Sandora and I hurried to Silvia’s sweet shop, where she was busy tidying the counter. It seemed a batch of customers had just left, as there were homemade tools used for dessert-making on the workbench near the counter. The tools hadn’t been cleaned yet and were smeared with brightly colored jam. Despite the calm atmosphere often lingering around Silvia’s little shop, it was never completely devoid of customers. The mass-produced Bubbles from the barracks and the Sister Misakas just a few streets away, along with an increasing number of naughty kids from the Imperial Military Academy due to the Macro World development, were loyal patrons of this Forbidden Zone Store. Though not numerous in customers, they brought a bit of fame and popularity to this wonderfully located shop, ensuring Silvia didn’t have to rely on welfare to eat. Usually around ten in the morning is when the mass-produced Bubbles from the barracks switch shifts, and at this time Silvia’s shop would always welcome several waves of Xyrin Hosts. These mass-produced hosts lead simple lives, and despite having developed a fancy for "sweets," they only came here to choose the cheapest cakes or candies. I’ve often seen mass-produced machines waiting by the counter for Silvia to wrap up some of the most basic white cream cakes, but today’s situation seemed a bit different—tools used for on-the-spot dessert processing were on Silvia’s workbench, and she’d used the best jam. Clearly, a major project had just been undertaken. As for how I determined it was the best jam—had I not been holding tight, Sandora would have already dashed up to gnaw the counter clean. "Yo, looks like business is good today?" Originally, I intended to summon Bellavilla to discuss matters, but upon entering the little shop, my impatience instantly calmed down—except that Sandora, seemingly reincarnated as a starving ghost, was progressively restless. I greeted Silvia leisurely: she’s quite a remarkable girl, surrounded by an almost law-level tranquility halo. I’m fully convinced that if she stood on the Pacific Ocean, the global monsoon the following year might halt... "So-so, quite a few mass-produced hosts came and specifically requested the best decorated cakes, even writing words with jam on them. I was busy for half a day to get it all done," the silver-haired girl quickly tidied the counter and casually placed those small tools into her Personal Space, speaking rapidly like popping beans, then poured herself a cup of water and gave us a bright smile, "I’m Bellavilla—surely you know about Silvia, once she finishes making twenty-person refined cakes, those mass-produced machines might nearly starve to death. As soon as guests came, she asked me for help." The steadfast Sandora immediately composed herself, attempting to look dignified, assuming the posture of a diplomat ready to meet hundreds of ambassadors, sitting in her usual spot, and nodded slightly at Bellavilla—I couldn’t bear to watch anymore, could you spare a glance away from the counter? "Alright, alright," Bellavilla, as if she’d practiced hundreds of times, swiftly took out a heap of ready-made pastries from behind the counter and transported them directly in front of Sandora, "I saw you as soon as you walked in, so why pretend now? The three of us are emperors... well, although I’m retired." "To be honest, if you were willing, Sandora and I would immediately offer you a troop and a pile of colonies, the Empire is desperate for hands now, we’d love to have a skilled worker like you to help share the burden." I spoke with utmost sincerity, without a hint of falsehood: the Empire’s leadership was constantly short-handed, the colonies were expanding rapidly, the worlds directly controlled by the Empire were closing in on double digits (aside from highly developed worlds like the Civilization Community and new Universes detected by the Command Center, rich in resources and low in overall civilization levels, they’ve been classified as Empire controlled areas). Moreover, there were still vast troublesome matters to address once the Empire revived; combining Sandora and I could only count as one and a half troops—Sandora’s extraordinary performance counts as one and a half, allowing me to conveniently round off... Under such circumstances, having a former Imperial Emperor familiar with the Empire’s affairs with ample experience in governance would be a godsend. Bellavilla seemed to perfectly fit the bill, though she used to be a Fallen Apostle, I wasn’t worried about that—Sandora was still partly an Abyss Creature, and I had great confidence in my halo. "No, I’ve just started enjoying such a leisurely life, opening a shop and selling sweets and candies near the barracks is quite fun," Bellavilla quickly waved her hand as I anticipated, "Moreover, neither you nor Sandora can accept an emperor who takes six days off every week, can you? Don’t forget my master persona is now Silvia, she wants to wield great power..." I thought for a moment, shivered uncontrollably: "Perhaps somewhat like Qianqian’s Time Freeze effect." "Alright, let’s drop this topic—I assume you came to find me at this time for some significant matters, right?" Bellavilla eyed Sandora sharply, "After all, it’s still a while till lunchtime." Getting nervous, Sandora was visibly defensive, staring back at Bellavilla, who fearlessly returned her gaze. I noticed, as her soul gradually recovered, Bellavilla’s temper and personality were becoming vividly lively; doubtless, she was similarly provocative and cynical in her heyday. So I promptly intervened: "You two, don’t argue over this topic—Sandora, don’t fret about your appetite, consider your contributions to Earth’s economy and our home’s kitchen cleanliness. Bellavilla, you too, this shop was specially approved by us, aren’t you worried Sandora might increase your rent and utilities?" Bellavilla instantly wilted: "You’re ruthless. I doubt there’s