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In the end, the Adjudicator managed to convince the beggar from the Mole organization that she truly was who she claimed to be. He took her to their leader, and she was escorted back into High Table territory.
Her condition was miserable.
But some things-some kind of presence-couldn't be faked.
After washing up and changing into clean clothes, she picked up her phone.
The first call she made-
"Eliminate the Moles who saw me," the Adjudicator said coldly. "They saw something they shouldn't have."
After the voice on the other end answered "Yes," she hung up.
She took several deep breaths.
It didn't help.
She had never encountered anything like this.
Never encountered someone like him.
How dare he treat her like that.
A High Table Adjudicator.
Rage burned in her chest, but she knew better than to contact the Elder in her current state.
After a long while, once she had barely regained some composure, she picked up the phone again.
It was late.
But this matter was far too serious.
Not just because she had been humiliated.
But because someone had dared to declare war on the High Table.
...
"Since all the bounty posters have been confirmed dead, and there's no one left to issue follow-up contracts..."
Winston looked at Eric.
"Congratulations, Mr. Eric. According to the rules, your bounty has been automatically canceled."
"Thank you, Mr. Winston," Eric said, clearly emotional.
As the chairman of a multinational corporation, he had seen many things.
But he had never experienced a thirty-minute, life-or-death assassination hunt on the streets of New York.
Surviving it left him shaken-and grateful.
"You don't need to thank me," Winston said, shaking his head. "Officially, I'm still just the manager of the Continental Hotel under the High Table. I simply followed the rules."
"The one you should truly thank is-"
"The Templar Knights," Morin said, entering the room. "Everyone played their part."
"Mr. Morin!" Eric immediately stood up.
The instinctive reaction surprised even himself.
After witnessing Morin's feats firsthand, respect came naturally.
Even if deflecting bullets with a wrench had been... difficult to process.
Eric pushed that thought aside and went straight to the point.
"No words can express my gratitude for saving my life."
He pulled a check from his suit pocket and handed it over with both hands.
"I sincerely thank the Templar Knights for upholding order. This is the reward I'm offering."
"...Oh my," Morin laughed. "Why so sudden? You're making it look like I only care about money."
"This is bad. Very bad~"
Winston watched from the side, lips twitching.
Could you at least stop reaching for the check while saying that?
What exactly do you mean by not interested in money?
Morin didn't care.
A person's reputation was the cheapest thing in the world.
Power mattered far more.
That was why he took the check.
Sixteen million dollars.
Sixteen million experience points.
Enough to immediately upgrade his Templar Knight class to Advanced.
Even if he didn't plan to open a new world yet, the new skills alone were tempting.
The Templar Knight class was the first to grant him magic-based abilities.
He couldn't deny his curiosity.
The moment he accepted the check, the contract finalized.
Morin's attention shifted to his class panel.
**[Advanced Templar Knight (590/10000)]
Title Bonuses:
1. [Advanced Knight Bloodline]
2.
3. [Advanced Stealth Skill]
4.
5. [Advanced Backstab Skill]
6.
7. [Sword of Eden] (Didn't expect this. I'm back.)**
8.
Morin: "..."
It wasn't the message at the end that stunned him.
Nor was it relief over no longer needing a wrench to block bullets.
To be fair, the wrench could change shape.
He just preferred its current form. Switching took time, and that was annoying.
No.
It was the Sword of Eden.
Wasn't that a divine artifact from the Assassin's Creed world?
Could something like that really appear through the system?
If that was possible...
Then what about the Apple of Eden?
That thing controlled minds.
Morin felt a flicker of caution.
He continued talking with Eric and the others while thinking.
Truthfully, he admired Eric.
A golden sheep-no, a remarkable man.
What Morin admired most was Eric's ability to speak "truth" with a straight face.
Morin had only demonstrated once how to frame actions as "protecting order."
After that, Eric had mastered it instantly.
Every transaction followed the same logic.
It made things very convenient.
"There's one more thing," Morin said to Eric. "I'd like to discuss it with you."
"Please speak, Mr. Morin," Eric said respectfully. "There's no need to discuss. Just give the order."
"Should I step out?" Winston asked.
"No need," Morin replied. "It concerns you as well."
He looked at Eric.
"Would you like to join the Templar Knights?"
"Yes," Eric answered immediately. "Without hesitation."
...
The Adjudicator sat on a luxurious sofa.
Her face was pale with rage.
Her voice, however, was steady.
Because the person on the other end of the line was the High Table's Elder.
"It's been handled," she said calmly. "There will be no rumors."
"The High Table's dignity cannot be challenged."
"Yes. I understand."
"I will investigate the Continental Hotel and the Hawkeye organization."
"Yes."
"Good."
The call ended.
The Adjudicator clenched her phone, malice flashing in her eyes.
She was in a very bad mood.
And bad moods needed an outlet.
She got into the private vehicle sent by the High Table.
Destination-
The Continental Hotel.
...
The Sahara Desert.
The Elder put down the phone, his expression dark.
The Fraternity of Assassins had just been destroyed.
Now trouble had erupted at the Continental.
Twenty percent of registered assassins lost.
If active assassins were included, the loss was even worse.
One the High Table couldn't easily absorb.
And all of it traced back to a single, newly emerged organization.
The Templar Knights.
"The file?" the Elder asked.
A servant handed him a stack of documents.
He read carefully, line by line.
Then he asked if there had been any other sightings.
This time-
He was taking it seriously.