Mythology Rebooted
Chapter 521 - 227 Is this also within your calculations?_2

Chapter 521: Chapter 227 Is this also within your calculations?_2

"...xN

Several guests, who were sound asleep, opened their eyes, including Veronica, the bartender, all of them gaping in surprise.

"Young man, didn’t the High Priest of the district tell you that we’re all on the same side?"

"You want to show off your strength, no problem, come at night. I’ve said there’s an auction then, dozens of people will be waiting for you to fight!"

Wayne didn’t play by the rules. He grabbed a bar stool next to him and laid into Franco with it, not holding back at all, making Franco scream in pain.

"Stop, stop, I remember where the Philosopher’s Stone is," Franco cried.

"You remember so quickly, it must be a fake, you think it’s that easy to fool me?"

Wayne swung the chair again, hitting him several times, as Franco, holding onto his legs, pleaded for mercy: "I really remember this time, I’m not lying, the Philosopher’s Stone is in the bar."

"Why didn’t you do that earlier!"

Wayne threw down the chair, asked the bartender to bring over the item, and looking down at Franco, said, "I’m very clear about my principles and bottom lines. I hate you Black Sorcerers and the followers of darkness and Death the most. I beat up on sight; running into me is your just deserts for your misdeeds."

He then spouted some simple and easily understood truths about eliminating evil and how the Goddess guides the just, silencing the crowd and filling the bar with a tense atmosphere.

Could he really not know?xN

He should!xN

In Franco’s tearful state of grievance, the bartender came forward with a wooden box; Veronica took it, finding inside a red crystalline gem the size of a fist, emitting an obscure aura of Magic Power.

She nodded at Wayne, the stone matched the description in the intelligence report perfectly.

"Not bad, I didn’t expect you, a despicable Black Sorcerer, to be so trustworthy."

Wayne crouched down, reaching into his chest, as Franco quickly shielded his face, only to discover Wayne wasn’t pulling out a gun but was handing him a Naturalism Church propaganda pamphlet, leaving him stunned.

"Lost soul, I see the virtue of honesty in you, though born out of fear of violence and a forced promise, I must admit there’s a glimmer of humanity in your dark soul. Take this book and read it; I hope it awakens the truth, beauty, and goodness within you."

Wayne patted Franco’s shoulder and said with a stern face, "Join our Naturalism Church, and you too can become part of The Justice Faction, just like me."

Franco: Is there a chance that I’ve been a member of the Naturalism Church for a long time?

"Don’t be confused, don’t hesitate; the Goddess will guide you on the right path, a road full of light and happiness."

Wayne slapped Franco’s injury, infusing natural healing energy that eased the bruising, then took a wad of cash and stuffed it into Franco’s chest.

What’s this for?

"I firmly believe the Goddess’s light can dispel all darkness, and even a scumbag like you can reform and become a good person and perhaps even be a committed disciple, just like me."

Wayne spoke earnestly, spreading the light of faith: "Franco, from now on, we’re all on the same side. Take this money as my apology for the medical expenses, and I hope next time we meet, it will be in a library, not behind a bar."

"With that said, think it over; whether your life continues hidden in the dark or bathed in the Goddess’s light, living upright like a good person."

Wayne patted Franco’s shoulder, gave him an encouraging look, and left side by side with Veronica.

In the car, Wayne checked the Philosopher’s Stone; he didn’t quite understand it, but it wasn’t important, he tossed it on the back seat and drove straight to the next clue.

After they left, silence lingered long in the bar before Franco finally got up from the ground.

He pocketed the thick stack of Queens, thinking for a moment that it was well worth the beating if he could get rich by being beaten by Wayne every day.

But...

"What do you think, does he know or not?"

"He probably doesn’t, otherwise he wouldn’t have hit so hard; Franco’s head is bleeding..."

"No, I think he knows, it’s deliberate. His acting is too stiff, especially those lines about the Goddess, although they’re true, but... in short, he got a Philosopher’s Stone without following the script."

"Franco, what do you think?"

I think he gave too much!

Franco took a deep breath, lifting up The Church’s propaganda pamphlet: "I took it throughout, so I have the most say; he doesn’t know anything, he’s a devout candidate."

"No good!" the bartender shouted.

"What’s wrong?"

"If he really doesn’t know, won’t the other two clues also have to be solved with fists?"

"Ah this..."

"What are you waiting for, quickly make a call; we can’t play it like this, or else he’ll gather all three stones in one day."

People scrambled, making calls, driving cars, hastily informing their colleagues that the situation had changed.

In a corner of the bar, a burly man woke up with a start. He removed the gentleman’s hat covering his face and downed the stale drink in one gulp.

"Interesting!"

"First time I’ve seen a candidate pass like this. Is it intentional, or does he really not care..."

"But I like it. If he becomes the Saint Heir, Church headquarters will surely be lively..."

"Hey, maybe he is a genius?"

The man, with brown curly hair and a rugged beard, reeking of alcohol, stood up, bottle in hand, and left the bar.

In the meantime, Franco and the others did not interact with him, as if he didn’t exist at all.

...

The second clue led to a warehouse in a city block.