# 91
Chapter 91 – Agent of Time
While Lin Qiye and the rest pinched their noses and forced down raw meat, a sudden aroma drifted through the canteen. Everyone perked up and swiveled their heads in unison.
Old Sun came hustling over, a huge tray in his hands stacked with dish after dish, and planted himself in front of Mask Squad.
“Braised pork, chicken stewed with mushrooms, ants climbing a tree, steamed bass… sss! Are we getting the royal treatment or what?!” Xuanwo gulped, eyes sparkling at the feast.
“Heh, you little brats are rarely back—’course I’ve got to spoil you.” Old Sun rubbed his calloused hands on his apron and grinned.
“Thanks, Grandpa Sun!”
“Thank you, Grandpa Sun!”
The others chimed in, chopsticks already flying as they dug in with laughter.
Gulp—gulp—
In the silent hall, the sound of swallowed saliva echoed. Even the recruits who’d managed to choke down plain buns moments ago suddenly lost their appetite.
Two hundred pairs of starving-wolf eyes bored into Mask Squad’s round table, ready to pounce and snatch the food at any second.
Wang Mian swept them a glance, quietly laid his Mandarin Arrow on the table… and went back to eating.
“I protest! Why do they eat like kings while we chew buns and raw meat?!” a recruit blurted.
“Hmph.” Old Sun’s face darkened. “When you pups finally graduate and come back, I’ll cook you the same spread—deal?”
Just then Wang Mian seemed to remember something and waved Lin Qiye over.
“Qiye, come have some.”
Whoosh—!!
Every recruit spun to stare at Lin Qiye, still gnawing raw meat.
Lin Qiye raised a brow, hesitated, then carried his tin tray to Mask Squad’s table and sat.
“Here, try the chicken.” Wang Mian scooped a clean bowl and started piling food for him.
“Xuanwo, pass the fish.”
“On it.”
“Some broth too—nice and fresh.”
“I’ll grab chopsticks.”
“Rice? We’ve got more if you need.” Qiangwei stood to ladle him a heap.
They were so courteous Lin Qiye grew embarrassed, waving both hands. “No need, really. I just came to ask something—I’ll stick with this.”
Yuegui blinked. “With good food right here you still want raw meat?”
“Yep.”
“Look behind you—your buddies’ eyes are green. Sure you won’t switch?”
“I’m a recruit; I eat what recruits eat.” Lin Qiye shook his head firmly.
Since he insisted, the squad settled back down. Wang Mian regarded him with approval. “You want to ask about Agents?”
“Right.”
“Fire away. If I know, I’ll tell you.”
Lin Qiye thought for a moment. “What exactly is the relationship between an Agent and a god?”
“That’s deep…” Wang Mian pondered. “In essence, it’s one word: contract.”
“Contract?”
“Gods rarely appear directly among humans. When they need something done, they pick a suitable person. The two strike a mysterious bargain: the god grants part of their divine power, and in return the Agent completes certain tasks.
Not everyone can become an Agent—you must be recognized by the god first. Only then is the contract possible.”
“Contract…” Lin Qiye murmured, puzzled.
If there really was a contract, why didn’t he know anything about it? The Seraph had given him power yet demanded nothing… It felt more like a gift.
“What does the Time God want you to do?” he asked, then caught himself. “If it’s confidential, forget I asked.”
“No secret.” Wang Mian shook his head. “Eight or nine years ago, still an ordinary guy, I was staggering across the street when a drunk truck barreled at me. Before impact, time froze.
The Time God stepped from the void, signed a contract, granted me his God’s Ruins. In exchange, I must someday enter Takamagahara and retrieve something for him.”
“Takamagahara?” Lin Qiye started. “The home of the Japanese gods?”
“Exactly.”
“And it really exists?”
“If the Time God says so, it does. I just haven’t found it yet.” Wang Mian sighed.
“You joined Night Watch by choice?”
“Yeah. Before that, agents of the Church of the Ancient Gods tried to recruit me.” He spoke calmly. “I refused.”
“Because your goal has nothing to do with factions, they figured you might join?”
“Right. Some of them even have clues about Takamagahara, but I want no part of those lunatics.”
“So they gave up?”
“Hardly. If they can’t recruit you, they kill you. After I enlisted, they ambushed me three or four times. Lucky I’m tough—and” —he glanced at his teammates, smiling—“I’ve got reliable comrades. One-on-one or in a brawl, they don’t dare touch me now.”
“Ahem, Captain… save the sentiment for after meals; it’s nauseating,” Xuanwo muttered.
“But it’s true.”
“Even so, pick a better moment! This is awkward!” Qiangwei glared.
“…I’ll work on the timing.”
Lin Qiye sat quietly, watching the seven banter and bicker. After a long while, a faint smile touched his lips…