Chapter 257: Purple Tail

The Soul Crow is known as the messenger of souls, and its mission is to take the deceased to heaven.

However, this soul crow suddenly began to doubt whether heaven was really as perfect as all living things expected. It even thought in a rebellious way: does heaven really exist?

Since there is heaven, where is hell? Who defines good and evil? Is Phaedra really in heaven now, enjoying the eternal happiness that she has not obtained in reality?

Standing on an old tree in the cemetery, Soul Crow pondered for a long time. Many questions kept emerging in his mind. Often, before a question had an answer, it was replaced by a new one.

It will not deny the fact that the Soul Crows were created by the Supreme Being; this is common sense engraved in their souls.

But the Soul Crows, although intelligent, seem to lack many emotions compared to humans. Could it be that this is all destined by the Supreme Being? It seems a little unfair.

The little Soul Crow emerged from the night and landed next to the Soul Crow.

"Inspector, are you leaving?"

Soul Crow nodded, and looked at the little soul crow with a more spiritual look in his eyes: "I have stayed here for too long, and my injuries have long been healed. It is time to leave and continue to perform the duties of the inspector."

"Does the Wise Crow know about what happened last time? Did it punish you?" Little Soul Crow asked with concern.

Soul Crow shook his head: "The Wise Crow should know what happened here, but it didn't stop me beforehand, and didn't blame me afterwards."

"Then we didn't make any mistakes!" The little soul crow shouted happily. Although it felt that it would not regret helping the inspector, it would be better if it could be sure that it would not be punished.

Compared to the little Soul Crow's innocent happiness, the Soul Crow felt that the Wise Crow should have the same emotions as it did, like humans. When it took him to the cemetery, it was probably to commemorate a deceased friend. It just didn't know if it had the same doubts as itself.

And has it ever received an answer from the Most High?

It doesn't dare to ask the Supreme Being, but it also wants to find its own answer: where is heaven? Does hell exist? Can emotions take root in the Soul Crow clan?

When the Soul Crow was lost in thought, the little Soul Crow took a serious look at the Soul Crow's tail feathers, which were still dyed purple, and asked curiously, "Hasn't the dye on your tail been washed off yet? Quack, it took a long time for those crows to replace their purple feathers. Every day, people gathered in the park to take pictures and eat all-you-can-eat French fries."

Soul Crow shook his head: "Purple is actually quite pretty. By the way, don't you have a name?"

"Do we Soul Crows need this kind of thing? I heard that humans only have names because they can't tell who is who, but we can recognize and distinguish all crows."

"It's convenient to have a name. From now on, you can just call me Ziwei. It's easy to remember."

The little crow looked at its tail feathers and nodded. It was indeed easy to remember.

What should I call myself, Blacktail? No, aren’t all their tails black?

"Well, goodbye. I hope that when I see you again, you will be an inspector." After leaving his blessing, Ziwei prepared to leave.

"Wait." Little Soul Crow hurriedly stopped and took out a golden chain with an oval pendant in the middle. "Look, this is a photo pendant I asked the human photographer to make. It was specially made so small. Xun Ziwei, you should be able to wear it. Just peck it like this and you can open it to see the photo inside."

Ziwei looked at the photo that was so miniaturized that it was almost unrecognizable, and the scene at that time automatically emerged in his mind.

This scene should be unforgettable throughout your life.

“That really means a lot to me, thank you.”

"That's great! Goodbye, I will work hard to become an inspector!"

Ziwei put on the necklace and flew into the sky. After circling the cemetery several times, she no longer lingered and left in a certain direction.

Gaul.

It was already late at night when Olivier finished processing a large amount of documents in the Palais de Delfort.

After handling the matter, he did not feel relieved at all. Instead, he felt that the situation was far more serious than he had imagined.

To be honest, these immigrant protests generally do not cause them any serious damage, let alone superficial injuries. They have their own ways to make up for it.

