Healing System

"Excuse me?" Rebecca seemed shocked at the rudeness, but the glare Amanda had been giving off ever since appearing made her keep her thoughts to herself.

"You heard me, cultist. I'm only giving you a choice because you're related to Michael. If not, I would have killed you earlier."

'Amanda is being a bit insensitive, I would say,' Michael thought as he listened to the two converse. Their discussions ranged from arguments to disagreements, repeating endlessly with seemingly no middle ground.

Amanda was convinced Rebecca had secrets she was hiding—which, in truth, so did Michael. However, the way they were going about it seemed wrong—not like mature adults, but like two squabbling children.

It felt like the headache he had just gotten rid of was coming back. It sure was tough dealing with two hot-headed women...

Look on the bright side, uhh... Yeah, I don't know. Maybe try convincing Amanda to send Rebecca to the world you were in previously? It'd be a good idea to get the two of them to meet early on.

Michael listened to the system's antics with a confused look. 'What do you mean?'

The lovely Astraea and your adoptive mother meeting up, of course. What else?

'You... are special.' Michael was speechless at the system's comment. It was jumping the gun a bit too quickly.

But he could admit—Rebecca going to that world would be beneficial for her. After all, it wasn't the lowest-level world, meaning it was better than Verdusk.

At the same time, he wouldn't have to worry about Astraea being killed if Rebecca stayed by her side and helped her; it would put him much more at ease.

As Michael tuned back into the conversation, he noticed they still hadn't reached an agreement. Rebecca didn't like Amanda's attitude, and Amanda didn't like the fact that Rebecca was a cultist, even if it wasn't by her own choice.

He couldn't help but sigh and finally step in. Despite having no stake in the conversation, he figured it would be great if he could get things moving. What good would staying here for the next couple of hours arguing do?

"Amanda... please calm down for a moment. You too, Rebecca," he said, and for a single moment, a peaceful quiet descended.

However, it didn't last long. Just as he was about to speak again, the two of them went back to arguing about seemingly nothing new.

'Thoughts?' he helplessly asked the system.

Probably best if you just get out of here. People are taking pictures, and those in the flying structures are most likely videotaping this live. You're the saint, so it wouldn't look great if you're seen mingling with an Evangelist. Amanda can be written off as striking a deal. So yeah, in my opinion, go. They won't kill each other... most likely.

'You don't sound very convinced yourself, though.'n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Well, because I'm not. I don't know what's going on inside their brains. All I can tell you is how the public would see this. And from what you can already see—and hear—their conversation is going to be a stalemate for at least half an hour more.

'I guess you're right...' He glanced to the side and noticed they were still bickering.

Michael decided to hide his appearance further. Even with a mask, there was no guarantee no one would recognize him just by his stature alone.

He used his mana clothing ability to create extremely baggy garments—so baggy that people couldn't even tell where his limbs were.

At the same time, he made it long enough to stand on top of his sword, creating the illusion that he was taller than he actually was.

The two women glanced at him in confusion for a moment before resuming their not-so-heated discussion that had yet to reach a climax.

Michael didn't bother saying goodbye. He simply floated down and headed straight into a valley. After making sure no one followed him, he removed the baggy clothing and conjured a comfortable golden suit with a bit of a black outline.

He tried implementing colors in his mana, but it only half-worked—the coloring was uneven and all over the place.

Despite that, the golden suit made him look like a rich young lad with eccentric taste in clothing.

After tidying himself up, Michael headed straight for the Association's building. He had technically completed the request, even if there were some hiccups at the end.

But he wanted to receive the payment quickly. Who knew when the two women would finish their conversation and come find him? After all his hard work, he wanted a bit of free time.

You killed some cultists. Very hard work there.

'Yeah, and I used Sanctuary too. It took a lot out of me. I just want to go relax and have a bee—... some lunch.' Michael nearly slipped up. Despite how much time had passed, old habits died hard, it seemed.

Only a few other Michaels drank themselves to death. Technically, you're one of them too.

'...I'm not going to drink; I misspoke, is all.' He sighed as he arrived at the Association.

There weren't as many people crowding around as before; the commotion had worked in his favor.

He headed up the flight of empty stairs until he finally arrived at the reception desk, which was surprisingly vacant. The door leading to Rowan's office was slightly opened.

Michael took it as a sign to enter. Despite the field blocking sound from escaping, he sensed Rowan inside.

Taking another look around with his senses, he noticed the receptionist was somewhere in a room with a massive telescope that radiated a faint amount of mana through the walls.

Michael ignored it and went straight to Rowan's office. Without knocking, he opened the door. Rowan's expression was a stark contrast to the city's current situation.

Rowan stood up and immediately headed toward him. "Michael, boy! You're my golden goose!" He tried handing Michael a bottle of booze, which Michael ignored.

"Care to elaborate?"

"The stunt you pulled has forced the government to use more resources. That means we're going to be employed," Rowan said, his voice growing more excited.

"You know what that means, don't you? Money! A lot of money!" he shouted, laughing so loudly it felt like sandpaper scraping inside Michael's ears. But Michael let him have his moment—Rowan still owed him payment, after all.

When the laughter died down, Michael finally spoke. "Rowan, I'd like my payment on this card." He handed over his updated Vivum card. According to Amanda, it worked internationally, so it would be functional on any continent.

"Hmm? Sure, lad. Give me just a moment." Rowan took the card eagerly and walked over to his computer, typing in all sorts of numbers.

Michael thought he saw Rowan enter one too many zeroes but waited patiently nonetheless.

After a few moments, Rowan handed the card back to Michael. "There you go. The payment should arrive soon," he said, stretching out a hand for a handshake. Michael accepted.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Saint."

Michael smirked and nodded. "Likewise."

They chatted briefly until Michael felt his ID card vibrate, indicating the payment had gone through.

When he clicked on the card and saw the numbers, his eyes widened.

"This is...?"