Under the sunlight outside the window, a magic pen with a bright black metallic color quickly rustled across the paper. A hazy and transparent middle-aged white man sat upright on the chair and wrote quickly, looking at the notes on the table next to him from time to time.

Charles stood behind him holding the water cup, quietly looking at the lines of slightly sloppy English letters, and occasionally providing his own opinions.

"It's more implicit, and the artistic processing taste is too strong."

...

"No, your writing is completely incompatible with the style of the article here, and others can see it at a glance, which is very awkward."

...

"It is best to highlight the selfless dedication of monks under the leadership of the church, rather than the original character of monks. Of course, monks are also kind-hearted. I mean that under the leadership of the church, he has become more amiable."

...

Time passed quietly. In his state of being an outsider who guided his experts, the manuscript was eventually drawn and several times were ticked.

After being barely complete, it was copied by the former newspaper reporter born in Kentucky, USA, and finally fell into the hands of Shire.

"That's it, thank you." After a glance, the young man nodded with no satisfaction. He felt that the manuscript was still a bit bad.

Of course, he can't tell what the difference is.

However, this did not affect the reporter's movements. As Charles finished speaking, the middle-aged white man with a hazy body obviously breathed a sigh of relief, and then he couldn't wait to get up and leave the place. As a result, a suction force suddenly came from behind.

Under the silent and desperate wailing, the middle-aged white man involuntarily turned into a gray stream of light and was sucked in. At the same time, he heard the last infuriating sentence in his ears.

"I'll come to you next time I have this."

...

Capitalists use the lowest cost to make workers feel the highest enthusiasm. During this period, if necessary, they will naturally be generous and highly praised and pour chicken soup.

But in this unreasonable place where strength is paramount, there is no need to be so much trouble. You have to do it, and you have to do it even if you don’t. It is even more slavery than slavery.

However, Charles felt that rescuing the senior sanatorium reporter from his irrational state of resentment can be regarded as saving his life, and "living" in his wings, there is no danger of gradually losing his mind.

If this happens, he will have nothing to be embarrassed about.

Death Wings is a very unique ability. It absorbs souls, releases souls, maintains the immortality of the soul, and it is also like this now.

Normally, humans cannot see the soul or even communicate with it. Necromancers need to do it through spells if they want to do it.

However, the souls that appear from the Death Wings of Charles do not have such restrictions.

Of course, only he can see it himself.

...

The delivery time set by Siegel of the Gospel Department was at noon today, and because the time was too fast, it was impossible for Charles to carefully "repair the manuscript".

He was a little regretful about this, but he didn't care much. After copying his own handwriting and local text, he hurriedly left the manor in a carriage and rushed towards the church.

...

As the carriage rushes, it gradually leaves the area where the manor is located and arrives at the main road of the Royal City of Porso.

It just looks a bit different from what he had seen some time ago.

You can clearly see along the glass window that most of the pedestrians on both sides of the street are in a hurry. The neatly dressed gentlemen no longer have the leisure and elegant feeling they used to be. They are not as rigorous as wearing crutches, and there are not many ladies.

The workers and beggars remain the same, but most of them looked numb and implicitly indignant.

What are you angry about?

He followed the eyes of the people and could see a team of patrol teams in white uniforms in the distance, staring at the surroundings with wide eyes, and rushed forward to interrogate them if there was anything wrong.

Obviously, the consequences of that crowd parade are not over yet. Or, for some reason, are getting more and more intense.

Charles remembered that his cheap father always looked heavy during this period, and seemed to have encountered some difficulties.

However, Charles felt that this had nothing to do with him. Although he sympathized with these workers, he was only limited to sympathy.

When many tragedies did not happen before him, he always regarded them as non-existent.

...

The carriage rushed towards the Church of St. Casso and passed by one street after another. Because the carriage was engraved with the family emblem of the Corinston family, the waves of interrogators on the street would not make things difficult for him. But the carriages for rent were not treated like this, and they were often blocked, causing complaints.

"There are so many things in the country." Miller, a young man who had just received a wave of investigation, returned to the carriage he hired angrily and closed the car door with a slam.

The driver comforted him a few words, but it was ineffective. Obviously, the black-haired and dark-eyed chauvinist felt that he had been insulted in a foreign country.

So the coachman put off his thoughts of persuasion, slapped the rope, and began to move forward.

However, it was very unlucky. After walking a few steps, the carriage scraped past a passing carriage. The violent shaking made Miller in the carriage scream.

"Damn it, what happened again!?"

"Sir, speak softly, this is the car of the nobles in the royal city."

"What's wrong with the nobles? The nobles in Dulin are all idiots! Dogs! Country bumpkins!"

Miller, who was already angry about the investigation, even started to curse, without any concealment of his voice.

Then he followed the car window and saw the young man's ostentatious aura and "despise" gaze in the carriage opposite, and he was even more angry.

"What are you looking at, Golden Retrievers!"

He shouted loudly, his eyes widening, as if he was about to roll up his sleeves and fight after a disagreement. Fortunately, the driver of the car didn't want to be too much, so he apologized and rushed to drive the car away.

This made Charles, who was innocently caught on the side, want to roll his eyes.

"Young Master, do you want someone to teach him a lesson?"

The coachman of the Kelanston family knew that the person in the car was not of a good temper, so he turned around and suggested.

"The Rust Gang in the Outer City has been cursing our housekeeper recently. As long as you say it, they will not refuse at all."

"Forget it." Charles waved his hand, too lazy to pay attention to such boring trivial matters.

...

No surprises happened next. He successfully arrived at the Church of St. Casso and met the leader Siegel, who had two smooth beards and neatly worn horse-clad white shirts.

Then he was questioned.

"Your hair..."

"It's like this when I wake up, it may be related to bloodline."

Shire replied, and he could not help asking again, and after he hurriedly handed the manuscript in his hand to the other party.

The Son of Gods is always different from normal people. Siegel didn't ask much when he heard this. After taking the manuscript and reading it carefully, he commented in a pertinent manner: "Your point of view is very novel, but the article is too fancy. I suggest you modify it again. Of course, the general framework is good."

"No problem." Charles nodded happily without hesitation. Anyway, he wasn't changing it.

"The revision of the manuscript must be done before tomorrow."

Siegel said again: "I will leave it to me when you come to report tomorrow morning; the church headquarters has sent you a companion whom you were on duty, and I will also introduce it to you. Also, I will arrange a task for you around tomorrow afternoon, a place not far from the city of Porso, which will allow you to get along with your new companion."

Upon hearing this, Charles nodded again, saying nothing.

“By the way.”
Chapter completed!