another person who can use rent to threaten a former Imperial Empress—what exactly do you all want to do?" After joking around sufficiently, Sandora and I quickly shared our previous speculations about the "time table," mainly about the history following the collapse of the Old Empire by the Fallen Apostles. And of course, if she knows why the Fallen Apostles awakened almost simultaneously with me, that would be even better. "The time table... After connecting these events, there really seems to be a pattern," Bellavilla lazily reclined on the small rattan chair by the window and glanced at me with a smile, "Many things following the collapse of the Old Empire were chaotic and unclear in my memory. The only clear part is: initially, the infected Xyrin Apostles were in an extremely chaotic state, whereas those old guys who helped me establish the Literature Hall and I managed to stay lucid for the first few decades due to our strong individual power. When the surviving Leader-level Apostles built the Holy Hall, those uncontrollable Imperial Army forces were attacking their own territory. Later, the Literature Hall plan failed, and we Leader-level Apostles gradually fell into madness. For a long time after that, I have no clear memory, but when we woke up as Fallen Apostles, the timeline had reached the chasing end mentioned—meaning the Exile Fleet evaded the Fallen Apostles’ pursuit because the maddened Fallen Apostles were gradually regaining their thinking ability." "They turned from being madmen who couldn’t think into calm, cruel madmen." Sandora said lightly. "That’s quite an accurate summary," Bellavilla nodded in agreement, "That’s indeed the case." "What did you all do during the subsequent period?" Sandora looked seriously at Bellavilla, "If you regained consciousness as Fallen Apostles one to two thousand years after the Old Empire’s demise, and there was a rather long time before the New Empire awakened, did you really have no actions during this period?" Bellavilla’s expression slowly changed as she was trying hard to recall that unclear period, then slowly said, "It was a strange state; we had consciousness but almost no desire for action, as if something was obstructing all Fallen Apostles’ thoughts. We were still active but seldom left the vast chaotic area left by the Old Empire’s collapse. Occasionally, we were commanded to send out small fleets with unclear mission goals, just aimlessly roaming the Void and quickly returning... as if..." "As if the whole race was sleepwalking." Sandora accurately summarized the peculiar state Bellavilla described, to which the latter immediately nodded repeatedly: "Yes, exactly sleepwalking! We seemed very lucid but just didn’t know what we were doing. This state was initially severe, as if the entire race had solidified, then it slowly ’normalized.’ As for the current state, all Fallen Apostles began to execute various major plans orderly, and the mystical Da Ye began around one or two hundred years before the New Empire’s awakening... So coincidentally, it was almost the same time Chen Cheng became Emperor." ...I can’t really take how these guys treat hundreds of years as trivial. Don’t take a century as nothing! Though now I don’t have the right to judge them much. "I suddenly thought of a very important question," Sandora softly breathed out, "About the ’distinguished one’ you mentioned before, the mastermind behind the entire Fallen Apostle camp—when did they appear?" My eyes suddenly sharpened—damn, why didn’t I think of this question? And then I felt a chill, as a terrible guess suddenly came to mind, thinking it better not be so melodramatic: if that so-called distinguished one appeared just one or two hundred years before I awakened, it would instantly make things gut-wrenching. Bellavilla seemed to have guessed what I was thinking, scanning me with a provocative gaze, only speaking slowly after I almost decided to double her rent this month: "The voice first appeared in memory after we regained consciousness as Fallen Apostles, meaning it’s been many tens of thousands of years now." Alright, I sighed with relief in my heart, it seems that the troublesome big shot has nothing to do with me... Um, theoretically, that should be the case, but why does this awkward feeling remain? "Waiting specifically until the Fallen Apostle regains consciousness before coming out to take control of the Empire’s power, or is it—" Sandora and I exchanged a glance, "is the so-called ’big shot’ the reason the Fallen Apostle recovered from a frenzy state?" "Who knows, ’it’ happened to be stuck at that point in time, both scenarios are possible," Bellavilla said, suddenly yawning, "You should hurry, I’m feeling like I’m about to pass out soon. When Silvia wakes up later, she’s gonna stress you both out—at most three minutes, after three minutes I have to go over there." Sandora and I exchanged a glance, feeling like there’s nothing left to ask, so we responded in unison: "Get lost!" Bellavilla tried to protest, but immediately lost her strength. As soon as she half rose, her eyes went blurry, and by the time half her body was over the table, she’d closed her eyes, then fell head-first as Silvia, a quick-thinking Sandora promptly moved her cake and drink, while the unfortunate silver-furred mole hit the tabletop with a "thud." The wondrous Silvia lay there motionless for a good five or six seconds. As I pondered if she had been knocked out, preparing to splash cold water on her, she slowly woke up, the previously sharp silver-haired girl now sporting a dull, sleepy look. Upon seeing the pile of plates next to Sandora, she immediately clasped her hands together pitifully and said, "You—still haven’t had enough?" Last time, I brought Sandora here for a meal, and Silvia didn’t open shop for a whole week... In the end, Sandora and I were sent off by a teary-eyed Silvia. As we were leaving, Sandora successfully swept away the