Chương 92: The Obispo

A month before the Trial, Fourth Union Government Headquarters, Yetano the Capital City. Located in the southern district of Yetano, the country's capital, the Fourth UG Headquarters stood ten stories high, constructed entirely from pure The End Marble stone. The building remained distinct and imposing among the taller skyscrapers surrounding it. Across Yetano, five separate UG headquarters managed different regions of the nation, with Faith City falling under the direct control of the Fourth.

On a bright Monday morning, the main entrance bustled with well-suited individuals coming and going. Most who entered carried a sophisticated aura, people suited for navigating complex political matters rather than managing real-time threats like Dungeons and Gates. To accommodate the steady influx of high-ranking visitors, numerous expensive restaurants and cookhouses had been established around the Fourth UG Headquarters. At a corner table inside one of these upscale dining rooms sat a team of four.

By their attire and overall demeanor, they appeared to belong entirely to the nation's diplomatic elite. However, these four individuals formed an elite Awakened team working under the UG, known as [Obispo]. Following the demise of the UG's founder, control of the organization was seized by individuals possessing Awakened [Strategic Classes].

Because these strategists contributed very little to directly conquering Dungeons or Gates, they invested their full effort into securing authority over the UG, succeeding with ease. This power shift occurred largely because Combat-type Awakeners had little interest in diplomatic affairs, tasks that bored them initially. Over time, however, the combatants slowly realized that the strategists had woven a vast network of rules and regulations governing how society operated in this new era of the world.

The powerful combat Awakeners strongly opposed these restrictions. However, by the time they realized that true authority resided within these government buildings, it was already too late. The Strategic Class had already devised a countermeasure, forming a specialized task force to suppress and control any rogue Awakeners who challenged their rule. They named this team Obispo. Operating in the shadows, Obispo handled all the grueling, underground dirty work, preserving the government's authority without fail.

A century had passed since the strategists took control of the UG. Over the decades, they imposed a vast array of regulations that largely benefited everyday citizens and actively prevented tyrannical rule across the world. At the same time, these strict laws severely restricted the overall distribution of power. Consequently, individuals with grand ambitions, those who dreamed of world domination, viewed the UG leaders as hypocrites who acted like dictators themselves.

Ultimately, however, such power struggles were high-level concerns for the elites in Sector A, far removed from anything common folk in the Outer Sector cared about. Inside the restaurant, the dining room was relatively busy as the four team members sat at a table near the back. A heavy silence hung over them, not the vigilant, sharp silence of alert Awakeners, but one born of sheer exhaustion, even though it was only Monday morning.

"Stacy, do you want me to order a Silver Coffee?" asked a man who resembled an Academy professor, dressed in a neatly worn, plain formal shirt. He directed the question at a woman currently slumping with her head resting flat on the table. Without waiting for her reply, he raised his hand to signal the server and ordered four Silver Coffees.

"I don't want coffee, Patrick. I want 48 hours of undisturbed sleep," she muttered without raising her head.

"Sit up straight. I already ordered the coffee; drinking it will clear your tiredness." Patrick paid no mind to Stacy's complaint.

"Captain, what was the reason for this sudden call? Didn't they know we were on our rest period?" asked the man sitting beside Patrick. He had a remarkably slender frame, with long hair tied back in a ponytail and a beard long enough to brush against his stomach. He resembled a poet far more than an elite member of Obispo.

"I'm not sure, Freddie. It must be urgent, or the Head wouldn't have summoned us on such short notice," Patrick replied, lacking a definitive answer for his teammate. Soon, the ordered coffee was served, and everyone began to drink. Even Stacy sat up straight to sip her Silver Coffee—an exceptionally refreshing and highly expensive beverage harvested from within the Gates.

"Captain, why were all of us summoned here? Usually, your presence alone is enough, right?" asked another man after taking a sip. He possessed a round face and a peculiar haircut that resembled a bob cut, making him look like someone who worked in a cookhouse. None of these individuals looked like typical Awakeners; they appeared entirely ordinary. There was a specific reason for their unassuming appearance.

Although the UG maintained an official Awakening branch of hired operatives to publicly execute dangerous external missions, those combatants were strictly bound by UG regulations and could not be exempted from the rules. However, certain situations demanded that regulations be ignored for the greater good. In those moments, deploying public forces would paint the government in a bad light among everyday citizens and inevitably create widespread controversy.

To avoid such complications, the UG established this internal division comprised of ordinary-looking people with extraordinary abilities to perform tasks that required breaking the rules. Through them, the UG could achieve its objectives seamlessly without inciting chaos or incurring public backlash.

