Chapter 297 - 284: The Plan Must Go On (3)

Chapter 297: Chapter 284: The Plan Must Go On (3)

"Who are you?"

The Pianist shot to his feet and looked toward the High Priest.

But at some point, a grim-faced Judge had taken the High Priest’s place. He was now watching the Pianist with an intrigued expression, as if anticipating his next performance.

The other Priests in the room had also vanished into thin air, replaced by a roomful of Judges and Crusaders holding various weapons, all subtly pointed at him.

A shiver ran down the Pianist’s spine as he realized something was terribly wrong.

For instance, why would all the Priests of the Sect be gathered in one place? They were supposed to be scattered across different cities.

And why would the High Priest, who had always treated him with disdain and mistrust, suddenly show him such favor?

"This... I’m in... a [Story]? Hmm, that must be it. But now that I’m awake and realize I’m in a [Story], it’s no big deal..." he said, as if trying to comfort himself.

But the middle-aged man just spread his hands with a helpless look and explained,

"No, I’m from Projection... You’re the one who suddenly burst into our conference room, started rambling on, and even played multiple roles by yourself. It was a truly remarkable performance."

"Ah, this..."

The Pianist froze, realizing his perceptions and thoughts might have been unknowingly manipulated.

He erupted into action, preparing to force his way out.

But the small conference room was packed with dozens of people. They immediately swarmed him, pinning him firmly to the ground.

’Why is this happening?’

The Pianist’s cheek was pressed against the floor, a knee digging into his neck. Disbelief filled his face.

’My power... where is the Sovereign’s Shelter?’

’Could it be... the Sovereign has abandoned me?’

’Or maybe...’

’He really has fallen into a deep sleep from His injuries?’

Before he could think it through, his vision blurred. A "narration" began to seep directly into his brain:

"You are a homeless man living on the streets. By a stroke of chance, you witness a Cult ritual and decide to report it to the Sect..."

’This is the real [Story].’

Although the Pianist tried to resist, he was powerless against the invasive "narration." He soon fell into his new "role" and began to confess every last detail of the Cult’s activities from his memory.

Meanwhile, at the counter of an underground bar, the Pianist’s Attendant handed a sealed envelope to the bartender before him.

This was the tough guy the Pianist wanted to hire, a man known for his ruthlessness, cunning, and treachery.

But the Attendant wasn’t afraid. He had come with a personal letter from the Steward; the man wouldn’t dare do anything to him.

After the bartender tore open the envelope, the Attendant added,

"This person is in Radiant City. Find him and bring him to me."

The bartender glanced at the letter’s contents, then gave a look to a burly subordinate standing beside him.

The subordinate immediately grabbed the Attendant’s throat, slammed him onto the bar, then whipped out a dagger and drove it into the countertop right next to his cheek.

"AGHHH! My neck... What are you doing?"

the Attendant screamed as he asked.

"Looks like you don’t get it. I fucking hate being played for a fool."

"What?"

"This is the person you’re looking for?"

The bartender slapped the letter down in front of the Attendant’s face.

The Attendant strained to move his eyes and glanced at the letter.

On it, drawn with simple strokes, was a vivid little picture:

ヽ(○^㉨^)ﾉ♪

"I... that’s... it’s not..."

The Attendant trailed off, at a complete loss for how to explain. ’The letter the Pianist gave me... this was what was inside?’