last stock of pastries from the shop, if not for me holding her back, Her Majesty the Queen might not have spared even the uncooked flour and egg batter in the back kitchen. When we left, Silvia had a visible sigh of relief on her face—because her counter was still intact. Just as we were about to take a stroll in a nearby park to digest, we stumbled upon an old friend we hadn’t seen in a while at the street corner: a bright silver metal ball. The large ball floated mid-air, with red paint writing on the surface saying "Front," "Top," "Moisture-Proof," "Do Not Crush," and "Stacking Limit: 5." I was dumbfounded at the sight, then, with a face full of embarrassment, asked the iron ball: "Bieberu, who wrote all this on you?" The floating iron ball jiggled up and down as if greeting Sandora and me, then answered in its booming voice: "Lilina the Archbishop said these things would help me while living among other races, but I feel like something’s off." I should have guessed... Read full story at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 "Getting used to living in Shadow City?" It’s been a while since I last saw Bieberu. Though he recently stayed in Shadow City, his daily affairs kept him quite busy. Ever since Fina stepped down from her position as Queen, Bieberu, the former Kingdom’s Prime Minister, has become the Governor of the Civilization Commonwealth (Seventy percent of all Governors of the Civilization Commonwealth are led by former leaders of various races, while the remaining thirty percent are second leaders from races whose original leaders either perished in the Big Nebula campaign or retired like Fina has), the heroic sacrifices Fina made for the Kingdom’s freedom have now led to the idyllic life she yearned for in Avalon. "It’s alright," Bieberu gently shook his body, "except I watched a horror movie a few days ago, and I’ve felt uneasy ever since—perhaps it’s due to cultural differences, I can’t understand why some people enjoy terrifying things." Intrigued, I asked: "A horror movie? What did you watch?" As soon as he spoke, I couldn’t help but laugh: he watched a night-long snooker championship. In Bieberu’s perspective, the essence of the game was two people hitting twenty-two balls with sticks, which he found extremely horrifying—I was quite relieved he hadn’t watched the World Cup, that’s even more brutal, with twenty-two people kicking one ball... "Speaking of which, I might have a task suitable for you," perhaps due to recent tendencies of worrying about the nation, after chatting for a bit I quickly switched to serious matters, looking at Bieberu’s bright and shiny exterior, I felt he matched my requirements in various aspects, "Would you be interested in taking on the role of a special foreign affairs officer for a period of time?" "Foreign affairs officer?" Bieberu trembled slightly from left to right, "Does the Empire have such a position?" I thought about it and nodded, "It’s just recently created—mainly due to the matter of the Exile Fleet, you should be aware of this news." Information about the Exile Fleet is classified at level B within the Empire’s information system, meaning that apart from the Xyrin Apostle, leaders of the vassal races also have access rights to read it, and considering Bieberu’s status as a special kind of lifeform, he’s constantly connected to the Empire’s network, so he must be aware of the Exile Fleet’s situation. After receiving Bieberu’s affirmative response, I revealed my plan: "As you know, the Exile Fleet is a sensitive issue within the Empire right now, Xyrin Apostles can’t directly interact with them due to our stance, likewise, they aren’t keen on engaging deeply with the Empire, at least not for a couple of generations. Hence, I wish to select some individuals from the vassal races to handle these matters, to serve as a sort of intermediary buffer." Bieberu, having served as Prime Minister, grasped the concept instantly upon my words. "Your task is simple, help them establish their home, familiarize them with the new environment, and subtly convey the situation of the New Empire to them," I explained, "I hope that within the coming years, the Exile Fleet will have a correct understanding of the New Empire, and establish good communication with the ’brother civilizations’ in the Macro World." This process is straightforward, given that the Exile Fleet is not willing to directly contact the Imperial Army, they would interact with the vassal races of the New Empire instead. Some members of the Exile Fleet themselves were once vassal races of the Old Empire, hence acceptance should be easier for them, moreover, the vassal races of the New Empire have fostered a culture of mutual assistance since their inception, initially by chance due to my influence, and now it has become a feature of the New Empire—I’m confident this atmosphere can greatly ease the nerves of the Exile Fleet, at least enough to have them erase the ’defeat the Xyrin Imperial Ideology’ segment from their elementary school textbooks... Bieberu readily agreed to my request, and after receiving authorization from Sandora and me, he immediately began organizing the required personnel. Just as I was about to head back, a sudden urgent communication buzzed through the spiritual connection from an anxious Bingdisi. "Chen! Hurry back home! Divine Realm extremely urgent super invincible express mail—it will kill you if delayed for a second—Father God’s handwritten letter! Additionally, there’s a troublesome person too, you better help avert a crisis..." (The renovation is finally nearing completion, just barely finding some time... It’s quite miraculous that during these nearly two months of renovation, I haven’t missed a single update, perhaps I should skip an update to celebrate in these coming days... ahem, to adjust my state?) (To be continued. If you enjoy the work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation.)