What he was more concerned about was that things seemed to be heading in a very bad direction, and there seemed to be some force behind it.

Of course, all of this was also based on the information provided by the Tower of Grace. It seemed that the remnants of the Demon Lord had set their sights on him.

The words "kill Olivier" had appeared before, but at that time they only found out that it was related to the Grace Warlock, and then nothing happened. It was not until the Heavenly Node appeared publicly and founded the Grace Tower that the Gallic intelligence agency determined that there should be a connection between the two, but he wisely did not mention it again.

There was a knock on the door, and from the frequency of the sound, Olivier could tell who was knocking.

"Please come in."

Abdul walked in with a file and said, "Sir, this is the information sent by Mr. Li from the Heavenly Node, which he sorted out based on the intelligence we provided."

Olivier took it and glanced through it quickly.

There was not much deviation from what he and the intelligence agencies had predicted. The people who were targeting him were most likely another group of divine warlocks belonging to the Soul Assembly. The most likely suspect was the Gaul codenamed "Heathcliff".

Olivier laughed at himself. He never expected that the people who were most malicious towards him were his own people.

"Thank you for your hard work, Abdul. I know there are some bad rumors out there now, but you can rest assured that such public opinion will not expand. You must believe that your work in the past few years has really helped many Gauls and safeguarded Gaul's international interests. Everyone can see this." Olivier's smile was as cordial as ever.

Abdul nodded: "Sir, I don't take it to heart. I believe that justice is in the hearts of the people."

Olivier laughed: "I like this sentence. Justice is in the hearts of the people. Don't be afraid of those rumors. The eyes of the people are sharp. We can't satisfy everyone at the same time, but we can do our best to make the lives of the majority better. History will prove this."

"However, in the investigation of the initiators, I have not yet found any traces related to the extraordinary. It may be that they are lurking too deep." Abdul reported.

"Even your ability can't find any clues?" Olivier groaned for a moment, "It doesn't matter. As long as they want something, they will be exposed. Keep monitoring them. However, you haven't been home for a month, right?"

Abdul was stunned and subconsciously calculated: "About five weeks."

"I know you love your work, but there is not only you in your family, but also your mother. She must miss you very much, and the phone can't solve the longing. Go back, I order you to take three days off and spend some time with your mother. Put your work aside for now. If possible, you can make an appointment with any lady. Don't be so rigid. Remember, you are a romantic Gaul." Olivier looked at him with a teasing look.

"But, in the current situation, your safety." Abdul didn't miss home, but he felt that Olivier's safety was challenged and needed his protection.

"I cherish my life, too. Believe me. I've already told the Grace Tower. They've sent three people to protect and assist us in our investigation. You can rest assured." Olivier's claim to cherish his life was not as convincing as the three Grace Tower warlocks. "Then I'll go home?"

"Go back, see you in three days, young man."

Abdul left the office in a daze and saw three strangers approaching.

One of the women, dressed as cowboys, looked him over and asked, "Abdul?"

"you are?"

Abdul had already guessed that the three of them should be the three divine sorcerers that Olivier mentioned.

"Just call me Cowboy." The cowboy raised his hat, smiled, and pointed at the other two men, "Macho and paparazzi."

Is this a team building event at the zoo?
The two men looked at each other helplessly and coughed lightly.

"Hello, Mr. Abdul. I've heard a lot about you. I'm Mosaic and he's the Hound."

I feel that it is not as good as the name that Cowboy just introduced.

It was the first time the few people met and they didn't say much. After exchanging names and code names, they said goodbye to each other and left.

Abdul returned to his office, arranged matters with his subordinates, and then left the Defort Palace, using his ability to quickly head home.

Soon, he was back in a mostly middle-class neighborhood.

To be honest, this community is not particularly suitable for his status and position. Even a few years ago, this house was something he would not have dared to dream of.

But he is already very satisfied. What’s more important is that most of the people living in the high-rise communities above are “locals”.

