Arriving at the street corner, the biting wind swept across the open space between buildings, hitting Agatha squarely in the face, bringing her to full wakefulness.
However, in her mind, there still lingered a series of questions that had nearly shaken her entire worldview, reshaping her cognition—
"Doesn't your Frost Church award a bonus to citizens who actively report on heretic clues?"
"You've never used a bank account? Does your church normally not interact with ordinary people's lives?"
"You didn't realize that was a bank account number?"
Agatha had never imagined that the biggest faux pas of her life while dealing with a Transcendent being would be under such circumstances.
And she was quite certain that the reaction of the bishop of the big cathedral, Ivan, and those cryptographers and diviners who were still zealously studying "secret numerology" in the cathedral wouldn't be much different from her own.
