Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 950: Sin (1)

Reflecting on what the maid had said, Luo Qiu paused, then asked, "You mean she’s been waiting for a chance to manifest?"

Yōu Yè nodded. "Yes. After all, Scathach is one of the most powerful summoned spirits. For people of this era, reaching a level to summon her successfully is nearly impossible."

"Hmm… Scathach." Luo Qiu furrowed his brows. "I think I came across her name in some old records… I’ll look into it once we’re back."

"Understood." The maid had no objections to her master's decision.

The club, being independent of any faction, was neutral, so whether or not to pay attention to a powerful entity depended entirely on its owner’s will.

"Is there anything else?" Luo Qiu glanced at the time; it was nearly time to meet with the Song family.

Yōu Yè responded, "The shop is all packed. If there are no further instructions, I’ll be relocating immediately… I’ve already shortlisted a few new addresses for you to choose from."

"Somewhere close to my destination would be fine," Luo Qiu said, shaking his head. "You decide."

Yōu Yè nodded, then suddenly took Luo Qiu's hand, placing it against her forehead. In a gentle voice, she said, "I’ll be away for two days and won’t be able to watch over you. Though external forces can't destroy your existence, the pain of death can still linger…"

Looking up at him with warm eyes, she added, "I’d hate to see you experience that pain, even briefly. Please, be careful.""It’s unlikely anyone can kill me now," Luo Qiu replied with a smile. "And it’s only two days—nothing should happen… I shouldn’t have that much bad luck."

Indeed, even if his body were destroyed, his essence remained.

---

In normal circumstances, Mother Teresa should have stayed hospitalized, but she insisted on leaving, not wanting the church to spend too much on her. Despite the priest's assurances, she stood firm.

Soon, Chalty and her group were transferred to a church-owned residence—a modest place resembling a dormitory.

Alongside them were a few young nuns and an elderly nun who taught them.

Naturally, Lucifer also moved in with Chalty and Mother Teresa. On the way, the Queen of Hell marveled at the irony of her living in a nun’s quarters—like a wolf among sheep.

Since Issam’s death, Chalty had become quieter and often ignored Lucifer's mocking remarks. She simply looked at the Queen of Hell with an unreadable expression, which only fueled Lucifer's interest.

"I look forward to seeing those bright eyes turn black…" Lucifer mused.

"Such a twisted pleasure," responded the Shadow Queen, who was watching TV. Mother Teresa was resting, and Chalty had gone to attend a class, leaving Lucifer confined to the room.

Lucifer, lying on the floor, didn’t look up. "You want me to regain my power to supply you with energy, right?"

"Much appreciated," Scathach replied coolly.

To be assigned to protect one of Hell’s monarchs was probably her most relaxed summoning—there was no need for battles or competition here.

"By the way, do you spirits gain energy from food?" Lucifer suddenly asked, as Scathach had been raiding the kitchen and was still munching on jerky.

"Better than nothing," Scathach replied, noting Lucifer was now standing in a magic circle about a meter wide, drawn with ink made from decade-old bones and other materials.

Of course, Lucifer hadn’t gathered these items herself… Scathach sighed, imagining how her old rivals would mock her if they knew her first task upon being summoned was grave-robbing.

"Done? What's this?" she asked, curious about Lucifer's intentions.

"Nothing much," Lucifer replied. "After I summoned you, there was a residual death aura I wanted to use to locate my original subordinates. They were in this city, but now they’re gone… still can’t find them."

The circle under Lucifer’s feet flickered before fading out.

Lucifer shook her head. "They must be far away… where have you run off to, my dear Charlotte?"

"If there’s nothing else, may I leave, respected summoner?" Scathach said.

"Wait, there’s something I’d like you to investigate," Lucifer replied.

Scathach stayed, listening.

"Find out more about the ‘Bucky’ church… apparently, their messenger of God never shows his face."

"Alright," Scathach nodded, sighing once more at this absurd summoning.

As she left, she suddenly advised, "Respected summoner, please wear something appropriate. Social norms here consider your current attire a bit… provocative."

Lucifer looked down in surprise.

Although provided by the church, the room was simple—no air conditioning, for instance.

In the stifling heat, Lucifer had only donned a small vest and striped shorts—nothing more.

"Provocative?" Lucifer chuckled darkly. "I’d welcome it if some twisted soul showed up."

Scathach sighed again and slipped through the wall, disappearing.

---

Recently, the philanthropist Saint Francis had become a prominent figure in Rio’s social circles.

The story of Saint Francis quickly spread—many were eager to befriend this wealthy and generous man.

