The Rajasthan sun felt like a scorching copper plate inverted over the parched earth. Heat waves distorted the air, making the atmosphere feel as thick and heavy as syrup.
Vesper walked through this swelter, a moving shadow in his signature black. His appearance, entirely lacking any sense of local coordination, made him look like a drop of ink accidentally spilled onto a vibrant oil painting.
"Whew, it's really hot~ Say, Vesper, wrapped up that tight... aren't you afraid of the heat?"
"You think I'm doing this for fun?"
Vesper's voice came through the black mask—which looked practically welded to his face—carrying a trace of irritability steamed up by the high temperature. Even though he had accepted this commission from the Puritans, the harsh conditions on-site were far worse than expected.
"You remember I'm a 'spiritual item artisan,' right? If it weren't for—"
"Hey, Vesper, what's this?"
"Tch..."
As the primary executor of this mission, Theodosia seemed to have completely tuned out Vesper's complaining. She was currently eyeing a roadside stall selling copperware with great interest.
Her gold-and-silver hair was blinding under the intense light. Dressed in a loose white top, light-blue jeans, and a straw hat she'd picked up from some stall, she genuinely looked like a tourist who had wandered into the wrong place. Well, assuming one ignored the "anomaly" that was Vesper.
"To be honest, I still don't get why they didn't just mobilize the local magician squad from St. Mary's to check things out. Why make two 'outsiders' like us fly out here personally?"
Vesper tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over a few local youths leaning against a corner with clear hostility in their eyes.
"As long as their brains haven't been pickled in Ganges water, there's no way they'd think we look like tourists here for sightseeing and shopping... well, at least I don't."
Vesper sighed, looking at Theodosia's outfit. He couldn't fathom why Necessarius would send this flighty woman to such a sensitive region.
"What about the local 'civil servants'? Sipping afternoon tea in their cathedral? Is your cultural output targeting the wrong demographic?"
Theodosia pulled her gaze away from the copper pots and waved a hand dismissively with her usual optimism—an energy that felt almost uncharacteristic for her age.
"Relax Relax"
Her voice was full of energy, seemingly unburdened by the heat or the hostility.
"Rajasthan might be independent in name, but in practice, it's still one of the traditional parishes under our Puritan jurisdiction."
She lowered her voice slightly with a "you know how it is" smirk. Even though the ambient noise was so loud that no passerby could possibly overhear, she still leaned in for the sake of secrecy.
"You think the English Puritans and Roman Orthodox would really give up a 'good place' with low education but a massive population? There are plenty of under-the-table maneuvers; the missionaries are quite industrious~ So, it doesn't matter if the locals see us. They have a general idea of what's going on."
"Eh..."
Vesper had always known this, but discussing "secret intel" like this in the middle of a public street was bizarre. Despite having worked with her before, it was still hard to believe this woman in her late thirties had been an active front-line member of Necessarius for nearly twenty years without losing any "parts."
"Besides," she continued, "with a commotion this big, even the stupidest layman wouldn't think they could get away with it. Us coming here so openly is actually a message to the 'locals.' We're here to handle the 'problem.' The English Puritans operate in the open."
Vesper's gaze lingered on Theodosia for a moment. Her words revealed a certain conviction regarding the Puritans' influence here and a matter-of-fact attitude toward handling the situation.
"Sigh, whatever..."
He let out a barely audible grunt, uncharacteristically refraining from immediate rebuttal. He begrudgingly accepted the explanation; at least her logic seemed clear this time.
Of course, this illusion of "reliability" lasted only about three seconds before the next question stabbed it back into reality.
"So..."
Vesper's tone relaxed a bit as he began scanning the streets like Theodosia, trying to find some local spices to take back as materials.
"Since this is a place where multiple factions are struggling behind the scenes, we should have cleared our mission with the local Roman Orthodox forces stationed here, right?"
He continued walking, his eyes casually grazing the silhouette of a building with a spire and a distinctly Western style at the end of the street.
That should be their destination: St. Mary's Church. Built during the British colonial period in the nineteenth century, it had stood for over a hundred years. The fact that it was still so well-maintained suggested the Puritans were living quite comfortably here.
"Since everyone is proselytizing here, problems within respective 'zones' are handled by those in charge—minding one's own business... there should be that kind of basic understanding, right?"
"Uh..."
A short, blank syllable came from beside him.
Vesper stopped in his tracks and turned his head. Theodosia stood frozen as if struck by an invisible club. The relaxed expression on her face had vanished, replaced by two words written in bold across her features: "I'M SCREWED."
Her mouth hung slightly open, her composure replaced by a look of sudden realization, as if Vesper had just reminded her of something extremely important she had left in some forgotten corner of her mind.
Vesper felt his lip twitch uncontrollably, tightening the edges of his mask. The shred of affirmation he'd just felt for her "rare reliability" crumbled into dust, blown away by the hot Rajasthan wind.
As expected, that feeling of reliability was a total hallucination. Her "unreliability" was the only constant in the universe...
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