A radiant young man dressed in white sat in a corner of a warehouse in the port.

He was extremely calm.

Within ten meters, there was no sound, as if everything had fallen into peace with his heart.

Yes, he was none other than Yare Villard.

Who was marked as a Disaster (danger) level by the Anti-Magic Bureau higher-level officials, and there were probably no more than twenty people in Beland who had this danger level.

Yare closed his eyes and kept his heart calm.

He was well aware of the movements of the seven A-level investigators of the Anti-Magic General Administration, which was why Quiet Words entered Beland during this time.

In fact, there were no A-level investigators sent to other cities or countries. They were still in Beland, excluding George, there were only two people, one of whom was the director himself.

The Director would not move easily.

So, the one responsible for hunting himself would likely be the other one. As for the B-class investigators, he had no idea how many would come this time.

He opened his eyes and said to himself, “If that guy is coming, it’s not easy to deal with either. I have to move quickly.”

Every A-rank investigator was a powerful existence.

Even now, Yare was uncertain whether he would have succeeded in killing George without the targeted relics.

Or the man killed them all.

Just wait a bit more until the boat comes, and he could go straight to the sea.

“For the time being, I have to leave Nolan and go to another country to hide for a few years, no, at least twenty years.”

If the Coronation Church’s pursuit was pressing, he would have to live in the vast evil land for a period of time.

Of course, he could think of anything that George thought of.

He also knew that this time the Quiet Word had already committed the wrath of the public, and Nolan’s top brass would take it extremely seriously.

“Just need to hibernate again. After all, I have a nearly infinite life span.” He said to himself with an evil smile.

Yare was actually the “Divine Son” of the Quiet Singer. More than a hundred years ago, he transformed into a special creature through a ceremony, through the gift of the Quiet Singer.

He was not exactly a human anymore.

The gift also gave him the special ability to avoid the detection of the Prophet and the Order Pointer within the Anti-Magic Bureau, and he went undercover for a long time.

Transcendent talent power or mysterious relics, those powers were ultimately no match for the Divine Gift.

At this moment, he suddenly felt the breath of an extra-worldly god!

With his eyes wide open, Yare directly rose straight from the spot and could no longer remain calm.

Quiet, everything was quiet, and there was clear and cool breath.

Within a second, his heart gradually calmed down, and his lust, thinking, reason…even ego began to subside a bit.

“The breath of Quiet Singer.”

After coming back to his senses, he really couldn’t understand how the breath of the Quiet Singer could appear here.

Let’s take a look.

After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to go to the source of the breath to find out.

As a priest of the Quiet Singer, the attraction of this scent was too great.

At this moment, he had no idea how wrong his choice was. He was like a cat-smelling catnip, actively and quickly approaching the source of the smell.

The drizzle was falling slightly outside the warehouse, and the machinery in the distance still roared.

It wasn’t until he arrived at another warehouse that he finally stopped, and that’s where the breath came from.

He scrutinized the warehouse, there were no goods in it, only a man stood under the stairs leading to the second floor. It seemed like he was waiting for his arrival.

As soon as he saw the other party, his eyes almost popped out of his socked and paralyzed to the spot.

The man in the warehouse was in his early forties, expressionless, with a disheveled and languid air. And he looked exactly as…

George!

Yare was startled, but soon he came back to his senses. No, it absolutely could not be George, because the man was already dead.

He had a hard time collecting his mind and carefully stared at the man in front of him.

The man with the appearance of “George” spoke unusually calmly.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

Yare’s heart hit a question mark, and he cautiously asked. “Who are you?”

Shen Yi’s appearance gradually changed, his height became slightly shorter, so his features began to adjust, and little by little he became the same appearance as Yare.

Yare frowned, looking at the man who was exactly like him, feeling a different kind of weirdness in his heart, as well as a strong inexplicable fear.

The man did nothing but just stood there with no expression on his face, with all in control of his eyes, as if looking down on himself from above.

Yare once again asked, “Who are you? Why are you waiting for me here?”

It was difficult for him to figure out the true identity of the other party, and he had never heard of any investigator who could change his body shape at will.

It was even less likely to be a member of the Corona Church because the breath of the Quiet Singer just now was real.

There weren’t many existences that could emit the breath of an extra-worldly god. Apart from the gods themselves, then their messengers and dependents.

The first answer was absolutely impossible, then the other party was most likely to be the messenger or family member of the Quiet Singer.

If that was the case, then it’s someone from the same camp as him.

After figuring this out with reasonable logic, Yare felt a lot more relaxed, and his heart was relieved.

He could never dream of the truth.

“Just as you thought, I am the messenger of the Quiet Singer.”

Shen Yi smiled. With his previous experience, he had already guessed how the other side was thinking. After all, Byron and Aina thought in the same direction of the path.

This was clearly in the realm of common sense in the inner world.

Since he could break out the aura of the quiet singer, while still standing in front of him in a mysterious manner, he could determine that he was a divine messenger.

It was difficult for ordinary people to escape from stereotyped thinking. As long as there was not a strong sense of “disharmony”, the “correctness” made up by the deceived person’s brain would not be torn apart.

They would think that the situation was the same as they thought and that they won’t even admit it when exposed.

Shen Yi calmly looked at Yare and spoke in a tone of no sorrow, no joy, no accusation, just stating the facts.

“You can’t have eternal peace of mind, Yare Villard.”