Mr. Saint Francis was quite willing to make friends with anyone who visited him, so it didn't take long before his private appointments were fully booked.

Tonight was the 20th birthday banquet for his daughter, Miss Cossini. The cars of the guests had already lined up outside the hotel, which had been reserved well in advance.

Upstairs, in the hotel's lounge, Mr. Saint Francis was listening to a report from his personal assistant on the guests’ arrival status.

"…That’s about all, sir. There's also one other thing: the mayor’s secretary called to say the mayor may arrive later, as he's currently in a last-minute meeting that hasn't concluded yet."

Mr. Saint Francis quickly instructed, "Tell the mayor's secretary I’ll be at the entrance to welcome him personally."

"Understood, I'll inform them immediately," the assistant replied and exited briskly.

As the assistant left, Miss Cossini stepped out from a different door, leading from a changing room in the lounge. She was dressed in a white dress with gold embroidery, walking out gracefully.

Mr. Saint Francis glanced at her, nodded with satisfaction, and smiled, "My dear, you truly have a way of enchanting men."

With that, he picked up a box from the coffee table, approached Cossini, and inside was a necklace. Mr. Saint Francis personally fastened it around her neck. Standing before a mirror, he adjusted her chin to align her face with her reflection.

"Look at you—a flawless work of art. Do you know why I adopted you from the orphanage back then? It was because of those eyes."

Cossini frowned slightly as Mr. Saint Francis gripped her chin and neck with a firm hand.

"Do you remember your task for tonight?" Mr. Saint Francis suddenly asked.

"The target is the item carried by the Divine Messenger," Cossini replied promptly.

Mr. Saint Francis chuckled, "Good child. Once you succeed, Daddy will give you a fine reward."

"Daddy…" Cossini’s gaze became unfocused, her breathing grew rapid, and her face turned pale as though all her strength had left her, forcing her to lean on Mr. Saint Francis.

"Oh? Is it time already?" Mr. Saint Francis smirked and released her, causing her to collapse onto the floor.

"Daddy…"

"Wait here," Saint Francis said, heading into another room and soon returning with a box containing an injector and a small vial of powder.

Mr. Saint Francis squinted, preparing the injection. Addiction—a most effective control tool, one he had learned early in his career from a senior back in the Imperial Command.

"Daddy… I feel so awful… Daddy, please…" Cossini whimpered, her face contorted in pain.

"Oh, my dear, don't worry. Daddy will make it all better soon," Mr. Saint Francis replied with a chuckle, rolling up her sleeve.

He gave her the injection, after which her symptoms gradually subsided. Cossini’s expression turned peculiar, a mixture of relief and an unsettling, almost manic smile.

Satisfied, Mr. Saint Francis stored the syringe, then sat down with a cigar and a glass of wine, watching her.

After about fifteen minutes, Cossini opened her eyes fully, clutching her dress as if regaining her strength, though Mr. Saint Francis did not notice this.

Seeing her awake, he said casually, "Go freshen up and present your best self to welcome this so-called 'Divine Messenger.' Try to fulfill his every request. I’ll arrange the right moment for you."

Cossini nodded, turned toward the dressing room, biting her inner lip as her expression grew darker out of Mr. Saint Francis’s sight.

Just then, the assistant reentered, knocking politely. "Sir, Mr. Besong, whom you asked me to monitor closely, has arrived. As you anticipated, he brought a masked friend. I’ve escorted them to the banquet hall."

"Excellent. I'll be there shortly," Mr. Saint Francis nodded.

...

Mr. Besong saw this gathering as a great opportunity to promote the magnificence of the "Bucky Church." He suggested to the revered "Divine Messenger" that it would be ideal to showcase his powers here.

Bucky was open to good advice. Agreeing with the idea, he cast a blessing spell on one of the guests who was already a follower of the "Bucky Church" and another blessing on a skeptical local official. The results were immediate, especially with the encouragement of several church members among the guests. Many approached Mr. Besong, interested in learning more about the sect.

Pleased, Bucky mentally calculated how much more faith he could accumulate daily after this demonstration.

He noticed the club's maid had shown him a "Pad" with a special feature: a lottery spin costing 100 faith units per attempt, offering highly valuable prizes.

"Hmm… Should I go for a ten-spin?" Bucky mused, rubbing his chin, "Too bad there’s no guarantee with ten spins—quite a racket!"

While Bucky pondered his next move, a pair of eyes followed his every action from across the hall.

The source of this gaze was a woman leaning against the wall, unnoticed by those around her—the Shadow Queen, Scathach.

"A real deal, not an illusion…" The Queen of Shadows narrowed her eyes. "Seems like he's gathering faith... interesting."