Surviving World's End

the smug deacon (2)

Finally, after silently gritting his teeth, he spoke.

"I would prefer to receive the package personally."

The Deacon raised an eyebrow.

"I don't trust others handling mission-sensitive materials," Mark continued calmly. "My plans cannot be exposed under any circumstances. If possible, give me a time and location. I will retrieve everything myself."

For several seconds, the room remained silent.

Then an amused smile slowly appeared on the Deacon's face.

"Do you take me for a servant?" the old man asked lazily.

"You think I would sacrifice my rest for your convenience?"

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"This is also part of your evaluation. If you cannot build loyal subordinates or maintain operational secrecy, then you have already failed before the mission even begins."

The Deacon waved his hand dismissively.

"Now get out. Your package will arrive before dawn."

Mark gave a small nod and turned toward the exit without arguing further.

But inwardly, his thoughts had already begun moving rapidly.

Asking that question had never been about convenience.

It had been a test.

Mark had lived inside Shadow Mountain long enough to understand the personalities of the Grand Elder, the Council, the instructors, and especially the Deacon.

The selection of a new Shadow was the single most important event within the organization.

A Shadow was not merely an assassin.

The position represented future authority, leadership, and influence over the entire mountain. In time, a Shadow could even become the head of the organization itself.

Which meant something felt wrong.

Far too wrong.

The assassination of a mere Duke should not have been enough to determine the next Shadow.

Even a powerful Imperial Duke was insignificant compared to the true influence of Shadow Mountain.

To them, he was merely a politically important target.

Nothing more.

That realization alone told Mark the mission hidden beneath the mission was far more dangerous than anyone admitted openly.

And now, through the Deacon's reaction, he had confirmed something even worse.

There was a high possibility their identities and movements would be intentionally leaked.

Not only to rival candidates—

—but potentially to the Empire's intelligence agencies and even the Church itself.

Mark's expression darkened slightly as he walked through the corridor.

"These black-hearted old monsters…" he muttered inwardly.

"No matter what identity we choose, they were planning to expose us from the very beginning."

After several seconds of silence, a faint smile appeared on his face.

"Fine then," he thought calmly.

"Time for Plan B."

Behind him, the office remained silent for several moments after the door closed.

Then suddenly—

A concealed section of the bookshelf shifted open.

From the hidden compartment behind it, two figures emerged.

The instructor stepped out first, followed by the Grand Elder himself.

The instructor crossed his arms and looked toward the Deacon.

"You're making things unnecessarily difficult for the boy," he said.

"You could've simply agreed to his request."

The Deacon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

"I just felt like making things difficult for him," he replied shamelessly.

"That brat was acting far too confident. Those smug eyes practically screamed that he had already figured everything out."

A sinister grin spread across his face.

"Now he'll spend the entire night drowning in suspicion and paranoia. He might even lose sleep over it."

The Deacon chuckled darkly.

"Serves him right for trying to act clever in front of me."

The instructor stared at him speechlessly.

But beside him, the Grand Elder suddenly burst into hearty laughter.

The old man looked at the Deacon with amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You truly believe you taught him a lesson?" the Grand Elder asked.

The Deacon frowned slightly.

"What do you mean by that, Elder?"

The Grand Elder's smile widened.

"Unfortunately for you…"

"He was the one testing you."

The Deacon's expression froze instantly.

The room became silent.

"You just confirmed his suspicions," the Grand Elder continued calmly.

"By refusing his request so strongly, you indirectly revealed that there is indeed a possibility his identity and movements may be leaked."

The old man's eyes sharpened slightly.

"Not only to the other candidates…"

"But potentially to the Empire and the Church as well."

For the first time since the conversation began, genuine shock appeared on the Deacon's face.

Then slowly—

his expression darkened.

If news spread that a prestigious Deacon had been manipulated by a mere candidate, he would become the laughingstock of the entire mountain.

The instructor suddenly burst into loud laughter.

"Well done, Deacon," he said while pointing directly at him.

"You're getting old."

"Perhaps it's finally time for retirement."

The Deacon's face twitched.

Even the usually serious Grand Elder smiled faintly.

"I recommend eating more nuts," the old man said as he turned toward the hidden exit.

"They help maintain mental sharpness."

The instructor nearly collapsed laughing.

Meanwhile, the Deacon sat frozen in complete silence, already imagining how mercilessly the Elders would mock him once the story spread across Shadow Mountain.

The next morning—

Mark stood once again inside the Deacon's office.

The moment he entered, he immediately noticed the old man's unusually calm expression.

That alone made his instincts scream danger.

The Deacon opened a secured drawer beneath his desk and removed a sealed black envelope.

Inside were:

— a black passport

— forged identification cards

— banking credentials

— flight tickets

— coded contact instructions

— offshore account access keys

"Ten million dollars has already been transferred under the identity of Marcus Vale," the Deacon explained calmly.

"The flight departs tomorrow night from Blackwater Airfield."

Standing across the desk, Mark maintained a composed expression.

But inwardly, cold sweat had already begun forming on his forehead.

During the night, several rather unfortunate rumors had reached his ears.

Apparently, news of him "tricking" the Deacon yesterday had already spread throughout parts of Shadow Mountain.

Which meant one thing.

The fact that the Deacon was personally handling his preparations this morning was absolutely not a good sign.

Mark suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Still, he accepted the envelope without hesitation.

As he turned toward the exit, the Deacon spoke once more.

"Mark."

He stopped.

"You are either going to become the most dangerous Shadow of your generation…"

The old man's cold eyes sharpened.

"…or the greatest threat Shadow Mountain has created in decades."

Mark said nothing.

Then he walked out of the office without looking back.