Chapter 075: The Saint's Unyielding Arrogance

After ruthlessly stabbing the other party in the heart, he sped away with a roar of laughter and the thunder of his exhaust—a simple pleasure of the wealthy he had longed for. He returned with flair to his Hollywood Hills villa. The house was empty; only his dog, Mike, was locked in a fierce struggle with a metal sandal.

The wolf king’s moment of glory seemed like a beautiful illusion—reality was, the husky’s true nature remained unchanged. Li Lekang walked over and gave it a kick. “Out of the way!”

He took a drink from the fridge. Mike put down the sandal, wagged his tail, and whimpered at him. With a sigh, Li Lekang grabbed a beer, popped the cap, and poured it into the macho-colored dog bowl.

The dog could outdrink him—he must be drunk!

Li Lekang sprawled on the sofa, legs habitually propped on the table, chips crackling between his teeth. He was about to turn on the TV when the phone rang. It was his namesake, Mike, calling.

“Hey Mike! How’s it going lately?”

Li Lekang greeted him with enthusiasm.

Mike’s voice carried a hint of excitement. “Great! Are you home now?”

“Yeah. Want to come over for a party? Bring a few supermodels or something?” Li Lekang said casually.

“I want to meet you—soon you might be able to throw all the supermodel parties you want,” Mike replied. The sound of an engine starting could already be heard in the background.

After about ten minutes, the doorbell rang.

A slick-haired, charming Mike entered with a bright smile, greeted Li Lekang, then the dog, and finally settled in, his tone full of astonishment. “How did you do it? The Saint Group just sent an acquisition proposal to LAA!”

“This is your doing, isn’t it? Father Lekang, senior advisor to the Saint Group—I had no idea you’d picked up this new identity. Who knows, maybe you’ll be my boss someday, my god!”

“What are you talking about?” Li Lekang was just as baffled.

But after a moment’s thought, it was clearly Sterl’s doing.

This man had always been efficient, and now with full authority, he acted as he pleased—especially attentive to his own backer. The five combat-trained nuns were one thing, but with a manor, a mansion, and religious status, how could worldly tokens be left out?

Li Lekang was signed under LAA, but he was also Sterl’s secret boss. So, with Sterl as an executive of a multinational group, didn’t this make Li Lekang his superior in a roundabout way?

With a wave of his hand, Sterl launched a takeover bid. The Saint Group, rich and domineering, bought whatever caught their eye. Money talked, after all.

Li Lekang quickly pieced things together and called Sterl.

Sterl confirmed it was indeed his arrangement, though in his words, it was “a small gesture of respect.”

The bald man was flexing.

LAA was an enterprise signing contracts worth hundreds of millions annually, yet Sterl spoke of buying it as if he were picking out a cabbage at the market.

Li Lekang could only chalk it up to the “new broom sweeps clean” syndrome, but on reflection, it was less about caprice and more about consolidating power. After all, a company isn’t run by just one man, and factional strife was rampant.

As a beneficiary, Li Lekang was happy to accept. Sterl appointed him as LAA’s “independent director”—few responsibilities, high status, and his authority unchallenged.

Just like that, Li Lekang became his own boss.

His meteoric rise was truly extraordinary—if his life were made into a TV series, it would be a miracle for the working man.

As for Mike’s exaggerated claim that Li Lekang would be his boss, he brushed it aside: “At most, we’re partners, my friend. The company still needs talents like you at the helm.”

“That’s a relief to hear!” Mike, used to his high position, couldn’t help but feel some apprehension about possible changes after the big group’s acquisition.

“So, can we throw that hot-girls party now?” Li Lekang laughed.

“Absolutely! Let’s go wild!”

…

While Li Lekang reveled in parties full of beautiful women, the internal strife of the Western Diocese under Sterl’s command gradually abated.

Though Sterl inevitably bore the stigma of backstabbing his superior, undermining unity, and being labeled a traitor—many elders still had their grievances—he dealt with dissent swiftly and decisively. Any who spoke out were swiftly silenced.

As for objections from the other bishops? He generously ceded interests, sacrificing “flesh” for their support.

He knew that at this moment, gaining the approval of the other bishops was paramount. As for the concessions? There would be time to reclaim them.

After all, the bishop wasn’t the sole authority—the tribunal overseeing the bishops, and the assembly of commissioners who elected the tribunal, formed a tripartite balance of power.

The five bishops governed together, and though Sterl became the lowest-ranking bishop by giving up so much, he secured a firm grip on the fertile lands of California.

Sterl would now slowly reconnect with the network previously cultivated by Rudolf.

Capital and politicians were ruthlessly pragmatic. Rudolf, deeply mired in guilt, would never rise again.

So much for “steadfast friendship” and “brotherhood”—such things meant nothing now. No one would speak for a man so thoroughly disgraced. In fact, they wished Rudolf would hurry up and go to hell.

Regime change was nothing unusual. As long as Sterl courted them diligently and showed ample sincerity, these politicians and capitalists would soon be happily proclaiming their “ancient friendship.”

Sterl was no stranger to the art of power.

Not long after, Rudolf “committed suicide” in his cell. Everyone saw through it—another classic case of “suicided,” in the grand old American tradition, just like Epstein before him.

Yet no one objected to Sterl’s move. After all, the other bishops and certain politicians wanted Rudolf silenced for good—that was the safest outcome.

Thus, Rudolf vanished utterly, and the voices of dissent within the Saints’ organization would gradually be forgotten with time. That was reality.

If Sterl avoided Rudolf’s arrogance and cruelty, then in the foreseeable future, he would become, in the eyes of the faithful, a benevolent, wise warrior unafraid to challenge corruption within the organization.

Most crucially, Sterl had a powerful extraordinary being as his backer.

That’s why, even in the midst of chaos, he found time and resources to acquire an entertainment agency and install Li Lekang in a senior position.

As for gifts of houses and women—those were merely the basics of courtesy. Had his power been more secure, his gifts would have been far grander.

In the administrative offices of the Saints’ Diocese in Sacramento, Sterl was reading a secret report from Sister Olivia. It contained observations on Li Lekang’s character, preferences, and more.

At the end, Olivia stated that she would inform Father Lekang of her intelligence-gathering—because she believed he was a messenger of God, and she chose to be loyal to her faith.

Between her superior and her faith, she chose the latter.

Sterl read these words and, far from angered, smiled with satisfaction.

The nun he had painstakingly cultivated had given herself, body and soul.

And that made the gift all the more sincere, did it not?