Chapter 131 Citizen Help Center

While Duncan and Alice went to the cemetery together, Morris and Vanna weren't idle either. Early in the morning, they arrived at the "Citizen Help Center" in the southern part of the Upper District to complete something Duncan had instructed – seeking a stable and legal foothold in the Frost City-State, preferably with one or two identities that could be openly used.

After all, they might be active in this city-state for a long time, and they couldn't live like those cultists, hiding everywhere.

Considering that Tyrion's contacts in the city were no longer reliable, Morris decided to find a way himself.

The Frost Citizen Help Center was a large domed building, with two long side buildings extending from the main body. Although called a citizen help center, the building also served to receive visitors entering the city-state and undertake a large number of third-party intermediary services, from housing sales and registration to temporary permits, to short-term maids, gardeners, and laundry workers. Almost everything could be done here – its long side buildings were filled with various registration windows and offices, and the huge domed building was a perpetually noisy and crowded hall, which was very different from Pland.

As soon as they entered the huge domed building, a wave of heat hit them. Frost's unique high-pressure heating system dispelled the winter chill, and bright electric lights hung high in the dome, illuminating the entire building.

It had just opened not long ago, but many people had already poured in. Citizens seeking short-term work or registering housing sales moved between countless windows and counters. The noisy crowd was interspersed with the "click" and "hiss" of the constantly activated air transport tubes. Duncan was obviously a little unaccustomed to the environment. He carefully dodged the surrounding crowd and muttered to Alice, "In Pland, human resources and housing sales counters are not placed in one building."

"You have to consider the cost of heating large buildings, and the time it takes to renovate a cold pump exchange station," Alice shook her head. "Most of the city's basic municipal facilities were left over from the era of the Frost Queen, but that glorious era has passed. After the Great Rebellion, the Frost City-State relied on the boiling gold industry to barely recover 40% of its former vitality, but it is not a simple matter to renovate the Queen's underground pipeline system and steam power network from scratch."

"So they just keep using it like this?" Duncan's eyes widened. "This is an antique from half a century ago!"

"What else?" Morris sighed. "On the one hand, the city is declining, on the other hand, there is population pressure, and the reduction in habitable area caused by the cliff collapse... The facilities from half a century ago may indeed be a bit cramped to use now, but at least they are barely enough. Since they are enough, then continue to use them..."

"In fact, this is not only a problem for Frost, but also for many old industrial city-states. Cities as vibrant as Pland are rare."

Long wooden counters were placed against the wall, divided into several grids by iron fences. Behind each grid sat a staff member in a gray-blue uniform – the expressions on their faces were as rigid as the iron fences beside them, and they obviously intended to maintain such expressions until they got off work.

"We arrived on a ghost ship that is not tolerated by the world. You know, normal procedures will never solve this problem," Duncan said softly, his tone seeming to carry a smile. "Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures."

"……I wonder how likely it is that Mr. Duncan can get a legal ship registration certificate for the *Silvershore*?"

Morris's expression remained normal as he spread his hands frankly: "Lost it, probably lost it when leaving the dock. The ship left too."

Duncan frowned and looked up at Morris.

Morris's relaxed expression looked a little awkward. Duncan, who was beside him, touched the tip of his nose and turned his head silently.

Duncan looked at Morris, who was sighing, with a smile that was not a smile. From childhood to adulthood, this was the first time he had seen such a worried expression on the face of this old scholar who occasionally used "rigorous scholarship and adherence to rules." It seemed... quite interesting.

"But I have other things," Morris

While speaking, Morris rummaged in his arms, took out a folded document and a small book with a dark red cover and handed them over, "It should serve as legal proof of identity."

"...Okay," Morris sighed, looking at the proof document in his hand, "Shirley must not know about this – next time I encounter this situation, I would rather make a real ship ticket first."

While speaking, Morris found the location of the mobile population registration counter on the dazzling route guide map above the hall. He and the tall Duncan weaved through the crowd,

Finally, they arrived in front of a relatively quiet counter.