"Only S-rank jobs require everyone's presence, so just assume and prepare your minds for an S-rank job," Patrick said as he sipped his coffee.

"Are you feeling better, Stacy?" he asked, seeing her staring blankly into her cup. Without saying a word, Stacy simply nodded.

"Listen, everyone. If you really need rest that badly, there is always the choice to reject this particular job. We've been running missions for almost a year without taking a single break. If you all want to pass, I'll call the Head and convey the message. We shouldn't undertake a mission half-heartedly. What do you say? Do you want a long break?" Patrick was a bit worried seeing how low everyone's energy was. Still, he understood the circumstances; they had finished their last assigned job just a day prior.

Exhausted, it was natural that they felt reluctant when the sudden call arrived without offering even a single day of rest.

"Let's take a break. We can reject this job," Stacy announced without hesitation.

"Very well. What about you guys?" Patrick asked, turning to the others.

"Let's take a short break, Captain. We can resume taking jobs after a week's rest." Freddie felt they truly needed downtime before accepting another assignment. The chubby guy also nodded in agreement with Stacy and Freddie.

"Guys, it's not a problem. We've earned this break, so we're going to take it. Everyone, please take your time and enjoy your coffee." Patrick assured them not to worry about any pressure from the higher-ups. Patrick enjoyed his coffee as well, which instantly refreshed his mind and restored him to full operating capacity. He flipped his left wrist and checked his digital watch; it was almost nine in the morning. He quickly finished his drink, as their appointed meeting time had arrived.

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"Okay, you guys stay here. I will meet with the Head, explain the situation, and let him know how much time off we need," Patrick said. Everyone nodded in agreement. With that, he walked out of the restaurant and headed toward the Headquarters located a few blocks away. Walking along the street, Patrick mingled perfectly with the crowd. If any Awakener were to see him, they would never suspect him of possessing any powers; he looked exactly like an ordinary, everyday office worker.

Reaching the building, Patrick stepped briskly through the main entrance, where the translucent doors automatically scanned his ID. He caught an elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor. The car paused for two other floors before finally arriving at his destination. Patrick swiftly exited, navigating a maze of hallways without breaking his stride until he reached a restricted section. There, uniformed security personnel stopped him to verify his credentials.

Upon successful verification, Patrick was granted access. He stepped into the office, marched forward, and delivered a stiff, formal salute to the figure seated behind the main desk, who was currently reviewing files on a digital pad. Patrick held his position, standing entirely motionless.

"Please sit, kid," an aged voice commanded. Patrick relaxed his posture and took the chair across from the desk. The man sitting opposite Patrick was remarkably old, easily in his nineties. His face was a map of deep wrinkles, and the loose skin of his cheeks hung heavy. Though he still possessed a full head of hair, not a single dark strand remained among the pure white. His posture was severely stooped, leaning heavily forward over the desk.

Yet, while every frail part of his body screamed that he should have retired decades ago, his eyes told an entirely different story. Sharp, calculating, and fierce, his gaze tracked across the digital documents in front of him like a battle hawk searching for its prey. He was the Title Head of the Obispo division at the Fourth UG Headquarters, responsible for handling all necessary underground operations directed from this building.

Patrick didn't know exactly how many Obispo teams operated under him, but his own team reported to him directly. His name was Callan Guldur. Patrick stared silently at the desk before him until Callan finally looked up from the documents he was reading. Patrick met the old man's gaze directly. Callan appeared momentarily puzzled, a reaction Patrick had fully anticipated, given that the entire team had been summoned for the meeting, yet he had arrived alone.

"Are you declining to take another mission?" Callan asked, quickly deducing the reason for Patrick's solitary arrival. Patrick wasn't surprised; with his vast experience, the old man had undoubtedly navigated enough situations to instantly grasp what was happening.

"Yes, sir. My team is currently suffering from severe mental exhaustion. We need some time to recover from it." Patrick didn't beat around the bush, stating honestly that they needed to rest.

"Not a problem. I expected as much," the old man replied calmly.

"I merely called you in just in case you had any interest in the job. But I completely understand the decision you've made." Patrick was slightly surprised by the old man's understanding. Because his team was always ready to work and had never asked for time off before, they had never actually experienced this kind of situation. Now, seeing that taking a break wouldn't cause any friction with the higher-ups, a profound sense of relief washed over him.

"Do you at least want to hear the job's details?" the old man asked. Patrick, who had been ready to stand up and leave, was taken aback. He knew it was strictly against protocol to reveal a mission's description to a team that had already declined it. Yet, here Callan was, offering to share the intel regardless. Patrick instinctively felt that something was wrong. Was this a test because he had refused the assignment?

