This scene was truly bizarre, making it hard not to suspect some kind of trap.
At that moment, Allen keenly caught a faint, metallic scent in the air—a hint of blood different from what lingered beyond the door.
He turned his head and saw several carts in the corner of the inn, piled with corpses—these wore finer gear, clearly the core enforcers of the Thieves’ Guild.
“Young Master Laval, this place now belongs to you. Please have your brave men put away their weapons.” The bartender’s tone was calm and respectful.
Allen realized this group was giving him no way out—they had truly switched sides for good.
“So you cleaned up the house so quickly and then invited us in?” Allen touched the mask on his face. His identity shouldn’t have been exposed. “Did you recognize me the first time we met?”
“Of course.” The bartender smiled faintly.
“When you made that sensational Confession in the capital, one of my people happened to be present. From that moment on, I realized that you and the Laval House were about to show your true fangs.”
“As for those ‘infamous’ rumors about you, many were spread with our help. By the way, I am also one of your father, Bernard Viscount’s, old ‘business partners.'”
“So you’re ‘one of us.'” Allen suddenly understood.
Given that the Laval House was the foremost construction contractor in the capital, it wasn’t surprising that their business had ties to both sides of the law.
Allen knew his father had some shady connections, but he hadn’t expected to find ‘their own people’ inside the Thieves’ Guild itself.
Wait… The Sewer System Blueprints Old Butler Jean-Leclerc gave Allen, said to be provided by a ‘well-informed’ source—could that person be the bartender?
“You’re the one who provided the Sewer System Blueprints?” Allen asked in surprise.
“That’s right.” The bartender admitted freely.
“Since you’re determined to eliminate the Thieves’ Guild once and for all, naturally I had to offer what help I could. The Laval House is not what it once was—now you have the favor of the Crown Prince and the Church. Those so-called ‘backers’ of the Thieves’ Guild are nothing before you.”
“I understand the Crown Prince’s stance, but the Church…”
Allen spoke halfway before suddenly realizing—the man was testing him!
He couldn’t possibly know about Allen’s secret alliance with Luthien, the Archbishop, but from the Confession and its aftermath, he had deduced as much.
“Looks like I guessed right.” The bartender’s smile deepened.
“Our Forgotten Madonna and the Thieves’ Guild you want to eradicate are actually two different groups. We’re more like long-term ‘business partners.’ Of course, if you look back far enough, the original Thieves’ Guild was indeed founded by us.”
“But later we found that surviving in the grey areas under the sun is far safer than hiding entirely in darkness. Since you’re determined to become the new lawmaker of the underworld, we’re happy to hand over that position.”
“The Laval House is a worthy ally to invest in—at least far more trustworthy than some evil forces.”
“I understand.”
Allen noticed the bartender’s eyes darting several times toward Victor and the other Inquisition members and immediately saw the crucial point.
“You realized they were colluding with heretics, so you decided to cut ties in time and clear your name?”
“You’re a clever man, Young Master Laval.” The bartender admitted frankly.
“The title of Thieves’ Guild has changed hands many times. Why? Because they always cross the line, time and again. This time, they went too far.”
“Our business—skin trade—skirts the edge of the law, but never steps outside it. The fallen women pay a commission, we provide protection and venues—each side gets what they need, a fair deal. As for smuggling and such small trades, we dabble. But as for slave trading, trafficking, murder, arson—those truly filthy businesses, we never touch them.”
After hearing this, Allen mused, “So, in truth, you’ve stripped away the dirtiest, most dangerous dealings and dumped them on the Thieves’ Guild as a cancer? On the surface, you seem their camouflage and cover, but in reality, it’s you using them, letting them act as the underworld’s sewer?”
“Exactly so.” The bartender nodded. “Chaos is uncontrollable, and the grey inevitably breeds darkness. We have no choice but to use this method to protect ourselves, keeping a fragile balance.”
Allen couldn’t help but sigh—this bartender before him was likely one of the true controllers of both the Forgotten Madonna and the entire grey world.
They were the very picture of ‘lawful evil,’ the deep undercurrents that could never be uprooted, no matter how the capital’s surface winds shifted.
However, in Allen’s view, these people were themselves victims and products of the old world—forces that could be won over, reformed, and eventually absorbed into the Brotherhood of the Children of Dawn.
“I can accept your group,” Allen said, “The Forgotten Madonna needs to continue—it’s your foundation, I understand. But this place must be thoroughly transformed. You can stay, but you must become supporters and enforcers of the new rules I set.”
“You’re not the first with such ambition, Young Master Laval.” The bartender’s tone turned appraising. “But your predecessors all failed. Whether you repeat their mistakes, we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Rest assured—the future we bring is truly bright, not a cycle of old sins.”
Allen turned to the two Brotherhood of the Children of Dawn members behind him—a freckle-faced, firm-eyed youth named Pierre, and the one-armed former knight, John Camille.
“You two, explain the basic ideas of the Brotherhood of the Children of Dawn and the Mutual Aid Association. From now on, they have only two choices: get on board, or be crushed under the wheels of history.” Allen’s tone was calm.
“Understood!” Pierre and John answered in unison.
