Omega Manual

Omega Manual chapter 39

A Loud Abacus

The cold water caught Shelley off guard, sending a piercing chill through his bones.

It was midwinter, cold enough for hot water to quickly freeze upon hitting the ground.

And the inspector had inexplicably doused him with cold water?

Just as Shelley was about to react, Irey grabbed his hand. The inspector then took a cross from his clothes, traced it on his chest, recited a string of incomprehensible prayers, and finally touched Shelley’s forehead, saying in a voice full of compassion and pity, “God will forgive you.”

“Can we go now?” Irey asked.

The inspector nodded, still looking at Shelley with that same expression, “If you sincerely repent, God will…”

Irey pulled Shelley forward.

As soon as they passed through the city gate, Irey took off his coat and draped it over Shelley.

“Duhaatians believe that those who differentiate into Omegas carry original sin within them, sent by demons to corrupt the world and bring calamity,” Irey explained, roughly wiping the wet hair and cheeks of Shelley with his coat. “So, Omegas entering the city must undergo ‘purification.’ I forgot about this. Sorry, boss.”

Shelley looked at Irey in disbelief, “Original sin? Purification?”

Irey shook his head, “It’s pointless to argue with these people. Better to just get their damn rituals over with. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

The atmosphere in Duhaat’s lower town was very different from Leisau’s.

All the money in this city seemed to have been used to repair and maintain various religious buildings. There was a church or temple every two streets, a tiny prayer room every few steps, and statues of angels and gods everywhere, surrounded by offerings of food and fruit. Yet, the people on the streets were dressed in ragged, tattered clothes, clearly struggling to meet their basic needs.

Shelley later learned that if you asked these people, they would say that poverty was a gift from God, and only by abandoning all material needs could one achieve true happiness and peace. Therefore, whenever they had anything of value, they would offer it to the gods or donate it to the church, forever trapped in a cycle of unhappiness and praying to the gods for happiness.

But now, Shelley didn’t have the energy to worry about the beliefs of this foreign place. He had just walked five hours in the desert, spent twelve hours on a train, and finally got doused with cold water by the checkpoint inspector.

Now he was sore and achy all over, feeling like he would fall apart any moment if he took a few more steps.

“What do you say?” Irey looked at his boss, “Should we eat first or buy daily necessities?”

“Let’s find a place to stay first.” Shelley rubbed his sore waist, “I don’t want to walk anymore.”

Irey chuckled. Walking this distance or taking a train ride was quite ordinary for him, but for his boss who could get tendonitis just by pleasuring him, it was indeed a bit of a challenge.

Irey reached out and wrapped his arm around Shelley’s waist, firmly massaging his waist, “Duhaat is a pilgrimage city, there should be inns to stay, but the conditions might not be great, plus they believe in a minimalist lifestyle…”

“No inns.” Shelley was unusually firm this time, pointing in a direction, “That house, I want to buy it.”

Following Shelley’s gaze, Irey saw an extremely magnificent and exquisite two-story villa.

In such a poor and messy neighborhood, the existence of this building was strikingly out of place, conspicuously asserting its presence.

After inquiring, they found out that this was the residence of the bishop of Duhaat Cathedral.

The bishop was a Beta in his fifties. Even when receiving guests at home, he wore a solemn and gorgeous robe, with a long beard, looking like a wise elder.

Upon hearing their intention, the elder became extremely agitated.

“Nonsense! Shameless! Blasphemy!” He pointed at Shelley’s nose, his finger trembling incessantly, with an expression as if he was about to pass out from anger, “Do you know what this place is? This is where the messengers of God reside, it is a sacred abode! You actually want to seduce the archbishop with money…”

“I asked around, the price for renovating this villa was not even one million, with all the expenses included, let’s say it’s one million five hundred thousand.” Shelley said, “I can buy this house for three million, don’t you want to consider it?”

The bishop’s face was still red with anger, “You devil! Stop using your filthy money to corrupt people’s hearts! I am the bishop of the cathedral, the messenger of God, I will not succumb to your temptations!”

Shelley looked at him calmly, “I can double it, six million, full payment, to buy your villa. If you still think it’s not enough, then forget it, I’ll find someone willing to take this money.”

The bishop’s expression was as if he had swallowed an apple sideways, his eyes widened like copper bells, unable to speak for a while.

Shelley turned and walked away.

