Chapter 1365: Chapter 1365

Outside the door, the three eavesdroppers held their breath. They had all heard the words "Tree House."

"Corey Wilson, for your family's sake, do you have any idea how many people you'll kill by doing this? Do you know what will happen to our country?"

The speaker's voice grew agitated. Jenkins understood the feeling and felt a deep sense of sympathy for him.

"Nothing will happen. As long as we pledge allegiance to the Cheslan Kingdom, everything I've done is to bring honor to our nation. Don't forget, the Ancient Ao Principality is caught between two kingdoms, and Fidektri has never granted us the authority we deserve. Cheslan has wanted to win us over for a long time."

The ambassador declared, his voice firm and resonant.

"Damn it, Wilson! Besides that organization called the Tree House, were you bought out by Cheslan spies a long time ago?"

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He replied in a voice devoid of emotion. After his words, the room fell silent for a long time.

Outside the room, the silence stretched on as well. The three of them had expected some shocking conspiracy to overturn the world, but this turned out to be a sensitive political matter—something they had no business getting involved in.

"That was a silenced pistol."

The thought flashed through Jenkins's mind. He glanced at his companions. Mr. Hood clutched his scarecrow, and Mr. White Cat drew a pistol from his waist.

"There's no other way now. We're already here, might as well..."

He drew his own pistol, holding it in his right hand while using his left to signal a countdown to the other two: three, then two, then one.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!"

The door was thrown open, and the three men burst in like a band of robbers.

The room was a study. The curtains were drawn tight, but with two gas lamps on the side walls and a kerosene lamp on the desk, the space wasn't too dark.

A man with curly brown hair sat on the sofa, head down, cleaning his pistol, showing no reaction to the intruders. Behind the desk, another man was slumped back in an imposing armchair, a conspicuous, bloody hole in the center of his forehead.

"Hands up! Drop the weapon!"

Mr. Hood snapped in a low voice, though his own image—clutching a scarecrow—was somewhat out of place in the current situation.

"Drop the weapon, now, or we'll shoot!"

Mr. White Cat echoed the demand, his voice betraying his nervousness. It was probably the first time he had ever threatened a foreign envoy.

"You heard them! Do it, or we won't be so polite!"

Jenkins added, and the cat on his shoulder chimed in with a meow.

Hearing the cat, the man on the sofa finally looked up at the three of them, his expression one of astonishment, as if he were seeing monsters. He had anticipated that someone would burst in, but he had not expected three characters like these.

"You're... not the police?"

The man on the sofa stammered, then let out a heavy sigh. He complied with their demand, gently placing the pistol on the coffee table in front of him.

"Just ask what you want to ask. As long as it doesn't involve matters of principle, I can answer. If it does, you might as well just kill me... So, who sent you?"

"You're the one answering our questions, not the other way around. First, who are you?"

"I can't answer that question."

"Based on what we overheard, he's probably another spy sent here by the Ancient Ao Principality, so it's understandable he won't reveal his identity."

Mr. White Cat whispered, and Mr. Hood nodded, accepting the explanation.

"Alright then, Mr. Spy. Our objective and our questions are simple. We just want to stop the disaster unfolding outside. Do you have any plans or intelligence related to those strange aberrations?"

Although he asked politely, his companions' guns never wavered.

"Since you've already heard everything, don't bother asking about my identity... And don't ask me about supernatural creatures, either. I only just arrived in Nolan by train two hours ago, specifically to take care of this audacious fool. I know nothing about what's happening here."

"So, you're completely useless to us?"

Mr. White Cat threatened.

"I have no quarrel with the people of Nolan. If I knew anything related to that, I would tell you. But the fact is, I truly know nothing. I'll say it again: my sole purpose in coming here was to deal with him."

The man on the sofa gestured toward the late Ambassador Wilson, whose eyes were still open in death.

Seeing the displeasure on their faces, he quickly added:

"He may be dead, but he must have kept important documents and letters somewhere. As it happens, I also need to find a certain letter to take back with me. Why don't we look together?"

"We're not letting you off that easily. Think you can just walk away? You've committed murder on our soil, a violation of the laws of the Fidektri Kingdom. You can wait to be handed over to the police."

After securing the man on the sofa, the trio began to search the study. They did find a hidden compartment behind a bookshelf, but it contained no information about the aberrations. If not for what they had overheard outside, even Mr. White Cat would have thought he had made a mistake.

Fortunately, they had better luck in the bedroom. The space under the bed was solid, but after violently smashing the nightstand, they discovered a complex mechanical device. It was a sophisticated locking mechanism; one wrong move, and the contents within would be instantly shredded by adjacent blades into irrecoverable pieces. Extracting the letters took considerable effort.

Most of the letters pertained to espionage. The three men skimmed through some of them, marveling that even a small principality could be involved in such complex operations. There was also correspondence with the aberrations, including the threats from the Tree House they had heard mentioned.

However, it turned out that the ambassador's wife and son were not being coerced. They were true believers in the Tree House, convinced that the organization was the only one that could properly guide the future of the material world.

The operational plans for the aberrations—the very thing the trio was searching for—were hidden in a false bottom of an unremarkable envelope. Mr. White Cat was quite skilled at handling such hidden documents, and in a few deft moves, he extracted the paper intact.

Mr. Hood was the first to examine the document. As he read, his brow furrowed.

"Mr. Candle's suspicions were correct. They do have a backup plan besides connecting to the Mysterious Realm. Look here..."