[Employment Contract]

Party A: Annan Dolan

Party B: Ashe Heath / Iger Perskin / Archibald Harvey

Clause 1: Party A must ensure Party B's personal safety.

Clause 2: Party A must guarantee Party B eight hours of rest each day.

Clause 3: Party B retains the right to decide their own course of action when injured.

...

Clause 39: Party B has the right to refuse unreasonable mating demands.

Under these provisions, Party A may assign tasks to Party B, provided such orders do not violate the stated clauses.

Contract Duration: 101 days

Start Date: May 2, 1668, 19:15

End Date: August 10, 1668, 19:15

When the three contracts dissolved into motes of golden light, the girl in purple, Annan, pressed a button. The mana-restricting collars around Ashe and the others released at once.

She spread her arms in welcome. "Welcome aboard. For the next 101 days, let's get along. I am Annan Dolan, director of the Funeral Agency. You may call me Director, Miss, or Boss, but I prefer another title. The Purple Moth. This is my butler, Pankey Mikalis, the agency's second member."

The young butler inclined his head politely and offered them handkerchiefs.

Iger accepted one and wiped his face, his expression cool but reluctant. Time had run out, and they had no choice but to bow under another roof. Annan refused to alter the clause granting her absolute command authority, so he compensated by adding detailed protections for their rights.

Her reasoning was sound. She required them for highly confidential work. Without command authority, trust could not exist. Without trust, she could never reveal her true intentions.

Staring at the handkerchief, Ashe suddenly asked, "Is it also the year 1668 here?"

Annan immediately caught the keyword. "Hm? Also?"

"We come from the Blood Moon Kingdom," Iger said, eyes flickering. "According to our calendar, today is May 2, 1668."

Different nations sharing the same calendar hinted at secrets stretching back into antiquity. Everyone silently agreed to drop the subject.

Ashe continued, "There's something I've been wondering. If we come from different nations, why do we share the same language? Even the writing systems seem to come from the same roots."

Everyone gave Ashe a strange look. Annan handled it with flawless tact. "It seems the Blood Moon Kingdom is somewhat uncivilized. Have they not yet universalized basic education?"

Iger sighed. "I won't refute the first half, but he truly is an exception to basic schooling. Don't take him as the standard for all Blood Moon citizens."

Ashe still looked baffled. At that moment, the Red Hat, Cliose, approached and explained, "The earliest characters originated from the names of spirits. When a sorcerer fully masters a spirit, they obtain its true name and pronunciation. In any nation ruled by sorcerers, language and speech tend to remain similar."

Annan added, "The characters you didn't recognize are extended forms that never became spirit names. If I remember correctly, their number decreases every year, gradually replaced by the root characters of newly discovered spirits."

"So this world has a set of root characters," Ashe said, realization dawning. "Then who created them?"

Annan smiled. "That is an excellent question. Every generation of sorcerers strives to uncover the mysteries of spirits. The moment curiosity sparks within you, you have taken your first step toward that great pursuit. Follow my orders over these 101 days. When the term ends, you will regain your freedom, and you may even acquire the power to approach the truth. I will not treat you unfairly."

Ashe quickly evaluated the qualities of his new employer. Selling a dream required being flexible, and the director clearly possessed that talent. However, she didn't seem like the ruthless type. Working under her might make slacking off rather easy.

At that moment, Cliose turned to Annan. "You said you retrieved only three outlanders through the Book of Gospel?"

"Yes. Why?"

"We found another."

A Red Hat approached, leading a white-haired little girl. Ashe and the others recognized her at once. She was the eerily calm child from the sacrificial ritual.

The little actress lowered her head, fingers clutching the hem of her clothes. She glanced up nervously, her large eyes filled with fear, like a trembling lamb. It was difficult not to feel pity.

Annan's voice softened at once, sweet as melting ice cream. "Good girl. Let big sister see if your ears are hurt."

She checked behind the girl's ear. There was no countdown, yet Cliose would not have been mistaken. Annan queried the Book of Gospel and soon confirmed the truth.