"Relax, kid. Don't get stressed over a small matter," the old man said, noticing the sudden, tense shift in Patrick's demeanor and quickly moving to calm him down.

"Actually, while it is prohibited to reveal job details to anyone not officially involved, every other team is currently deployed. Yours is the only one free. If you refuse, the assignment will be shifted to another Headquarters, and it's a shame to let people from another region handle jobs in our territory." Callan explained his reasoning for bending the rules despite the rejection. Patrick was a little surprised.

He hadn't realized such a trivial, bureaucratic rivalry would drive the old man to bypass UG regulations. What was so wrong with Awakeners from another region operating in their territory? Patrick wasn't a narrow-minded person; if a job was important enough to benefit the country, anyone should be allowed to step up and do it. Weren't they all citizens of the same nation?

The idea that being born in a different region and assigned to a different Headquarters meant you couldn't take a job in this territory simply seemed silly to him. But Patrick was just a small, insignificant piece in a massive, complicated political machine. It wasn't his place to fix the government's tribalism; he just had to make the practical decisions that benefited him and the people relying on him.

"In that case, I have no objections on my end, sir. I would gladly take a look," Patrick quickly agreed, wanting to see the file before the old man could change his mind.

"Very well. I will send over the details. Take your time and give me your decision before the end of the day." The old man nodded in satisfaction. Patrick nodded in agreement and stood up. Delivering one last stiff salute to the old man, he turned and walked out of the office. He had barely taken a few steps down the hallway when his digital watch buzzed with a notification, confirming the receipt of the document.

"That was fast," Patrick muttered to himself as he walked. He quickly exited the building and headed straight back to the restaurant where his team was waiting. Upon reaching their table, he briefed them on what had happened. Realizing they needed secure privacy to discuss the job details, they immediately booked a private VIP room within the establishment.

"Geoff," Patrick called out. Hearing his name, the chubby teammate swiftly retrieved a box-like artifact covered in intricate, ancient carvings. He placed it squarely on the center table and pressed a concealed button. A split second later, a translucent, dome-like energy shield materialized, completely enclosing the four of them. Once the protective barrier was fully active, Patrick accessed his digital watch and transferred the encrypted document to the artifact.

A glowing, holographic screen projected into the air, and everyone leaned in to read.

"Concentric Trial!" Stacy was the first to blurt it out. Previously slouching nonchalantly on the sofa, she bolted upright the moment she read those two words. It wasn't just Stacy; every member of the team widened their eyes in shock. They genuinely hadn't expected the assignment to be related to the Trial. Patrick silently read through every single detail, focusing intently on the Job's main objective. Once Patrick finished processing the information, he simply leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The others were still reading and rereading the file, scouring the text to ensure they didn't miss a single crucial detail. The sheer scale of the job had completely hijacked their attention. It took a few moments for all of them to finish. When Geoff, the last one to complete the reading, finally looked up, a heavy silence fell over the room. Only an hour ago, they had firmly decided that they desperately needed an extensive break to recover their exhausted minds and bodies.

But now, staring at the high-stakes job in front of them, an undeniable, fresh surge of adrenaline began to reverberate through their veins.

"What do you guys think? Do you still want to take that vacation, or are we taking this job?" Patrick asked, breaking the long silence. This was an unprecedented opportunity. Ordinary Awakeners almost never got the chance to participate in any kind of Trial, especially a Concentric Trial. If they passed up this assignment, they would undoubtedly never get another chance like it in their lifetimes.

"What kind of question is that? Of course we're taking the job," Stacy replied. Her eyes shone brightly, and her previous dull, exhausted complexion was nowhere to be seen.

"However, the actual objective of the job seems a little odd." Stacy's expression shifted suddenly as she recalled the mission parameters. For every job they took, the upper authorities assigned a very specific goal they had to complete. Even though participating in the Concentric Trial would benefit them immensely on a personal level, their true purpose was always to fulfill the government's mandate.

"Let's not worry about that right now. First things first: the location is Faith City. We'll be meeting with Casey Merriman, the CEO of the Great Chaffey Firm. Our cover will be disguising ourselves as researchers to gain entry into an area called Solomon Valley." Patrick quickly summarized the key points they needed to remember.

"Not a problem," Stacy said.

"I have no issues with it," Freddie agreed. Geoff, however, was still deep in thought. The rest of the team waited patiently for him to give his vocal confirmation.

"No problem from my side either, Captain. But what exactly is this [Hobart Crown]?" Geoff asked, his mind still stuck on the Job's mysterious primary objective.