Money allows you to live well within the rules, while power lets you make the rules and reap the wealth.
The forr are mostly black market rchants, while the latter are the kingdom's rulers—nobles.
But above both of these is sothing that can disdain money and power—absolute violence that suppresses everything!
This is the origin of the Professional Association's esteed status, and also the foundation for the existence of the Church of Dawn and the Church of Truth.
The Professional Association, like the two churches, not only has branches all over the continent but also boasts the continent's top experts. Although this power is quite dispersed, when needed, many strong individuals who have benefited from the Professional Association will still stand up.
Unlike the Church of Dawn and the Church of Truth, the Professional Association is an indispensable part of coordinating and deploying the existing Extraordinary Beings.
It greatly aids in the stability of the empire, and due to its loose structure, its status in the minds of the empire's decision-makers far surpasses that of the two churches.
It is considered a supportive partner.
"I am Ogre Kessing, and I'm here to find Foucault."
Probably because of a grudge in his heart.
Ogre rarely ca to the Professional Association; most of his previous tasks were taken in the black market.
Of course, Ogre is not soone who gives up easily.
Mainly, he didn't have the strength of a true Professional before, and he didn't care much for the apprentice-level rewards. With that effort, he might as well take on more challenges in the Arena.
So Ogre never went for the Professional positioning.
"Are you the martial artist apprentice who defeated Foucault and Lange? But you ca at a bad ti; he just went out."
Before the attending squire could respond, a knight in heavy armor spoke to Ogre first.
The five-star bronze badge on his chest indicated his Professional level—senior Professional.
This is the strength positioning done by the Professional Association for Professionals.
The number of stars on the badge represents the reliability level of the Professional; the more stars, the higher the credibility level, and the higher the degree of expertise and legendary status within the sa strength.
At least zero stars (representing no tasks taken).
At most nine stars (this level must have accomplished legendary events within that grade).
This star rating is not fixed; long-term inactivity or Professional promotion will reduce the stars on the badge.
The material of the badge represents the strength of the profession.
The lowest is the apprentice badge made of white porcelain.
It indicates that the Professional is not yet mainstream, but still poses a considerable challenge for those untrained ordinary people.
The black iron level represents that the Professional has stepped into the professional field and mastered extraordinary powers.
The next bronze level represents that the Professional has reached a senior standard in the extraordinary field—considered a general strong person, so this level is also called the senior level.
The senior level standard often fluctuates, but overall it is judged based on different stages of professional power.
For example, a knight who has awakened personal abilities.
Or a mage who has condensed a dark magic core.
And a martial artist who can project a vitality phantom, all belong to this level.
This standard roughly corresponds to a wizard who has consud a second forbidden potion.
At the silver level, the standard becos relatively vague, with the only criterion being that the holder must be able to defeat twenty-five senior bronze-level Professionals in one breath.
Professionals at this level are called senior silver-level Professionals, also known as advanced Professionals!
As for anything beyond that, it's not sothing Ogre can comprehend.
The highest level Professional he has seen is Yard, with his silver Knight of Discipline badge, equivalent to a senior silver-level Professional.
That's why Ogre is so curious about that mysterious Priest.
"Just a fluke, by the way, you are…"
Ogre looked at the face sowhat similar to Foucault's and roughly guessed his identity.
"Young man, I'm Foucault's third uncle, my na is Leidy Chromie, you can call Uncle Leidy." Leidy Chromie's hospitality took Ogre by surprise.
Are all the nobles from another city so polite?
"Alright, Uncle Leidy, just call Ogre. You ntioned Foucault went out?" Even out of respect for the strong, Ogre didn't feel calling him uncle was a loss.
"Yes, he went to the talent market, not too far away. Is there sothing you need from him? Foucault ntioned you—he said he wanted to make friends with you."
Leidy spoke with a smile, his gentle tone leaving no room for criticism.
Completely devoid of the arrogance typical of so frontier nobles.
"He wanted to invite to the tavern for a drink." Ogre scratched the back of his head, pretending to be simple-minded.
So things don't need to be said too clearly.
"Haha, you frontier folks speak so directly, go find Foucault then, he hasn't gone far, you might run into him on the way; or if you don't mind, you can wait for him in my lounge."
Leidy pointed to the lounge in the Professional Association—a place for Professionals to recover, usually with a Priest from the Church of Dawn to help with relaxation and healing.
The price is a bit steep, but senior Professionals or those with five stars and above can enter for free.
"The Chromie family stands by their word, that drink is on him, I think you two could beco good friends."
Perhaps fearing Ogre would feel uncomfortable, Leidy added a sentence, usually, statents starting with the family na carry significant weight.
