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"So you're a guest from beyond? A god?"
"Besides stealth, do you know other magic? Like flying?"
"And what does the Loom mean by 'each of us gets what we need'?"
...
Wesley, uncharacteristically, wasn't pestering Fox.
Instead, he crowded around Morin, firing off questions nonstop.
He couldn't help it.
Compared to women, the phrase guest from beyond hit far deeper in a man's heart.
And it wasn't just Wesley.
Morin noticed everyone else had gone quiet, ears pricked, afraid to miss even a single word.
A guest from beyond.
A Temple Knight personally acknowledged by fate.
Someone tasked with restoring order to the world.
Ever since leaving the Loom, their attitude toward Morin had clearly changed.
"I think you don't need to be this excited," Morin said, calmly analyzing the Loom's words.
"I am a guest from beyond, yes. But just like the Loom said, I'm here to restore order. Nothing more."
"So there's no need to get worked up."
"My purpose-my job-hasn't changed from what I told you at the beginning."
"But... he's a guest from beyond!" Wesley was still buzzing.
"Enough. Don't disturb the master's thoughts," Fox said, walking over and dragging Wesley away. "Come on. Tell me about the Temple Knights..."
Fox had clearly elevated Morin's status.
Even her form of address had changed.
More importantly, she was already considering joining the Temple Knights.
Even if Morin refused, she would probably try anyway.
"The word 'assassin' still exists," Fox said quietly, "but their name is dead."
"They no longer deserve fate's guidance."
Fox understood what that meant.
Fate was angry.
It had abandoned the assassins and chosen Morin-the guest from beyond, the Temple Knight-to restore order.
This was fate's new direction.
Naturally, Fox wanted to follow it.
For redemption.
For guidance.
Morin didn't dwell on that.
Right now, what mattered most was the information hidden in the Loom's words.
A guest from beyond... It knows I'm from beyond.
Is the system really that weak?
Looks like I'll need to be more careful.
"Each of us gets what we need..."
It wants order. I want experience.
Why does it even know that?
That was what truly bothered him.
Why did the Loom know something so private?
Was the system really so transparent?
That didn't match its functionality at all.
Morin thought for a moment.
Then set the question aside.
If this so-called fate could deal with him and wanted to, it wouldn't bother speaking.
It would have acted.
Something used by assassins for so many years-
It was likely all talk.
Little to no real combat capability.
With limited information, speculation was pointless.
"I'm going to see New York Governor Anderson," Morin said. "We reached an agreement before. It's time to fulfill it."
He looked at Wick.
"Wick, go to the New York Continental Hotel. Contact Mr. Winston. I have things to discuss with him."
Then he turned to Carlos and the others.
"As for the rest of you, figure out how to spread the word among the assassins."
"Get them to join the Temple Knights."
"Everyone."
"Get to work."
...
That night.
Anderson sat alone in his study.
The door and windows were open.
He turned the cross in his hand, unable to hide his excitement.
The Fraternity of Assassins had been wiped out.
He'd received the news at noon.
So now, he waited.
He knew Morin would come.
After keeping his promise, there was no reason not to.
At the same time, Anderson was considering his position.
What terms Morin might propose.
Where his own bottom line should be.
After all, erasing the Fraternity of Assassins in a single morning-
That alone earned Morin the right to negotiate.
They had been a top-tier underground force.
And they were gone.
Such power was beyond imagination.
An enemy of his enemy.
Natural allies.
If not now, then when?
Just as Anderson began drafting terms in his mind, he blinked.
A man was sitting on the sofa.
Calm.
Familiar.
Without a word, Anderson closed the study door.
Shut the windows.
Drew the curtains.
"You've arrived."
"I have."
"Then... shall we discuss our cooperation?"
You should've said 'you shouldn't have,' Morin complained inwardly.
Outwardly, he nodded.
"It seems you already know."
"With that much noise, how could I not?" Anderson replied. "Didn't you notice? Not a single police officer went to investigate."
"With your achievement, we now have the basis for cooperation."
"So."
"What kind of help do you need?"
"The High Table has operated in the underground world for years," Morin said. "Their network spans the globe."
"Different organizations. Different roles. Different people."
"With the government's hands-off approach, they've grown deep roots."
"That's because you've adopted defensive containment," Morin continued.
"I know you can't change that quickly. You're afraid of retaliation."
"So I only need one thing."
"Go on," Anderson said.
"Treat the Temple Knights the same way," Morin said.
"I don't need manpower. That goes against my principles."
"I only need you to ignore the conflict between the Temple Knights and the Continental Hotel."
"...That's it?" Anderson was stunned.
He had prepared himself for an outrageous demand.
"This is the minimum," Morin said evenly.
"We're fighting on the front lines. I can't have you stabbing us in the back."
"With the High Table's assassins around, I don't trust your people without a guarantee."
"As for anything else-money, manpower, authority-what can you really give us?"
The three questions left Anderson silent.
The threat of the High Table was real.
Even guaranteeing neutrality would require prolonged debate.
"I don't need anything else," Morin said, looking straight at him.
"I have my own methods."
"What I need is authority."
"I need you to give me access to your superiors, Mr. Anderson."
"This matter is no longer something you can handle alone."
"I need a guarantee from someone higher up."