When the bartender and his men finished listening to Allen’s “earth-shattering” vision, every face showed shock and even fear.
They had known this Young Master Laval was ambitious—but never imagined his ambitions were grand enough to swallow the world whole! “Heaven on Earth”? What sane man dares dream of that?
Yet not only did he dare, he even offered a plan that sounded so unbelievable that even those used to the darkness of the underworld felt it might actually be possible! Terrifying!
Every past Thieves’ Guild boss was just a scumbag out for selfish gain.
Only this young man before them sincerely wished to save all living beings and liberate those struggling at the bottom.
Could he really succeed?
But…
The bartender’s gaze swept over the alert, zealous Brotherhood of the Children of Dawn members.
In the eyes of these so-called “old, weak, sick, and disabled,” he saw a light never before seen in the city’s poor—a light of hope and faith.
These people already no longer belonged to the outside world.
He looked at the silent, fully armed Lily Guard, exuding a steely aura. They were no longer just mercenaries for hire, but an army forged by faith in a higher cause.
Young Master Laval, from near drowning to assembling such a force, had needed less than half a month…
What did that mean? This was beyond mortal capability! It was terrifying… and somehow inspiring.
“You’ve all heard. Any thoughts?”
The bartender turned to the staff of the Forgotten Madonna.
These were not merely illiterate underlings; many were fallen middle-class or bankrupt nobles, with some education.
They could better grasp the scale of Allen’s ambitions.
After all, they had fallen this far—what worse could happen if they joined a rebellion? And if it succeeded?
“Mr. Matthew,” a maid plucked up her courage and spoke for them all, “we are willing to follow Young Master Laval.”
“…I understand.” The bartender, Matthew, took a deep breath, turned to Allen, and bowed solemnly.
“Please, let us also contribute to your vision of Heaven on Earth. We promise you, we are ‘clean’—you can rest assured. If anyone betrays you in future, I will deal with them personally.”
“I’ll host the formal initiation for you all soon.” Allen nodded. “For now, help my people clear up any traces outside. On July 1st, the Forgotten Madonna opens as usual. But from now on, this place will no longer be called the Forgotten Madonna…”
He paused, then uttered the name he’d long prepared: “This will be the first branch of the Continental Hotel.”
“You’ll keep running your business, but in the future, we’ll open these all over the world as a chain. When the Thieves’ Guild is wiped out, we’ll talk more about operations.”
“Understood. May your mission be victorious and triumphant!”
Although Matthew was still a bit unclear about the “Continental Hotel” and the idea of a “chain,” he agreed without hesitation.
Allen quickly assigned people to remain and clean up, then, without pause, led his core fighters toward the Thieves’ Guild headquarters.
Worner and his confidants, Victor, Anna, and the Heretic Inquisition Squad members followed close behind Allen, watching as he navigated the complex underground passages with unerring memory, each harboring complicated feelings.
This “God’s Messenger” was just too unbelievable! Who could have imagined the enemy would suddenly split from within, defect at the last moment, and instantly join their cause? Was even this all part of his calculations?!
In truth, Allen himself was quite surprised.
He suddenly recalled how Old Butler Jean-Leclerc, when handing him the sewer blueprints, had said meaningfully, “Young Master, the Laval House may not have eyes and ears everywhere, but we can still offer you a little ‘convenience.'”
So this was what he meant by ‘convenience’…
At this moment, Allen felt nothing like a “God’s Messenger.” Instead, he felt like the number one fool under the heavens.
A thousand cycles of reincarnation! Only this time around had he realized—he’d never truly understood the potential of being a “villainous young master.”
The Laval House had so many hidden resources and networks, yet he’d never once really put them to use.
So many hidden plots, and he never tried to trigger any of them.
Allen had always thought the main story events had nothing to do with him.
If he, a villainous young master, stole the heroine’s chance, wouldn’t he die even faster?
But in truth, whether he snatched those opportunities or not, he’d always died. So why not snatch them?
Ugh, what were those 999 cycles even for?! No wonder Livia cut him down so many times—he deserved it!
Now, comparing how smooth everything was going in this round to the countless miserable failures of the past, a wave of inexpressible feelings welled up in his chest.
Amid this flood of emotion, two hot tears slid from Allen’s eyes (luckily hidden by his mask).
Instinctively, he lifted a hand to wipe at the corners of his eyes.
Trailing behind, Worner, Victor, and the others just happened to catch this subtle gesture.
Everyone was stunned.
Why was he crying? Was that earlier scene of frenzied, bloodthirsty laughter as he cut down his enemies all an act? Was he, in fact, grieving the lost lives, full of pain and sorrow?
Was all that terrifying behavior just to shock the enemy into surrender, reducing needless slaughter?
Ah… What profound compassion and magnanimity!
Although the Lily Guard and the Inquisition members barely knew each other, thrown together as temporary allies, at that moment, through their (entirely mistaken) shared interpretation of Allen’s actions, a strange resonance and sense of camaraderie grew between them.
They now looked at Allen’s back with even deeper reverence and fervor.
Allen de Laval, in their eyes, had become ever more lofty and mysterious, shining with boundless light.
And in that faith, a faint golden glow quietly appeared in Allen’s dark eyes.