"This guy is definitely a piece of work!"
That was the first thought that popped into Elias's mind after hearing John's request.
Although deviant things happened every day in this world, what normal person would authorize someone else to desecrate their own corpse?
"I'm not doing it!"
Elias refused flatly.
Looking at Old Edmond's shriveled mummy back on the lighthouse island had been disgusting enough.
Now he was being asked to cut open a corpse's stomach to retrieve something; that wasn't just disgusting anymore.
It was borderline perverted!
"Half, Elias! Half!"
John grew anxious.
"Don't forget the half of the stash I hid!"
"Various transcendent materials, even an unidentified transcendent object..."
"If you just nod, all of that is yours!"
"Tsk!"
Elias knit his brows tightly, letting out an extremely impatient click of his tongue.
He lowered his head, his expression so solemn it was as if he were contemplating the rise and fall of the Kingdom of Velen.
Watching Elias's reaction, John's heart skipped a beat, and his ethereal chest seemed to turn cold.
This was bad. Could it be that even a transcendent object wasn't enough to move him?
"So annoying—"
Just when John thought the deal was completely dead, Elias's brow suddenly smoothed over, and he let out a long sigh.
His tone was extremely reluctant, but the faint, barely-there curl at the corner of his mouth accurately betrayed his lack of integrity.
"Then why are you putting on such an act!"
It was clear that Old Edmond, having spent every day with Elias, had perfectly evolved into a qualified straight man.
Elias silently blocked Old Edmond in his mind, cleared his throat, and looked at John.
"Fine, but I need to confirm one thing: is that item in your stomach very important to the Seventh Agency?"
"After all, you're a ruthless man for being able to harden your heart and swallow that thing."
"But I don't want to be targeted by the Seventh Agency again because of this."
This question was crucial.
In this world where spirituality could drop to zero at any moment, high rewards often meant high risks.
"I didn't exactly swallow it..."
John tried to explain, but when the words reached his lips, he felt the details weren't necessary to describe in full.
The way Elias looked at him changed.
He really needed to stay away from this guy.
"Yes, it's important, but don't worry, the people from the Seventh Agency won't be investigating this for the time being."
"To be honest, that item is indeed something the Seventh Agency lost."
"Once you get it out, just go to Greywood Alley and find the people from the Alchemy Association."
"The Alchemy Association?"
Elias thought of Redbeard back in Hastings Port; that guy seemed to be a believer of the God of Alchemy and Craftsmen.
"That's right."
John spread his hands.
"The item I stole when I was alive is of great use to the Alchemy Association. If you take it to them, they'll definitely pay a price high enough for you to buy an entire apartment building in the center of Hope County."
"Anyway, as you can see, I'm already dead. Money is just a number to me. You help me resell it, and we both get what we need."
"Could it be that the Alchemy Association hired you to steal from the Seventh Agency?"
Old Edmond suddenly spoke up.
"Not at all."
John denied it quickly.
"My employer originally only asked me to steal some information regarding Moon Bay. When I sneaked into that carriage, my hands were itching, so I swiped an extra item."
"Who knew that thing would be the hottest potato."
"Now I just want to get rid of it."
"Doesn't that just benefit me?"
Elias narrowed his eyes, instinctively wary of such 'pie falling from the sky' luck.
"What about you? What's in it for you?"
"I'm not finished yet!"
John cleared his throat.
"With the money from the sale, I want you to help me order an 'alchemy shell' from the Alchemy Association."
"Buddy, who would want to stay a spiritual body forever if they could be alive?"
"The rest is all yours."
'Is this some kind of cybernetic prosthetic?' Elias's thoughts wandered a bit.
"Wait a minute."
Just then, Old Edmond interrupted.
"John, if I remember correctly, an alchemy shell capable of hosting a spiritual body can only be made by an alchemical craftsman of at least Scale Six, right?"
"Are you sure the thing in your stomach is really that valuable?"
"Absolutely, it's even more valuable!"
"However, I can't tell you the deeper secrets. It wouldn't be good for you, Elias."
John seemed very sincere.
Elias rubbed his chin and remembered something else.
"You said you became a spiritual body because of the properties of a transcendent item. Is it the one I'm helping you get?"
John nodded.
"Every high-level transcendent item has its own properties."
"But I'll be right there to guide you the whole time. As long as you handle it correctly, it's just a lump of expensive scrap metal."
"Is there anything else you're worried about?"
"How can you be sure the Seventh Agency won't investigate this for now?"
This was also crucial. Elias didn't want to become a fugitive.
John gave a mysterious smile.
"I thought of a few ways to divert their attention. They won't be coming to investigate this for the time being."
Elias nodded and looked at him.
"Can you guarantee that?"
"I guarantee it!"
"Good then."
"One last question."
Elias's smile vanished, and his tone became serious.
"The method to lift the dream demon curse—have you found it?"
John blinked.
"I was wondering what you were going to ask. Of course! Buddy, that's the cornerstone of our cooperation."
"As soon as we get that item back, I'll take you to lift the curse immediately."
"Fine, it's a deal!"
Elias reached out and made a phantom gesture in the air, considering the agreement made.
Then, his gaze instantly grew several degrees colder.
"But John, I'm telling you this upfront."
"If you're hiding anything during the process or trying to make me a scapegoat... you know my pathway has plenty of ways to make you disappear forever."
Hearing Elias's threat, the smile on John's face froze.
"Buddy, I can guarantee that everything I said is true."
"Good."
Elias's expression changed instantly, returning to his usual lazy demeanor.
"Helping you will have to wait two days. I just escaped from that damned island with my life; both my mind and body need some rest."
"No problem, I understand!"
John showed his understanding.
"Then two days from now, see you at the cemetery."
After confirming the details, Elias finally relaxed completely.
He strolled all the way back to Ash Street, even forcibly cutting off the mental channel with Old Edmond halfway.
He really didn't want to finally get home only to hear an old man critiquing everything in his head.
137 Ash Street.
The house belonging to the Rockland family was located among the terraced townhouses lining Ash Street.
The house had three floors, narrow and tall.
There were two steps in front of the door, the edges of the worn stone steps covered in stubborn moss.
Of course, the owner of this house was their landlord, Mr. Bridge. Before his parents passed away, the rent had been kept relatively cheap at 2 gold crowns and 32 Fenny per month.
But even so, for the three Rockland siblings after their parents' death, this was a large sum of money.
At the very least, it was obvious that Arthur's monthly salary was just enough to pay the rent, with a little left over for gas lamps and various miscellaneous expenses.
The sky was now completely dark, and the gas street lamps emitted a weak and unstable glow.
Elias stood before his own slightly peeling wooden door, let out a long breath, and fished the key out of his wallet.
Just as he was about to insert it into the keyhole, a familiar chill crawled up his spine.
He felt a pair of eyes staring intently at his back.
Elias spun around abruptly, his right hand already pressing against the grip of the gun in his coat.
In the darkness, a tall figure wearing a black police uniform with a baton at his waist stood quietly at the bottom of the steps, half of his face hidden in the shadow of his cap's brim.
"Ar... Arthur?"
"Hi!"
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