Chapter 25: The Divine Contract

Bang—!!!

“Too despicable! Too shameful! Marlon, your Three-Win Plan is simply despicable! Shameful! But—” The elegant vampire, Sols, twisted his face in excitement, pounding the nearby wooden table with uncontrollable force. “I love this plan! Really, I love it!”

Huh?

Despicable? Shameful?

Marlon blinked, truly tempted to retort: “Mr. Sols, actually, you just stole the classic line of some skeletal dragon called Gregory. And also, I’m not that despicable, shameful fat man.”

But before Marlon could respond, Sols—so caught up in his excitement that his fangs protruded about an inch beyond his lips without him noticing—turned eagerly toward Ivna: “Miss Ivna, what are we waiting for? This plan is utterly absurd, yet perfectly brilliant! So, what are we waiting for?”

“Perfect?” Ivna sighed inwardly, as she had expected, before speaking in her usual orderly manner: “Mr. Sols, this plan is not perfect yet. First, you haven’t listened to Marlon explain the actual content of those… fantasy novels of his.”

Ivna’s words cooled Sols’s boiling excitement, and his exposed fangs slowly retreated: “Yes, yes, I got too excited. You’re right, Miss Ivna.”

Turning to Ivna, Sols immediately bowed slightly to Marlon, his demeanor far more respectful than before. In a measured tone, he asked: “Is it alright? Mr. Marlon, could you share the contents of your… fantasy novels with us?”

Thus began the storytime, reading straight from the scripts—ten pre-selected stories, just as before.

And the result exceeded Marlon’s expectations.

Sols was a banker, with no experience in publishing—true—but his other, unavoidable identity was that of a long-lived vampire.

To pass the endless stretches of life, orthodox vampires often turned to literature, and Sols, unsurprisingly, was among them.

So, even without working in publishing, Sols possessed exceptional literary taste!

The first seven fairy tales Marlon told didn’t move Sols much. Even the highly creative Monster Shrek left little impression.

But when Marlon reached the eighth story, The Count of Monte Cristo, he captured Sols’s heart almost instantly. So much so that when Marlon stopped at the pre-set plot point, Sols blurted out: “Continue! Keep telling this captivating, wonderful story!”

Marlon shook his head firmly. With Sols’s disappointed gaze upon him, he began the ninth story, The Royal Emblem.

Soon, Sols, listening with growing agitation, said again: “Continue! I beg you, keep telling this fascinating story!”

Marlon, of course, refused. If he gave away all his stories for free, how could he support himself?

He now considered himself a professional writer, and professional writers—at least—needed something to eat to survive. They weren’t gods who could live forever on faith alone.

Of course, Marlon never voiced this thought—talking about money is crude, after all. Even if he wanted to discuss money or women, it should be wrapped in career and romance first.

So he shifted gears and began recounting his magnum opus, Zi Chuan.

But Sols quickly interrupted: “Mr. Marlon, forgive me, but you make war… far too simple.”

Marlon’s reaction surprised Sols—he didn’t argue or show offense. Instead, he fixed his gaze past Sols onto Ivna.

“Alright, I understand. As expected… not every story can seamlessly win universal favor.”

Marlon sighed.

The red-haired girl, Ivna, smiled and nodded.

“Seamlessly win favor? What does that mean?”

Sols, curious as ever, asked.

“Oh, it means I thought people in this world would like it just as I imagined.”

After a full day of talking, Marlon easily patched up Sols’s confusion over the “seamless” comment.

“So, what if Zi Chuan isn’t published? I guess releasing just the first nine stories would already attract enough attention.”

Marlon continued.

“That’s a good idea,” Ivna nodded.

“I agree,” Sols concurred.

“So, you two have no objections to the Three-Win Plan?” Marlon asked.

“None. For me, if I don’t join your plan, my bank will soon go bankrupt, and I’ll be kicked out of this 100,000 Lants mansion in disgrace,” Sols admitted, unashamed.

“Neither do I,” the queenly red-haired Ivna nodded, though she furrowed her brow slightly and added: “So, we need to find the key person to trigger this Three-Win Plan as quickly as possible.”

“My old butler is a good candidate,” Sols suggested.

“No, we cannot use anyone directly connected to us—that would greatly increase the risk of the plan being exposed!” Ivna rejected firmly, her words dripping with queenly authority.

She then turned to Marlon.

“I have no suitable candidates either.”

Marlon shrugged. Although he devised the plan, he truly had no one in mind to “trigger the Three-Win Plan.”

“Nor do I,” Ivna added, reclaiming her gaze from Marlon. Her queenly aura resurfaced. “In that case, staying here serves no purpose. For the sake of avoiding bankruptcy and securing a brilliant future, it’s time to act and find this key person, gentlemen!”

“No, no, no. We need to divide tasks. At least, my task is to relocate my bank headquarters next to your publishing house, create momentum, and begin action,” Sols, now sporting a scruffy beard, displayed his sharp and capable side as he proposed an alternative.

After assigning his own task, Sols pointed vaguely at Marlon: “As for Mr. Marlon, his primary task is to turn those fantasy novels in his head into printed words.”

Sols didn’t specify Ivna’s duties, but her role was self-evident.

“Of course, most importantly, we first need to sign a secrecy contract witnessed by the gods.”

Like a magician, Sols pulled an ancient, yellowed blank parchment from his chest. The edges were decorated with intricate gears and upright eyes.

This was—

The Contract of Yola-Ran.

The contract was witnessed by Yola-Ran, god of machinery, the first deity to hold the mechanical office. Anyone who dared break a contract witnessed by Him would not face divine punishment—but they would be relentlessly hunted to death by Yola-Ran’s paladins in the mortal world…

And the paladins of the Yola-Ran Church were ruthless, skilled in both extended-range steam firearms and magic, capable of long-distance assassination of any violator!

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