He was weighing his options.
On one hand, joining the Ministry would give him the channel and access to resources which is beyond his imaginations. In a way, this is no different than being an advisor, a member of the Black Hand gang, though the scale of the two is much greater.
After all, the Churches have existed since the beginning of the second epoch. Their histories compared to the Black Hand, the Shelby Family, are incomparable.
On the other hand, accepting this proposal meant that he would be under 'legal' obligations, facing various restrictions. However, upon thinking about it, he quickly dismissed his concern.
Without the Ministry's protection, perhaps, I can become an unofficial Weaver on my own, but this is a difficult task, filled with danger. In the process, I might even face a bizarre death, leaving this world with regrets… By then, having freedom or not means nothing.
In that sense, joining the Ministry just for their protection alone is worth the deal, not to mention, given the chance to become an official Weaver.
Ottis noticed Ulrich's change in expression as he said.
"This is a considerable decision, we do not want to rush your answer. But I must warn you, the longer you wait, the more likely that the Twilight Order will find you."
At the same time, Victor walked up to Ulrich, pulling out a clean white card and handing it to him.
"You fellows have a business card?" Ulrich muttered in disbelief. Wasn't the Ministry a secretive organization?
Hearing this, Ottis let out a light chuckle, finding Ulrich's reaction amusing.
"Of course, we have a business card. Do you think we work under the sewage of Belham, hidden in some secret cave?"
Victor, standing in front of Ulrich, shook his head as though he was disappointed before walking to the door.
"Once you have your answer, come to this address. Of course, if you are facing certain 'difficulties', you can also come to this address and request help." He said, pointing at the business card as he continued.
"After all, we do handle matters of all sorts, be it finding stolen goods, private investigations, or protection service, as long it is legal, we will accept them."
With that said, Victor and Ottis left the rundown unit, leaving Ulrich alone with the white business card in his hand.
The Ministry. Ulrich subconsciously fiddles with the coin in his pocket while shaking his head.
Despite his years living in Belham, this was his first time hearing about such an organization. Indeed, the matters below the surface of society are far from simple.
Perhaps he should have been more shocked. However, Ulrich was a transmigrator. Since his transmigration, he had his own suspicions regarding the nature of this world, yet never pried below the surface.
The appearance of the Ministry only slightly startled him. To him, this was not as shocking as his dream of 600 years into the future, as well as the existence of the white light. Though the matters relating to spirit channeling did catch him off guard. To think there is such a method in the world.
Since the Ministry was at the scene after me… They must have cleansed the area, right? He blinked rapidly, hoping they did.
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If not, then his enemies can simply perform the same trick and find him just as easily. He regretted having made such a mistake, but looking at it now, there was nothing he could have done. After all, his knowledge regarding mysticism was scattered and shallow.
Perhaps, the next time, there won't be a knock on the door, but dogs surrounding me instead.
At the same time, recalling his own assumption regarding divination, he realized a crucial point, or rather, principle.
"Divination is not omniscient; it is never absolute," Ulrich uttered and jotted down the note mentally.
1. Divination is not omniscient; it is never absolute. It is possible to interfere, conceal, or even distort the result of divination, given sufficient methods.
Encountering Lewis Smith was not planned, yet, confronting this Weaver and facing danger, he was able to further consolidate his own weakness and understanding involving mysticisms.
As for his meeting with Inspector Owen and Dunley, it didn't affect Ulrich's personal plans.
Specifically, there was a matter he wished to verify, and this matter required considerable resources and planning. To be even more precise, Ulrich wanted to see if his action in the 'present' constitutes a change in the 'future'.
In order to do this, he must first plant a seed in the past. This act of planting a seed is like a butterfly flapping its wings. Then, entering the dream, he could immediately observe any corresponding changes.
But… What is this seed I must plant in the present that can last six hundred years? Enough for me to see the effect in the future?
Just thinking about it gave him a headache. He decided to forget about it and let the idea come to him naturally.
At this point, it was already well past three.
Ulrich got dressed and stopped by Euston Street, near St. Samuel. As he arrived near a familiar street, the same one that he had been on just the night before, he was surprised.
It's clean, too clean! He pressed down on his black cap, covering his abnormal reaction while glancing at the surrounding pedestrians, noting their appearance and actions.
None of them seemed to notice anything, it was as though the corpse on that sidewalk never existed. For a second, Ulrich thought he was having a memory issue due to spiritual weakness. However, the image of that corpse remained fresh in his mind.
'What frightening speed and efficiency…'
Without a second thought, Ulrich closed his eyes to enter resonance and performed a quick divination.
There was a corpse below the lamp post in front of 51st Euston Street.
Clink. Clink.
He caught the coin and lifted his hand to reveal the answer—It was the portrait of Rothstyn's face.
Seeing this, Ulrich stuffed the coin back into his pocket and walked past the lamp post, occasionally gazing at the nearby crosswalks and shops.
Since his arrival at 51st Euston Street, he looked ordinary, someone who fiddled with a coin in his hand while enjoying the surrounding scenery. Perhaps if they paid attention, then they would notice little pauses on his face, which he concealed with his black cap.
…
51st Euston Street, in a nearby tea shop.
The scent of herbs, as well as fresh-brewed tea leaves, lingered in the air.
Despite the crowded shops, there was barely any noise. People here varied from young teenagers to middle-aged adults, all occupied with their own business. Some buried their face in stacks of books, others enjoyed a casual cup of carefully brewed tea with papers in hand.
One of these people is Victor Dunley, who sat in a mahogany chair, holding a piece of newspaper in his hand. It was the latest issue from the Belham Daily Post.
Coincidentally, the main title for today was about the offshore bans issued by the Union. For the past couple of days, there have been words that the increased bans have caused the outer district folks to take arms, inciting violence, even going as far as organizing a revolt.
However, he didn't seem to care as his eyes lingered elsewhere past the window of the tea shop. Occasionally, he would put down the newspaper, take a sip of the hot brewd tea, while sneaking glances across the street.
If Ulrich were here, he would recognize the building being Selena's Home.
At this moment, Victor's eyes lit up, his lips curled into an amused smile as he lifted the teacup toward his mouth.
Heh, Captain Ottis's foresight is excellent.
He saw Ulrich appear near 51st Euston Street, fiddling with the coin in his hand before leaving as normal, like the nearby pedestrians. This entire sequence lasted no more than three minutes.
After Ulrich's departure, Victor tapped his finger against the edge of the wooden table, his expression filled with apprehension. Not long after, he called up the waiter, paid the tab, and then followed Ulrich's footsteps.