"No need, Uncle Leidy, I'll find Foucault myself, I'm familiar with this place." Ogre glanced around the spacious Professional Association and then waved his hand—politely declining Leidy's invitation.
He didn't want to waste ti in the lounge.
Moreover, he didn't want to owe anything without rit.
Ogre didn't want to leave a bad impression on Foucault—that would delay his money-making.
"Alright then, I wish you both a pleasant ti, I'll be here for a while, so if you need help, feel free to ask." Leidy's words were well-spoken.
But Ogre didn't dare to fully trust them.
If he really asked Leidy to help fight the Ogre Chief, Ogre felt Leidy might just beat him up.
"Thank you, Uncle Leidy, goodbye." Ogre was adept at saying the right things to the right people.
He had a flexible communication system.
For instance, when dealing with hooligans, Ogre preferred to communicate with fists and weapons.
"Goodbye." Watching Ogre leave, Leidy finally retracted his smile.
"Kessing… such a familiar family na, I need to check it out, I feel like I've heard it sowhere…"
…
The talent market is a gathering place for Professionals above apprentice level.
Unlike the Professional Association, the professions here are mainly looking for long-term stable positions.
In other words, it's a place to find jobs.
It's a great place for nobles to select followers and servants.
It's also where various professional adventure groups recruit teammates and take a break.
The largest tavern in the city is located in the talent market.
It's worth ntioning—it's said that the land of the talent market was originally a large slave trading market.
In a sense, its function isn't much different, just less visibly bloody.
"Foucault!" Ogre spotted Foucault and Lange as soon as he arrived at the talent market.
No wonder, they stood out.
In the northern frontier city, due to the need to fend off barbarian and demon beast invasions, clothing has long been simplified, and headgear is almost nonexistent for ease of battle, even nobles and mages rarely adorn themselves.
But Foucault and Lange were different, they might as well have "wealthy" written on their faces.
Oh, it already is, so that's fine.
Whether it was Foucault's mage apprentice attire or Lange's armor, both were exceptionally exquisite, adorned with gems and gold patterns.
Clearly different from the practical pursuits of the northern frontier.
At least frontier knight apprentices wouldn't fight without helts for the sake of looking cool.
"You are…" Foucault hesitated, looking at Ogre's now plain young face.
"I'm Ogre Kessing, the defender in the frontier Arena."
With that, Ogre made Foucault imdiately rember, and he joyfully welcod him, "It's you, co, co, let buy you a drink at the tavern."
It's no wonder Foucault didn't recognize him at first.
No one would associate the young, simple-looking boy in front of them with the 'Gourt' who defeated nurous apprentices to beco the Strongest Mortal.
"I want to fight you again!" Lange, upon recognizing Ogre, imdiately challenged him.
Clearly, he hadn't forgotten the scene of being knocked out with one punch in front of everyone.
That was truly embarrassing.
Getting taken down in two moves by an apprentice of the sa level is shaful anywhere.
Of course, more importantly.
Lange felt he only lost because he was careless and didn't dodge.
If he hadn't been ambushed or tricked, could he have lost?
Didn't you see Ogre almost injure his hand punching him in the face?
Of course, the most important reason is—this ti, he's wearing a helt.
"Is there money involved? My appearance fee is quite high." Ogre smiled nonchalantly; he wouldn't turn down money unless there was a blood feud.
"How much?" Lange asked instinctively.
"Lange, quiet down!" Foucault instinctively covered his forehead with his hand, genuinely feeling a headache.
Unlike Lange, Foucault wasn't a knight and didn't strictly follow knightly rules. He knew very well—his defeat was no accident.
"Sorry, Ogre, let's head to the tavern first." Foucault glared at Lange before apologizing to Ogre and extending an invitation.
With Foucault's glare, Lange instantly quieted down.
Because he knew Foucault was genuinely a bit angry.
Though he had a good relationship with Foucault and could joke around a bit, their positions were inherently unequal.
The relationship between Foucault and Lange's families was one of subordination.
This relationship extended to every family mber.
And Lange was Foucault's subordinate knight.
Their fortunes were tied together.
"No worries, I don't mind." Ogre smiled slightly, indicating he wasn't bothered.
It's hard to dislike soone like Foucault, even if he's pretending, he does it with genuine grace.
Such a person makes for a good ordinary friend.
"Ogre, I'm glad you could make it. I'll cover the tavern expenses, and we'll discuss why I invited you later."
Foucault made a standard invitation gesture.
"Alright, I won't be polite then." With soone treating him, Ogre had no objections.
As for what Foucault wanted to discuss, Ogre already had so guesses…
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