The recent skirmish, though intense, concluded swiftly. By the time Wade Winston and Jack Arnold departed the mansion, a tardy Evans finally arrived at the scene.
"Master!" Evans exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock as he surveyed the ravaged bedroom.
"What happened here?"
"Zanoni had hired a bodyguard for his protection—a rather capable 'sorcerer'," Lorien replied nonchalantly.
"Did Elder Arnold engage this 'sorcerer'?" Evans's pupils contracted, regretting the time he had squandered dealing with the guards.
"No, it was I," Lorien said casually. "The sorcerer Zanoni employed was quite formidable... slightly more powerful than Arnold in his current state. He couldn't handle it."
What?!
Evans's breath hitched. The Master had personally dealt with a powerful 'extraordinary being'?
Scanning the room, Evans noted the extensive damage—scorch marks and holes marred the walls, remnants of intense combat. He had sensed the sporadic flashes of blinding white light and violent sonic booms even before reaching the mansion.
He had assumed it was Jack Arnold battling the adversary; little did he know the Master had intervened personally, deeming the opponent 'quite formidable.'
No, the Master's 'quite formidable' likely pertains to us mere mortals.
Evans's eyes gleamed with fervor. The time from the onset of combat to its conclusion hadn't exceeded five minutes.
This meant the Master had effortlessly vanquished a 'sorcerer' more potent than Elder Arnold!
And this was merely a trivial 'consciousness' of His... Even though Evans had transitioned from initially 'worshiping power' to 'worshiping the devil itself,' he couldn't help but feel exhilarated and zealous about the Master's immense power.
This is the 'Great Devil' our 'Ordained Cross' venerates!
Noticing Evans's mind wandering again, Lorien cleared his throat and asked, "What's the situation outside?"
"Uh..." Evans realized he had drifted off in the presence of the 'Great Devil,' and hastily reported,
"The guards outside have all been 'neutralized' by us; it should be some time before anyone notices anything amiss. Additionally, there are servants residing in the mansion, currently under the control of two senior members."
"Good," Lorien nodded approvingly. "Well done."
As Evans's face lit up with joy, Lorien continued,
"Now, there's another task for you."
"Your command!"
Lorien gestured toward the unconscious young model outside.
"Take her to join the others. Then, organize a search of the mansion; collect all valuable and portable items to fund our organization's development."
Finally, it was time for the much-anticipated 'house raid' segment.
Though it might seem unethical, not something a 'righteous person' would do, Zanoni himself hadn't objected, implying tacit approval.
"Understood."
After Evans departed, the ever-composed Marilyn returned.
"Master," she greeted softly, hesitating before reporting, "Zanoni is dead."
"I see."
Lorien showed little interest in the matter, instead assigning Marilyn another task.
"Gather the bodies in the mansion and leave the name 'Jack the Ripper.'"
The battle scars in the bedroom were too conspicuous to erase. After an investigation, the police would undoubtedly escalate the matter, eventually reaching Scotland Yard.
Having one's mask torn off is a form of defeat; removing it oneself is a victory.
Since exposure was inevitable, it was better to be flamboyant from the start, seizing as much notoriety as possible to bolster strength.
After this incident, Scotland Yard would realize that 'Jack the Ripper' wasn't a lone wolf but a member of a secret society.
The 'Ordained Cross' risked further exposure, but the substantial fear and notoriety gained would compensate for this... Lorien pondered, ensuring nothing was overlooked, before dismissing Marilyn to her duties.
"Alright, proceed."
"Understood." Marilyn responded softly, turning to leave Zanoni's bedroom.
Scotland Yard, extraordinary beings—what a nuisance... Lorien found a relatively intact chair amidst the wreckage and sat down.
Ten minutes later, a shadowy figure slipped into the room.
"Master."
The solemn-faced Jack Arnold emerged from the shadows.
Moments later, Wade Winston, carrying a briefcase, clambered in through the window.
"Hey, why the rush?" He panted. "I don't have the convenience of your 'spells.'"
Catching his breath, he approached with the briefcase, opening it before Lorien.
"Here, count it yourself—£5,000, not a penny less."
Lorien glanced at the briefcase, filled with grayish-white