After discussing the secrets behind the extraordinary, Henwell hesitates before asking, “Newwood, have you always been a lone wolf? Haven’t you ever built up your own faction?”

  Newwood tosses a poisoned dart to Henwell. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

  Henwell rubs his hands nervously. “You know, I’m about to get married. A lot of people won’t openly cause trouble, but behind my back, plenty want to see me humiliated. I’m weak compared to those established powers, and I don’t have enough security personnel, especially top-tier fighters.”

  ”Borrowing from others? That’s not only unreliable but also embarrassing for me. Since we’re colleagues, don’t let me lose face with the boss! Just send me some experts—no need for too many—say a hundred or so Grand Knights.”

  Newwood spits. “Pfft! Where am I supposed to find that many Grand Knights? Plus, my people aren’t even on this continent; they can’t get here anytime soon. I’ll stick around for two months as your bodyguard, but you better get me some explosives!”

  Henwell ughs awkwardly. “Can you not be here? I’m worried the Holy Spirit Church will misunderstand. After all, I’m a righteous Padin, but you’re a thug everyone wants to hunt down. Our styles are completely different. If people see us together, it’ll look really weird!”

  Newwood gres wide-eyed. “You ungrateful jerk! You even look down on me! If I hadn’t had your back, do you think I’d be wanted across the continent?”

  He waves his hand dismissively. “Fine! I’ve trained some people in Ogiro, but they’re not fully formed yet. I can lend you some for a while: thirty Battle Knights and a hundred or so regur knights. My guys are all on other continents, and getting them here is a pain. Guardian City’s teleport inspection is way too strict, and sneaking in is tough.”

  Henwell is stunned. It’s only been a short time!

  Newwood arrived on this continent trailing Archbishop Atwood and the others—at most two years ago.

  Yet in just those two years, Newwood has already assembled an elite core team.

  A hundred or so people might not mean much on the Abundant Continent, but here, they’re a formidable fighting force.

  They’re not far behind the Western Federation’s two top hunting squads.

  If Newwood stays here a few more years, he could easily build a terrifyingly powerful armed force.

  Henwell asks one more question, “Who exactly are these people? Should I arrange identities for them?”

  Newwood shakes his head. “No need. They all make a living by the sea. They’ll come here posing as caravan guards. When the time comes, have your men get in touch with them. I’ll brief them to follow your orders.”

  “Pirates?”

  “Tch! Why do you have to put it so harshly? They’re all brave adventurers of the sea!”

  Henwell looks worried. “Whether adventurers or bandits, these people live for profit. Can we trust them? If anyone finds out about your connection to me, it’ll be trouble. I’d become an enemy of the continent.”

  Newwood scoffs. “Heh… Little Henwell, why do you still underestimate people? You think you’re the bad guy? You’re nowhere near as bad as me. If I’m willing to send them, I guarantee they’re trustworthy. Maybe you don’t understand our system. We’re pretty lenient with our subordinates, except when it comes to betrayal. Everyone knows that for a traitor, death is just the beginning, not the end.”

  Henwell decides to trust Newwood. If he can’t trust this guy, then no one on this continent is worth trusting.

  Then Newwood’s expression turns serious. “Henwell, I’ve got another mission for you this time.”

  Seeing Newwood so unusually solemn, Henwell’s heart skips a beat, and he straightens up immediately. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  Newwood stands up and says, “Selector4903, you have a new task assigned!”

  Hearing that familiar code, Henwell freezes for a moment before suddenly leaping up from his seat. “What mission?”

  Newwood pulls out a glowing badge from his pocket. The emblem shows two hands csped together, not a simple handshake, but one hand above pulling the other upward.

  “Selector4903, you’re ordered to support a fellow selector from your cohort!

  World coordinates: (432,1011)!

  Number 27!

  Earth-Moon system, Eastern Continent, Tudor Dynasty.

  Support target selector number 7027, self-named Lucy!

  Mission type: armed support, high personal combat focus, jump target one!

  You may bring your own weapons and gear but no living beings other than selectors!

  Besides your personal armaments, you may carry items not exceeding your own body weight!

  Mission starts upon receipt of order. Departure in thirty standard hours. Prepare for support!”

  After finishing, Newwood looks at Henwell’s stunned face and grins. “Hey, little Henwell! You’re going on a business trip!”

  Henwell scratches his head. “What’s going on? Why didn’t they notify me directly and instead sent you to deliver the message?”

  Newwood shrugs. “No idea! They just told me to pass it on. Maybe you’re special, could be the chosen one, the protagonist of some novel!”

  Henwell rolls his eyes. “What does this mission even mean?”

  “Wasn’t it clear? You’re going to support that Lucky. She might be in trouble, and she’s valuable enough for the higher-ups to intervene personally.”

  “It’s not Lucky! It’s Lucy!”

  Henwell corrects Newwood’s pronunciation. He knows this Lucy. She’s a member of their chat group, the one who sent the earliest voice messages. This woman somehow always stays one step ahead and often flirts with the group members.

  Henwell tries to check the chat group ,but finds it temporarily banned; he can’t even ask what’s going on. Still, the group confirms the mission, though without such detailed information.

  Feeling nervous, Henwell asks Newwood, “Thirty world hours, is that thirty hours?”

  Newwood grins mischievously. “Thirty days, actually!”

  Henwell’s eyes widen. “That’s three days before my wedding! All the important guests will be there. Am I supposed to go fight in another world as the groom?”

  Newwood shrugs. “Rex! I’m sure the higher-ups considered that. Maybe by the time you’re back and forth, only a second passes here!”

  Henwell snaps, “What if it takes years there?”

  Newwood points at himself. “That’s why I’m here! If you don’t come back for a long time, I’ll py your role here.”

  Henwell’s vein throbs in frustration. “Damn it! I’m getting married! You’re going to pretend to be me as the groom?”

  Newwood scoffs. “Only you could like that girl. You have such strange taste, really embarrassing us time-travelers and reincarnators! Don’t worry, I won’t do anything. Besides, the time won’t be long. From what I know, these special missions lock the world’s time flow. They won’t let you disappear for too long. Your task here in our world is just as important.”