It's possible that he is just deliberately making things difficult for himself, but since he mentioned it, he definitely has a financial need.

This in itself is very strange.

But there is something even stranger.

He is a Curseborn, yet he lives in the city center like it's no big deal, he has a legitimate job, and it seems like he even owns his own house. How is that possible?

The residential areas of Acadia are divided into the aristocratic district where nobles and their staff reside, the commoner district where citizens engaged in crafts and services live, and the outskirts where citizens engaged in agriculture and animal husbandry live.

People like Curseborn, who are treated like rats and are generally avoided, can usually only hide in the deep mountains and forests on the outskirts of the commoner district to avoid being bullied.

There is no point even thinking about welfare for citizens like them.

So how is it possible for that old man to live in the commoner district and act like nothing is wrong? By all accounts, he shouldn't even have a registered residence.

Adjusting the position of his cloak, Merka loosened his collar, his expression becoming tense.

I should first help him gather the money and see if he can keep his promise.

If he can't... then I'll blackmail him and notify the nobles to kick him out of town.

It's an unavoidable situation, I'm sorry, but I have no choice if I want Turing to continue living happily.

Merka returned home, it was already late in the day.

He turned off the lights, enveloped in the cold evening breeze, and fell asleep in loneliness.

The sky reversed, the moon descended, and the sun rose again.

The next day, Merka freshened up and set off early.

After much deliberation, he decided to borrow money from Maria.

And to clarify things that should have been said long ago.

"Here it is."

Now Merka has also learned how to properly groom himself, after all, a noble's husband always has to look more refined, and Merka has been considering this recently.

Merka, wearing a stylish hat, took it off and looked around. He confirmed that this was the temporary residence that the Montecristo family had designated for the Agio family.

When Maria moved in, she did it thoroughly. Not only did she bring a lot of money and furniture, she also brought almost half of her disciples, making it unclear what she intended to do.

To protect Turing from being taken away? Merka thought that was a possibility.

But... is it only that?

Merka rolled his eyes, no longer thinking about these miscellaneous things, but focusing on the matter at hand.

Arriving at the front gate of an exquisite mansion, Merka knocked on the door with familiarity, and was led by the butler to Maria's office.

"Merka, you're here. How have you been recently?"

Merka didn't answer immediately. He knew that now was the time to assert dominance in the negotiation.

With a gloomy expression, Merka walked heavily towards Maria's desk. Without waiting for Maria to invite him to sit, he casually found a seat and sat down.

"Do you truly care about me?"

"Or is it just because only I can support Turing?"

Merka crossed his legs and furrowed his brow.

"You never expected me to come back alive when you sent me to Erisburg, did you?"

"Oedipus Duke is clearly proficient in using aside to read people's memories."

"I couldn't hide the fact that I disguised myself as Turing from her."

"You want to use my death to drive a wedge between mother and daughter, don't you?"

Maria pinched her temples in pain and lowered her head. She had long anticipated this day, when Merka would come to settle the score with her. She just didn't expect it to be now.

"Yes, you're right."

"I'm sorry, Merka Christopher."

"But your sacrifice will be the crucial cornerstone for us to overthrow Oedipus and save the world."

"I believe even in the afterlife, Joan would be proud of you."

Maria paused in her signing of documents, gently turning her pen and placing one hand on her mouth, hiding her expression.

"My sacrifice, I willingly make."

Merka shifted his posture, putting all his weight on the desk towards Maria as if staking his claim, a gesture that often instilled great psychological pressure on others.

"But what about you? Can you control the fate of others with just strategies and tactics without paying any price?"

"It's a bit... too cheap, isn't it?"

Tsk.

Maria couldn't help but make a slight clicking sound with her mouth, wiping her face with the palm of her hand. She immediately adjusted her mindset, straightened her posture, and prepared to negotiate with Merka in earnest.

"Alright, Merka, I understand what you mean."

"Do you have any demands?"

...Merka fell silent for a moment, then stood up from his seat, placing both hands on the table and looking down at Maria from above.

"You are missing one disciple after Joan's death, right?"

"I want to be the thirteenth."

"I not only want the status and rights of a citizen, but also the corresponding position and privileges of a disciple."

Merka said resolutely.

His black eyes seemed to embody a murky determination.