings from the Lord.
Sera was an anomaly not just in the Temperance Institute, but throughout the entire Seven Institutes.
Violating Church prohibitions, he learned potion formulas and supernatural characteristics corresponding to various pathways and sequences through channels unknown to others. By the time the Temperance Institute’s archbishop discovered the anomaly and prepared to judge him, he had already become a hero revered by countless people in Vatican.
This knowledge forbidden by the Church had made Sera, and would eventually destroy Sera.
But that reclusive, physically frail Pope unexpectedly appeared at the secret trial, pardoning Sera and granting him unique privileges.
Sera was permitted to retain that forbidden knowledge and continue serving the Church and Temperance Institute as an enforcement officer.
The Temperance Institute handled all cases related to supernatural abilities in Church-controlled territories, but they could only use conventional investigative methods to search for and record all suspicious phenomena before reporting to the Church, letting supernatural advisors dispatched by the other six institutes analyze and organize possibilities.
This inefficient, lengthy process created too many unnecessary troubles, yet was a necessary practice to strictly follow Church orders.
Most agents and enforcement officers had no idea which details needed attention and which were actually unnecessary to worry about. The execution level and analytical guidance level lacked communication and were severely disconnected, leaving many complex cases shelved and ultimately unresolved, with perpetrators still at large.
But ever since Sera received the Pope’s special permission, he would clear out all the difficult cases accumulated at headquarters each month, bypassing procedures and delivering only results.
This was the situation the Pope needed—using Sera’s individual privilege as an exchange, both ensuring Church orders were followed and improving the Temperance Institute’s efficiency.
So he was also called by some the Pope’s private executioner, having effectively become independent from the Temperance Institute, becoming a judgment machine that only obeyed the Pope.
However, the premise for all this was that he wouldn’t pass this knowledge to others.
But if that stern-faced man sensed his death was near, might he break this premise and preserve hope for the privilege’s inheritance?
Michel seriously reassessed the seemingly young, petite girl before her. Her fair skin was flawless, her small hands pink and tender, clearly showing she hadn’t engaged in much labor—nothing like someone from a worker’s family in the Blackwater River District. Combined with maturity and composure far beyond her peers, good upbringing and manners, Michel had reason to suspect the girl was of noble birth, just accidentally found by Charlotte in the Blackwater River District.
Precisely because she had witnessed Sera’s methods firsthand, Michel knew how rare such talent was. She had to consider this possibility, especially when the girl before her frankly stated she was Sera’s inheritor.
Michel admitted her past thirty-plus years had been rigid, rule-bound, with doctrine as her only standard, but that image of Sera’s decisive, solitary figure on that thunderous night remained forever in her memory.
Smashing through what seemed like an insurmountable wall was far more convenient and efficient than finding another route around it. The desperate and severe situation didn’t allow Michel to miss any opportunity she could grasp, no matter how absurd it initially seemed.
The Greycloud Fortress branch needed a turning point—
This was exactly the result Funise had hoped for. The branch’s predicament forced Michel to temporarily set aside doubt, prejudice, and attachment to doctrine, allowing her plan to continue.
Cooperating with Charlotte for an “interview” was just a means to achieve her goal.
From the very beginning, Funise had come here to figure out the deeper reasons why the Greycloud Fortress branch was allowed to remain, and joining the Temperance Institute was the most direct and expedient method.
No matter how absurd it seemed from a common sense perspective, once Sera Fred was involved, the nature of things changed.
Because this Seraph-class enforcement officer’s very existence was absurd—he exceeded norms and defied common sense, yet was the most devout practitioner of temperance, a collection of contradictions.
“Enforcement Officer Charlotte, this interview content reaches Throne-class confidentiality level. I need to take this child to the underground vault for a private conversation. During this time, you’ll substitute for me in watching the branch director’s office. Record any major matters for me first.”
Michel gently pressed Funise’s shoulder, speaking with a serious expression.
She had made her choice.
“What… Throne-class? Doesn’t that mean only the Seven Institutes’ archbishops and the Pope can…” Charlotte couldn’t believe it, staring woodenly at the apologetic-looking Funise. “Celi, you… there were still things you didn’t tell me?”
“It was Mr. Sera’s request… he… I’m sorry, Sister Charlotte, this was his wish.” Funise lifted her skirt and bowed apologetically to Charlotte with some guilt.
“Respect Mr. Sera’s decision, Charlotte. He’s always been good to you, hasn’t he?” Michel slowly stood up, taking Funise’s hand. “Come with me, Celi. It won’t take long—you’ll see Sister Charlotte again shortly.”
“Then, see you later, Sister Charlotte.” Near the door, Funise turned back to say goodbye softly.
She saw the blonde girl still looking dazed, stiff-limbed and swaying, barely able to stand steady. The deliberate concealment by the father she had always trusted and respected left the young girl deeply shaken.
But Funise had no solution—she could only watch helplessly as Charlotte continued to feel dejected like this.
She could no longer acknowledge her as a father.
She couldn’t.
And didn’t deserve to.
Fabricating lie after lie for her own plans and purposes, even feeling pleased when her cunning schemes succeeded repeatedly—she was no longer that upright enforcement officer from before. Now she was just a hypocritical, selfish witch.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte…”
“I can’t… turn back anymore…”