The clerk in the grid immediately stopped what he was doing, raised his head, and said with a poker face and a hint of displeasure: "That's not possible, you must have proof documents. Go back to the dock to reissue them."

"Which dock?" The middle-aged clerk with a sallow complexion raised his eyelids and glanced at the old man opposite him. When he noticed that there was a 1.8-meter man standing behind the old man, he was obviously stunned, but the next moment he returned to a business-like tone, "Please show the dock proof documents and the ship ticket."

The clerk subconsciously waved his hand: "Without the dock proof documents, it's not possible, other things are also..."

He saw the mark on the small book, and he didn't say the rest of the sentence. Then he reached out and opened the folded document, his eyes scanning over it.

Morris sighed, looking at the middle-aged clerk in front of him who was obviously a little nervous, but still staring straight at him.

"The academic pass permit issued by the Academy of Truth and the Boundless Sea Navigation Council, the holder can stay and visit in all the city-states protected by the true gods. During the stay, the local city-state university affiliated with the Academy of Truth automatically

Acting as the guarantor," Morris said, and pointed to the red booklet, "This is my certificate, a double degree in theology and the degree from the Academy of Truth, with the rank of professor."

The poker-like expression changed instantly.

A relaxed expression appeared on Morris's face.

The middle-aged clerk with a sallow complexion was stunned for a while, and finally slowly raised his head, looking a little at a loss: "Um... Good morning, Professor Morris... It's a pleasure to meet you, of course your identity is legal.

But the clerk then paused, as if hesitating for a moment, but still insisted: "But... I at least have to know which ship you were on, this is... the rule."

"You want to know which ship I was on," he said with a sigh, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes, "Issue the certificate."

The clerk was stunned, and a dazed look seemed to flash in his eyes. Then he lowered his head and started operating the clattering punch card machine, and put the punch card into the pressure pipe container next to the counter.

"We need a residence permit, and we also want to find a short-term rental house," Morris came to one of the grids, sat down on the creaking iron chair, and said to the middle-aged man with a sallow complexion inside, "We just landed today."

A moment later, accompanied by the hissing and clicking sounds in the pipeline, the card sent back from an approval office deep in the building was returned to the counter here.

The clerk inserted the punch card into a small machine for reading, confirmed the receipt number and anti-counterfeiting password, and then began to write the content required for the certificate, while saying without raising his head: "I can only issue the certificate here - you have to take the certificate to the west side building and find window A-12. There should be short-term rental houses that meet your requirements there."

"Thank you," Morris took the issued document, paused, and muttered softly, "Sorry."

After speaking, he and Duncan quickly left the counter and walked towards the next window.

"This is the first time I've done this kind of thing," the old gentleman couldn't help but say in a low voice after walking away for a while, "I originally planned to get this done through the normal document process..."

"What do you think?"

Duncan stopped talking.

At the same time, Agatha, who had just started the on-site investigation and had not had time to return to the cathedral, received an urgent report from her subordinates from Cemetery No. 3 on the way.

An anonymous letter – from that unspeakable visitor.

As soon as she left, the letter was sent to the cemetery.

Should she lament this accidental miss, or should she lament the strange behavior of that "visitor"?

Sitting in the steam car, Agatha looked at the letter that had just been delivered to her hand, her eyes gradually becoming a little dull.

Anxiety spread in her heart, and one thing suddenly seemed urgent.

He put away the letter, quickly calculating in his mind.

"Turn around, go to East Port."

The subordinate driving in front was a little surprised: "Aren't we going to the cathedral first?"

"Change the plan, go to East Port first," Agatha said decisively, "I have a not-so-bad premonition... Something might want to take the opportunity to land."

The subordinate driving was confused, but the instinct to obey orders quickly suppressed the doubts in his heart.

The dark steam car accelerated at the next intersection, turned, and then sped towards the port area in the east of the city-state.