“Wait, wait!” The bishop hurried down from the steps, catching up with Shelley in two strides, his expression changed, anxiously rubbing his palms, “Full payment… Is it, is it true?”

Irey witnessed this absurd transaction throughout. The bishop’s attitude changed from being angry to hesitantly agreeing, then to completing the formalities. After six million in cash was transferred into his savings account, he looked excited and repeatedly confirmed the amount.

Later, when the bishop excitedly shook Shelley’s hand, sincerely saying, “God sees everything you do for the spread of righteousness, Mr. Shelley, a man with a beautiful heart, God will surely bless you,” Irey almost couldn’t help but laugh regardless of the atmosphere.

It seemed that whether it was a messenger of God or a follower, the degree of “evil” was determined by the benefits they received.

An hour later, the bishop happily moved out of the two-story villa with his luggage.

Irey got two sets of villa keys and closed the exquisite iron gate behind him, while Shelley leaned against a sycamore tree in the garden, looking at the deed in his hand with black and white writing.

“Six million.” Irey sighed and repeated this number, “Let me tell you, all the money the bishop had was donated by believers. This house, let alone one million five hundred thousand, he might not even consider fifty thousand. And you spent six million buying this rundown house from him.”

Shelley glanced at Irey, his eyes reflecting a clear blue under the sunlight, “Are you heartbroken?”

Heartbroken? This can’t even be described as “heartbroken” anymore!

Irey Halton had lived for twenty-six years and had never seen cash in four digits!

Six million was simply an astronomical figure for him, yet Shelley casually handed it over to a strange Beta old man in a city he didn’t know.

Irey felt that adjectives like “wasteful” and “outrageous” barely captured his current mood.

Perhaps sensing his mood, Shelley smiled and folded the deed several times, turning it into a paper airplane and throwing it out.

With just enough wind to push the paper airplane towards Irey, he frantically tried to intercept it, but it hit him square in the chest.

“It’s for you. A six-million-dollar house,” Shelley turned and walked into the house, yawning as he went.

Irey couldn’t help but feel amused, “Tsk,” he muttered, flattening the paper airplane and carefully tucking it into his pocket before following Shelley inside.

Although he said it was a rundown house, it was actually quite luxurious inside.

The interior decor retained many religious designs, tall Roman columns stood in the center of the hall, and on either side of the walls made of white marble were statues of two small angels. The sofas were covered with fine silk, and a spiral staircase made of solid wood led to the second floor.

A phonograph was still playing music, and on the dining table was a plate of half-eaten pineapples.

It was hard to imagine how the bishop amassed so much wealth in a destitute place like Duhaat.

Of course, even more unimaginable was that there was someone who had much more wealth than him, who could buy this villa at four times the price without even batting an eye.

And this person, after entering the house, didn’t even look around, but went straight upstairs and collapsed on the bed, motionless as if the power had gone out.

This bedroom was larger than the two bedrooms they had in their house in Leisau combined. The wooden floor was waxed and shiny, the bed was not yet made, and Shelley lay on the snow-white mattress, his hair tie lost somewhere, his golden hair spread out like waves on the bedhead.

It was evident that this usually pampered boss was truly exhausted from the journey.

Irey knelt beside Shelley, using the palm of his hand to find the muscles and tendons in his back and waist, pressing them from top to bottom. Shelley let out a satisfied hum from his throat, indicating for him to continue.

“Feels good?” Irey asked.

“Feels good,” Shelley’s voice was intermittent, enjoying it, “A little lower, no, more towards the middle.”

Irey leaned down, massaging as Shelley directed, teasingly leaning close to his ear.

“Boss, what’s your ATM password? Tell me, I’ll remember it for you so you don’t forget one day.”

Shelley chuckled, shivering under Irey’s touch, letting out a few more hums. “Making quite the deal out of it, aren’t you?”

“Of course not,” Irey shamelessly replied, “It’s what your personal bodyguard should do.”

As Irey spoke, he continued to apply pressure with his hands. Whether he hit a sore spot or not, Shelley squeezed out a strained groan from his throat.

The atmosphere immediately became ambiguous, heat rising around them.

Shelley turned over, facing him. His golden hair tangled around Irey’s fingers, his clear blue eyes half-closed, showing deliberate, languid vulnerability.

He lifted his hand, hooking it around Irey’s neck, whispering lowly in his ear, “I’ll tell you when we get to Mount Yinbu.”

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