Chapter 38: Doing a Good Deed

"Mr. Snake is a wonderful person."

Similar remarks were heard by Ron countless times during today's new recruit training. Almost everyone was discussing the matter. Although everyone was exhausted, they were moved by the young man's spirit of gratitude and spontaneously took it upon themselves to defend Mr. Snake's good reputation.

To be honest, Ron was genuinely happy for the cultist who sought redemption. He was certain that the man must be thinking the same thing!

Shaking his golden hair to suppress the excitement of having performed a good deed, Ron's attention gradually shifted to another problem. Today was the end of the month, and according to the rules of the Order of Pain, the monthly examination would be held tomorrow. At that time, all recruits would be judged by their results, and the bottom ten would suffer horrific torture. They would have their flesh removed bit by bit, dying in desperate, miserable wails, serving as a lesson to motivate everyone else.

Just thinking about it sent chills down Ron’s spine. He felt he had to do something before the exam; he couldn't just sit here and wait for his doom!

Glancing at the logistics officer, who was currently wrestling with several metal parts under the dim kerosene lamp, Ron asked in a strange, hushed tone:

"Mr. Sid, do you still remember why you came here?"

Sid Flores did not train with Ron, as their specialties differed. The silver-haired youth’s cold, aloof face showed no emotion as he nodded perfunctorily.

"I know, I know. They hired me to do inventions."

It’s the princess! Weren't you here to rescue the princess!?

The golden-haired youth clutched his forehead, feeling inexplicably exhausted. At this moment, Sid was like a knight who had set out to rescue a princess from a dragon, but upon arriving at his destination, he became distracted by the rocking horse in front of the dragon's castle. From then on, he forgot the princess and lived a happy, contented life with the rocking horse.

It seemed Mr. Sid didn't need to worry about his grades, but it was different for him... Even if Ron thought with his heels, he could guess that the exams of the Order of Pain were surely filled with exercises on how to do evil things. This put Ron, who only knew how to do good, in a very difficult spot.

Looking at the moonlight outside the window, the young man’s face was full of sorrow. Of course, he wasn't worried about his own grades, but rather that the lamp in the room had gone out. The Order of Pain turned off the lights promptly at ten o'clock; even a kerosene lamp would run out of fuel by that time. In the silent environment, even through the walls, Ron could feel the other new recruit cultists in their dorms secretly reviewing their lessons under their covers.

They wanted to gain the upper hand in tomorrow’s exam, and tonight was the time for a final sprint. However, this method of damaging one’s body to improve grades made the kind-hearted Ron very worried about the recruits' health.

"Mr. Sid, reading in the dark causes irreversible damage to the eyes, doesn't it?"

Hearing this, Sid paused, wondering what kind of scheme Ron was cooking up. He nodded hesitantly, feeling that what the boy said made sense. Seeing this, Ron’s small face lit up with joy.

"Mr. Sid, let’s go out and do some good deeds!"

—

The silent night was the perfect time for hard study. While the other dorms were resting, Room 102, next to Ron’s, was still hard at work. At the stage of being a new recruit cultist, sleeping was simply out of the question. Because to step into the extraordinary and receive the grace exclusive to the "Merciful Matriarch" within the Order, one had to graduate with passing grades.

This was an important reason why, despite the strict rules of the Order of Pain, so many people still flocked to it. Mages required talent and money; the Enlightenment Society required vast capital; and the orthodox Church and the Kingdom’s knight orders required personal introductions. In contrast, the Order of Pain and other cults only required constant effort, effort, and more effort! It was completely fair and impartial.

Knock, knock, knock...

Just as the three cultists in Room 102 were staring with bloodshot eyes, cramming their lessons by the flicking moonlight, the door was suddenly knocked upon. The three burly, fierce-looking men exchanged glances, silently heightening their vigilance. New recruit cultists were terrified of the Order’s violence!

"Should we open it?" someone asked hesitantly in the silence.

Knock, knock, knock...

Before their companion could answer, the door was knocked upon again. Damn it, disturbing our study in such a way—how despicable! The three exchanged glances and tacitly grabbed the axes, crowbars, and iron saws they kept by their beds, intending to give the troublemaker outside a piece of their minds.

Bang—

The wooden dormitory door was jerked open, and three fierce gazes scanned the hallway. Standing there in the moonlight was a short youth with golden hair like silk and a handsome, innocent-looking face.

It’s this ruthless guy!

The three burly men, terrified of the Order’s violence, found their breath hitching; some even felt their legs go weak, their faces turning deathly pale.

"D-don’t come over here!" they shouted, scurrying back into the depths of the dormitory, forgetting even to close the door.

"Hey, don't be afraid. I’m not a good person... Wait, I mean, I’m not a bad person!"

Seeing this, Ron stepped forward and waved his hands, trying to explain. But the more he explained, the paler the three burly men became, until they finally huddled together in the furthest corner of the room.

Are you guys serious...

Ron’s mouth twitched. He stopped explaining and said in a heartwarming tone:

"Don't be afraid, I’m here to do a good deed for you!"

As he spoke, the three men watched as the youth pulled half a candle from his pocket; it was bumpy and appeared a turbid white color.

"Studying in the dark is bad for your eyes, so I brought this for you."

Ron tossed the turbid white candle onto the table. Without intending to stay, he smiled and said goodbye:

"Take care of your health, watch over your eye health, and most importantly, drink plenty of water~"

"Study is study, but don't damage your health. I won't chat anymore; I still have to give candles to the other dorms."

Bang—

The dormitory door was slammed shut, leaving only a heavy silence. After a long while, someone suddenly asked:

"Should we use it?"

Candles were undoubtedly the most sought-after items on the night before the exam. Not only could they greatly improve study efficiency, but they also kept the eyes in good condition, ensuring they wouldn't affect the next day's performance.

"Are you stupid? This candle must be suspicious. Do you dare trust that Gandalf to be so kind?" someone questioned Ron’s character.

"But, but that guy just said every dorm gets a share. What if the other dorms use it..."

A few minutes later, a firelight ignited in Room 102. The candle seemed to be specially made, shining many times brighter than a kerosene lamp. However, the light did not bring brightness to the eyes of the three new cultists; instead, the moment the candle was lit, it dragged their consciousness into an endless darkness.

Vaguely, they seemed to hear the doors of the dorms next door and upstairs being knocked upon as well.