Chapter 241: Underground

“Master,” Daimon Nagatomo said respectfully, “this is this month’s financial ledger for the church. Please review it.”

Inside Messias’s private room, Daimon handed over a detailed accounting ledger.

Messias took the ledger and carefully examined its contents.

Standing silently nearby, Daimon Nagatomo and Deacon Moers waited patiently for further instructions.

After a few minutes, Messias placed the ledger on the table and said, “This month’s income has surpassed that of the last. You’ve done well. I will report your accomplishments to the High Lord and request forgiveness for your previous errors.”

Hearing this, both deacons visibly relaxed and quickly expressed their gratitude with fervent bows.

Messias waved a hand to signal silence and then turned to Daimon Nagatomo. “Is this man, Yagami Iori, reliable? I do not wish for another incident like the one with Andrei.”

Daimon promptly replied, “I’ve had him investigated thoroughly. It’s been confirmed that he indeed served in a Bulgarian mercenary group, and his personal account aligns closely with the gathered information. However, to prevent individuals like Andrei, who harbored ulterior motives, from infiltrating us again, I plan not to involve Yagami Iori in the church’s inner workings. Instead, he will replace the deceased Sada Kazuo, and his role will be limited to disciplining those who disobey us.”

Messias nodded. “Does he have the skills to handle such tasks?”

Daimon, confident, said, “He is quite capable, and more importantly, he’s a quintessential scoundrel—someone who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. From the information I gathered, he didn’t return to Japan simply because his mercenary organization disbanded. Instead, he betrayed his allies to the enemy and fled when his actions were discovered. A man like him, unscrupulous and pragmatic, will undoubtedly outperform Sada Kazuo.”

Messias raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “It seems he’s rather bold. Such men can be useful tools, obedient dogs. But they may also turn into wolves that bite their masters. Keep him in check.”

“I understand, Master. I will ensure he remains loyal to us,” Daimon assured.

Messias then turned to Moers. “What about those meddling women? What’s their current status?”

Moers respectfully replied, “As per your instructions, I refrained from killing them and confined them in the underground chamber. Would you like to see them now?”

Messias shook his head. “It’s late. I’ll deal with them tomorrow. You may both leave and rest.”

Moers bowed and suddenly asked, “Would you like Ms. Kikuji Himeyama to serve you this evening?”

Messias considered briefly before nodding.

“Please wait a moment. I’ll summon her immediately. We’ll take our leave.” After another bow, both Moers and Daimon exited the room.

As they stepped out, Daimon quipped, “You certainly know how to curry favor with Master Messias, even offering up your own mistress.”

With a smug smile, Moers replied, “Don’t misunderstand. She’s only there to assist Master Messias with his evening rest.”

Yawning, Daimon retorted, “Hypocrite. Enough chatter; I’m heading back. Inform me immediately if there’s any news.”

“Understood.”

After parting ways, Moers returned to his room.

Upon entering, he found the sultry Kikuji Himeyama sitting by the bed in revealing lingerie, idly watching TV. Seeing him enter, she immediately smiled ingratiatingly. “Welcome back, sir.”

Moers nodded, closing the door behind him.

Kikuji quickly approached, helping him out of his ceremonial robes to reveal the undershirt beneath.

Moers was pleased with her attentiveness. She was not only one of the converts he had introduced to the church but also his personal mistress. Of course, no more than three people were privy to this arrangement.

“Would you like a massage, sir?” Kikuji asked sweetly, hoping to please him.

“There’s no need,” Moers said coldly. “You will go to serve Master Messias immediately.”

At these words, a flash of fear crossed Kikuji Himeyama’s eyes.

Seeing her hesitation, Moers’s expression darkened. “What? Are you unwilling? Remember, serving Master Messias is an honor for you.”

“I understand. I’ll go right away,” Kikuji replied, reluctantly giving in, knowing full well he wouldn’t change his mind.

After she changed into the ceremonial robes worn by the faithful and left the room, Moers couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

He knew perfectly well why Kikuji was so terrified of visiting Master Messias. Though the master held great authority, age had taken its toll. He could no longer function as a normal man but instead derived pleasure from torturing women—particularly beautiful ones. Every time Kikuji returned from serving him, her body bore fresh wounds. Messias’s earlier insistence on sparing those meddlesome women was likely for the same sinister purpose.

Still, Moers saw it as a small sacrifice. If it secured Master Messias’s trust and favor, what did it matter if his mistress suffered? Shrugging off these thoughts, he turned off the television and prepared to sleep.

Just then, there was a soft knock at the door.

Could Kikuji have come back? Moers wondered, walking toward the door.

The moment he opened it, a figure lunged at him. Before he could react, a hand gripped his throat while another twisted his arm behind his back. The actions happened almost simultaneously, leaving Moers no time to process what was happening.

“Don’t move,” a man’s low voice ordered, using his foot to nudge the door shut.

Moers’s body stiffened in terror. He couldn’t believe this was happening in his own room—he had been overpowered by a man whose face he hadn’t even seen clearly.

He tried to speak, to ask what the man wanted, but the tight grip on his throat stifled any sound.

