The Warden of The Witches-Chapter 232:

Chapter 232: As You Can See, I'm Bathing

"You've been a great help today, Warden." At the entrance of the Inquisition Bureau, Kyle tipped his hat to Aiden, then pulled an envelope sealed with the Bureau's wax stamp from inside his coat. "About this bounty, shall we split it fifty-fifty?"

"No need. I basically did nothing; I don't deserve it. You caught the man, so you should keep it," Aiden declined outright.

"The Warden is truly incorruptible. Admirable." Kyle smiled faintly. "It seems trying to pull strings through you to see Ophelia is truly hopeless."

"Are you still thinking about that?" Aiden's brow furrowed slightly. "If you want to see her, wait until next month after her observation period ends, then come to the prison—provided, of course, Ophelia doesn't cause any trouble in the meantime. Judging by today's situation, though, that might be difficult."

"I understand. Even before she became vampire, she was a willful, troublesome girl. After becoming one, there was even less chance to correct her." Kyle smiled bitterly. "In that case, I'll trouble you to pass on a message: tell her to stop being foolish, follow the rules honestly. Staying alive properly is more important than anything."

"There's no need for such final-sounding words. You should just write her a letter. Although she can't have visitors now, she can still receive mail," Aiden replied. "Besides, the kind of things you're talking about, I teach every inmate under my watch daily."

"Mm, that makes sense." Kyle nodded with a smile. "That's wonderful. Warden, you truly are someone trustworthy. With you looking after that foolish girl, I can rest assured."

"Let me be clear first: if she tries to escape through violent crime again like last time, the next sentence enhancement will likely result in the death penalty," Aiden reminded him expressionlessly.

Kyle fell silent for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, I will try to persuade her." A polite smile returned to his face. "I truly apologize for taking up your entire evening. I shall take my leave here."

"Wait a moment, Mr. Kaodo..." Aiden called out as Kyle turned to leave.

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"Oh, no need to be so formal. Just call me Kyle," Kyle turned back. "Is there anything else?"

"Forgive my asking, but your Progenitor Faction sent you to obstruct the 'Death God Faction's' activities. What exactly is your objective?" Aiden asked.

The "Death God Faction's" Blood Moon Cult was now almost certainly a potential threat, both to him personally and to the city. But the "Progenitor Faction" sent to stop them couldn't necessarily be treated as an ally either.

"Well, personally, I don't have any particular goal. I'm just acting according to that lord's orders," Kyle spread his hands with a smile. "However, that lord probably wishes to eliminate his curse and attain complete release. He has longed for peace for a very, very long time."

"Peace? You mean... that kind of peace?" Aiden didn't quite understand at first.

"Yes. He wants to die like a normal person. He has lived far too long and has grown weary of surviving in this world as a monster."

"Couldn't he just commit suicide?" Aiden was even more puzzled.

"Unfortunately, the Progenitor... cannot die," Kyle shook his head. "Unlike derivative kin like us, he is truly immortal in the literal sense. Even if his body is completely shattered, burned to ash, and scattered across the world, those ashes will gradually gather together and reform into a living being, even if the process takes years. If stained with enough blood, his body recovers instantly. Even he himself cannot find a way to kill himself."

Hearing this, Aiden couldn't help but think of the resurrection ability Abigail had traded him. The Blood Progenitor's bizarre regenerative power seemed far beyond the scope of black magic. Kyle had previously mentioned the Progenitor's curse came from the God of Death; could this power of immortality also be an effect of the 'Death' authority?

"Making an immortal individual die sounds like something only a god in charge of death could accomplish," Aiden commented. "Yet your Progenitor opposes the God of Death?"

"Well, his curse was apparently given by the God of Death, so their relationship couldn't possibly be good," Kyle brushed it off lightly.

Aiden nodded silently, but a thought surfaced in his mind.

The Progenitor, an enemy who mastered the 'Death' authority—did he really just want to die? In this world, intentionally antagonizing a god... the most likely and logical motive would be to drag them down from their divine seat and take their place.

After bidding Kyle farewell, Aiden watched him board a rental carriage. Instead of taking a ride home himself, however, Aiden turned and walked back towards the prison.

The Blood Moon Cult, internal conflicts among blood-kin, serial murders... After Suddenly learning so much, it would likely be difficult to go home tonight and sleep peacefully as if nothing had happened. The fact that blood-kin had investigated the Bountiful Mother Cult might very well be related to him.

But strictly speaking, it wasn't just related to him.

Now he needed to find a safe place to meet with another involved party.

"Warden, didn't you already leave? Did you forget something?" The guard on duty was surprised to see his superior, who had already finished his shift, return late at night.

"Suddenly remembered some work I forgot to handle," Aiden responded vaguely and went straight back to his office.

Then, he took out the Archwitch token Abigail had given him and began calling her name in his mind.

A few seconds passed, and Abigail's voice emerged: "How rare. For Your Excellency to call upon me voluntarily."

"There are some matters I'd like to discuss with you privately. Is it convenient to meet?" Aiden asked.

Abigail remained silent for a good while, then the grey mist within the token suddenly surged.

Once again, Aiden was enveloped by the grey mist and "transferred" to Abigail's summoning space.

Then he froze.

Although it was still a space filled with swirling grey mist, the usual long table laden with jack-o'-lanterns was gone. The space was empty except for thin wisps of white mist drifting about—this mist floated lazily and casually, unlike the constantly churning grey mist created by magical projection, looking more like ordinary steam in a bathroom.

He found himself sitting in his office chair, directly facing a huge bathtub shrouded in grey mist.

Abigail sat within the bathtub, her figure indistinctly visible through the mist, as if behind a layer of grey gauze.

"Where is this?" Aiden suddenly realized he might have appeared in a rather inappropriate place.

"As Your Excellency can see..." Abigail replied with extreme composure, "It is my bathroom."