Abdul does not want to make such a distinction. To him, anyone who contributes to the country can be called a Gaul, regardless of whether he is engaged in low-end or high-end work.

But he also cannot deny that the current reality is that such a distinction exists. He cannot change people's perceptions in a short period of time and can only adapt to it.

Living here, my mother can at least find a few people to communicate with, so she doesn't have to be at a loss for words.

He told a few agents on duty near his home that they didn't need to come over for protection for the next few days. After all, if they couldn't even stop him, they would be of no use.

As soon as he reached the door, he could hear the sound of talking and laughing coming from inside, as if there were guests in his house.

He did not ask the agents about who his mother usually came into contact with, and if they found anything unusual, they would definitely notify him. Not notifying him meant that at least the other party had no problems with their background.

"Ah, this is..."

Abdul saw that the guest was a middle-aged woman who looked like an immigrant.

"Abdul! Why are you back?" the mother said in surprise.

"Come back and rest for two days." Abdul greeted, "Hello, ma'am."

After the woman knew Abdul's identity, her expression changed a little, she became much more reserved, and hurriedly said goodbye to his mother.

Abdul's mother did not stay long. She said a few words and then sent her out.

"Mom, is that the new neighbor?"

"No, you don't know because you don't come back often. She has always lived nearby, but we just met recently and found that we have a lot of common topics. Alas, she is also a miserable person. She finally moved to this community, but her husband died in an accident. At that time, she and her son who was studying were the only ones left in the family. She is also very capable. She relied on a compensation and a few jobs to settle down here. Now the child is in high school and his grades are pretty good. I guess she just wants me to help her child go to college."

There was nothing unexpected about Abdul. There are not so many coincidences in the world. After he became famous, he saw too many people approaching him for various reasons. Moreover, his mother came from a chaotic place like the slums, and her eyes were still vicious.

"Are you ready to help?"

"I've observed her and she's not a bad person. I can help her. And you probably don't know that she's also from the Levant. So we're from the same hometown."

Perhaps because she was getting older, she missed the place from which she had desperately escaped.

Time is truly magical. It can retain all the good things and leave only hatred, and it can also filter out all the unhappiness and filter out the good things of the past.

Abdul did not comment much on this. After all, he was very young when he left his hometown, and his memory was not very clear, or he subconsciously did not want to recall it.

"Mother, we are Gauls now."

"I know, of course I know, Gaul, Gaul." The mother forced a smile and nodded in agreement with her son without any objection.

"Do you want me to find someone to write a letter of introduction for her son? However, I need to see the kid's grades first." He has always been serious about this kind of thing. Even if it is not even a piece of cake for him, he does not want to introduce an uneducated person casually. Ruining his reputation is secondary. More importantly, he just doesn't want such a person to take up the position of others.

"It's not that troublesome. I'll help you. You're wasting your talent." The mother laughed and counted on her fingers. "Over the years, as your mother, the government has given me a lot of miscellaneous subsidies. I have also saved some money, enough to lend to her so that her son can go to college. He doesn't have to go to a famous school. As long as the scores and money are enough, it's fine. There's no need for a letter of introduction."

Abdul did not refute it, it was a fact.

His mother hasn't lent money to many people over the years.

Except for those who had helped them before, she had no intention of getting the money back after lending it out. And the fact was that after lending the money, the other party either disappeared or became more and more demanding. No one thought about paying the money back. They all seemed to take it for granted. Some even cursed at her if they couldn't lend the money.

There were even some black immigrants who came to him wanting to "take refuge" with him and become his helper or something. For this reason, he moved once, and then had no choice but to allow agents to conduct protective surveillance on his home.

I chatted with my mother for a long time, and when I saw that she was feeling sleepy, I took the initiative to end the topic.

"Let's go to the tower tomorrow morning."

Mother suddenly suggested.

Abdul was stunned but did not refuse.

Although that was where he became famous, it was also the place he least wanted to recall.

(End of this chapter)