The intruder spoke again, his voice cold and commanding. “If you want to live, you’ll do exactly as I say. I’m going to release your throat now. If you make a sound, I’ll kill you on the spot. Understood?”

Moers nodded as much as he could manage within the limited range of motion allowed.

The man loosened his grip slightly but kept his hand on Moers’s throat, ensuring he remained subdued.

“Let me ask you something,” the intruder said. “Have you recently captured several women?”

Moers’s voice trembled as he replied, “Who… who are you?”

“Don’t waste my time. Answer the question.” As he spoke, the man wrenched Moers’s arm further behind his back.

In pain, Moers quickly responded, “Yes, yes, we did.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re in the basement,” Moers confessed.

The man’s expression remained unreadable, but he seemed satisfied. The answer matched what he had overheard earlier outside Master Messias’s room.

“Take me there. Now.”

“I… I understand,” Moers stammered.

They exited the room, walking side by side as if they were companions. But Moers was acutely aware of the knife pressed against his waist. He knew that any sudden movement would result in his immediate death. Each step forward sent a shiver through his legs.

The corridors were eerily quiet, the late hour ensuring that most of the church’s inhabitants were either asleep or stationed elsewhere. Aside from a few guards, they encountered no one.

Before long, they reached the basement.

From the outside, it looked no different from a storage cellar in a large estate. The interior appeared equally unremarkable at first glance.

But under the intruder’s watchful eye, Moers pressed a hidden spot behind the door. A series of mechanical clicks echoed through the air as an entire wall slowly descended into the floor, revealing a concealed chamber about ten square meters in size. At the back of the chamber, a staircase led deep into the ground.

“Move,” the man ordered, shoving Moers ahead of him toward the stairs.

As they reached the staircase, Moers subtly extended his hand toward a particular spot on the wall.

“What are you doing?” the man asked sharply.

“I just wanted to turn on the light,” Moers explained hastily.

“No lights. Keep moving.”

With no choice, Moers carefully groped his way downward.

The pitch-black environment, coupled with the presence of a man who could end his life at any moment, made Moers’s legs grow weak. Cold sweat dripped down his back. He couldn’t help but think that if this man killed him here, no one would ever know that the esteemed Moers, a respected deacon, had died in such a damp, dark place. If only someone else were with him, perhaps this man wouldn’t dare attack him. Regretting his earlier decision, he thought about how he shouldn’t have sent Kikuji to Master Messias.

As Moers’s thoughts wandered, they finally reached the bottom of the staircase.

“If you don’t want to die, hurry up and take me to the women,” the man said impatiently, irritated by Moers’s slow pace.

“I-I understand.” Summoning his courage for survival, Moers quickened his steps.

The secret underground basement was extensive, exuding an oppressive dampness and darkness that made it deeply unsettling.

Since Moers had personally designed and constructed this basement, he navigated the space with ease, even without lights, avoiding any obstacles. Meanwhile, the man noticed numerous iron-door rooms lining the corridor. He doubted they were for mere storage.

After about ten minutes, they arrived at a fork in the path. Moers turned a corner and stopped in front of a particularly large room.

“Are they inside?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Moers replied, pulling a card from his pocket. It looked like a credit card, and he inserted it into the reader on the iron door. Then he began entering a passcode on the keypad.

The man’s sharp eyes caught the sophistication of the electronic lock, as well as similar locks on the other rooms they had passed earlier. His mind turned thoughtful. The Andean cult clearly had far more resources than he had anticipated.

After Moers finished inputting the code, the door unlocked automatically.

When it opened, a faint, sour stench wafted out.

“They’re in the cage on the left,” Moers said, pointing to the side.

The man kept his grip on Moers and forced him to turn toward the indicated corner. Sure enough, there was a large iron cage, and inside were eight women.

In the dim light, the man saw that all the women appeared to be asleep. He carefully examined each of their faces, and soon, his eyes settled on the one he had been searching for. He sighed in relief.

“Why are they locked up here?”

“They were brought in by Master Messias. He said they’re spies sent by our enemies to investigate us. As for the specifics, I don’t know much.”

“All of them?”

“Y-Yes. No, wait. Three of them were captured because they meddled, trying to help an apostate,” Moers quickly corrected himself.

The man stopped asking questions. “Open the cage.”

Reluctantly, Moers retrieved a key from his pocket and unlocked the cage.

The sound of the lock opening woke one of the sleeping women. In the darkness, she vaguely saw two figures entering the cage. Immediately, she screamed in terror.

Her scream quickly woke the others. Some also began screaming, while others shrank into the corners, trembling. The scene descended into chaos.

“Quiet! I’m here to rescue you!” the man shouted.

“What? What did you say?” one woman asked, a mix of shock and suspicion in her voice.

“Is it true? Are you really here to save us?”

“Who are you?”

“Please, take me out of here! I beg you!”

The women bombarded him with questions and pleas, creating a cacophony of voices.

Annoyed, the man bellowed, “Shut up! If you want to get out, then be quiet immediately!”

At his commanding tone, the women fell silent, their fear compelling them to obey.