Chapter 465 - 314: Blind to You (Part 1)
Fate is a curious thing, Casaman had to admit, especially when he received his new mission, which was to stir up conflict between the refugees and the natives in Carterburg—not for the first time had he contemplated this.
He had also asked the Archbishop, because everyone knew that Carterburg was God’s Child Malin’s territory, filled with his spies everywhere. Whether they were refugees or natives, many children served him, and no situation could escape the notice of his little ears and eyes.
Besides, Carterburg had plenty of job opportunities. As long as refugees had some skills, there would always be food-earning work waiting for them, and even retired veterans could be absorbed by the city patrol—expanded city walls and broadened avenues needed patrols and maintenance, as did newly built districts and refugee estates that required protection.
They say it is almost like Heavenly Kingdom on earth, where almost every sentient being has a job. Those who aren’t mentally sound naturally find themselves accommodated by the gallows and asylums, each taking in souls with their own flaws.
Where could one instigate opposition when everyone has food on their plate? Who would care about so-called beliefs—in this increasingly transparent world, the things promoted in newspapers make the existence of the Chaos Cult even more difficult.
Perhaps it was time to end this long infiltration. After finishing the affairs here, he would seek out Mr. Malin to help him arrange things; even the evil Chaotic Believer Casaman deserved to die at the hands of justice’s Revolver.
Afterward, whether reborn as Jack or Mack, or even named Tracy, it would be a new life, wouldn’t it?
Thinking this, Casaman removed the cigar from his mouth and placed it in the ashtray next to the sofa. He rose, walked to the dressing mirror, shed his robe, and donned formal wear—this attire, trending from Carterburg, made every mannequin-esque human form appear more gallant. Casaman was to meet someone today.
The other party was the president of the Business Guild, and they had to discuss workers’ weekly wages—thanks to Mr. Malin’s ’blessing.’ His factory had absorbed so many workers, provided so many benefits, and yet still generated so much profit.
That’s why the guild was going to confront Mr. Malin today; they had to make him reduce the weekly wages, or else all the workers under everyone’s name would simply find a better boss for themselves.