The girl was an outlander. The Book could not retrieve her past, and only those who had never lived in the Gospel Kingdom lacked recorded history.

Annan said gently, "Good girl. Can you tell me why you appeared here? Where do your parents live? I can take you back to them."

The white-haired girl looked at her timidly and shook her head. "I... I don't know. Bad people brought me here..."

"Then, before that? Where were you?"

She shook her head in distress. "I don't know... I forgot... I can't remember anything."

Annan neither believed nor doubted her. She instead consulted the Book of Gospel and spent points to verify the claim.

The Book's answer made it clear the girl was telling the truth. She had truly lost her memory.

"Perhaps something went wrong while she was passing through the Virtual Channel, or when the cultists captured her, that could explain the memory loss," Annan said.

She then turned her gaze toward Ashe and the others. "Answer me. Did you see her before arriving in the Gospel Kingdom?"

"No," the three replied in perfect unison.

Before Ashe even realized it, his mouth had already echoed the answer.

Iger's expression shifted subtly. The intimidation was clear at a glance, and undeniably effective. Annan's control over them was more direct and absolute than he had anticipated.

"Have you examined her body?" Annan asked.

Cliose replied, "There are no traces of Miracles or spirits. From what it seems, she poses no threat, but..."

Annan understood their hesitation. Runaway outlanders like Ashe and his companions, cut off from any retreat, were manageable. But a white-haired child of unknown origin was a dangerously unpredictable variable. Under normal circumstances, she might have suggested letting the girl pass away quietly in her sleep. Even if spared, no family would willingly take in a child with an unknown background. Yet Annan needed outlanders, and children were far more suitable for her purposes than adults.

After some thought, she asked gently, "Do you remember your name?"

The white-haired girl whispered, "Lys. My name is Lys."

Unable to hold back, Cliose interjected, "Annan, contracts signed by minors carry no legal force."

"Only the woven paper refuses to recognize contracts signed by minors. Standard Virtual World contracts make no distinction based on age."

Annan extended her hand toward the girl. "Shake my hand."

The girl recoiled, as if Annan's palm hid sharp needles.

The beautiful Purple Moth's eyes narrowed slightly, her smile growing warmer. "What's wrong? Don't you like holding big sister's hand? If you shake hands with me, I'll take care of you. I'll buy you pretty clothes, tasty snacks, and tell you fairy tales at night to help you sleep."

Iger observed coldly from the side. Annan might have seemed inexperienced in her methods, but he could tell that, beneath her outward demeanor, she was decisively ruthless. First, she sold them to the Four Pillars Cult. Then she orchestrated the Red Hats' attack to defeat the cult and rescue them. She even allowed the Red Hats to threaten them before finally intervening. The entire sequence of events played out in a whirlwind of calculated moves.

Outlanders, disoriented and overwhelmed in an unfamiliar land, could easily have their judgment clouded by such chaos. Witnessing the very person who had sold them now offering protection might stir gratitude, weaken rational thought, and even compel them to sign away their rights under a humiliating slave contract.

Fortunately, these three were hardened survivors. Even in less-than-ideal circumstances, they instinctively saw through such basic manipulation. Even Ashe didn't fall for it.

Nevertheless, Annan's plan hadn't failed due to incompetence. She quickly regained her composure, negotiated with Iger, and even offered concessions to secure a swift signing, which alone made Iger reassess her. She was greedy, but not avaricious. Unbothered by past losses and unconcerned with perfect outcomes, she always aimed for the best possible decisions. In short, she embodied the qualities of a perfectly rational actor.

Iger understood that if they refused to sign, Annan would never let them go. He knew that if she could not obtain a scarce resource, she would rather destroy it than let it slip away.

By the same logic, if Lys refused Annan, she would no longer be treated as a little girl, but a scarce resource. She could speak gently to a child, but when it came to a valuable asset, only the optimal decision mattered.

Sensing the danger, Lys retreated further, her lips trembling as tears welled in her eyes. She looked around, let out a wail, and suddenly dashed toward one of them. "Daddy!"