On the Road

After casually packing a few things, Angel followed the three Nighthawks out of the house.

Before that, she had asked to bring her weapons: the dagger and Revolver inherited from Cole Granger, as well as the lady's pocket pistol she had recovered last night from Iron Cross Street—the one taken from her stalker.

Dunn Smith did not reject the request, but required that during Angel's "protective custody," those weapons be kept by another accompanying Nighthawk, Leonard Mitchell.

Isn't that basically the same as not bringing them at all... Angel pursed her lips, but still agreed.

When she went to the study to retrieve the guns, she secretly glanced at the hidden compartment beneath the desk. Inside lay an Extraordinary Characteristic of unknown use. It did not seem to have been touched by the visitors, but she did not dare examine it closely with Leonard standing beside her.

After taking the weapons from the drawer and handing them over to Leonard, she brought a few pounds in cash before finally leaving home under the "escort" of several Nighthawks.

It was already the next morning. Pedestrians streamed along Narcissus Street, while carriages passed through the crowd in every direction. Parked outside was the Police Carriage Angel had seen late at night a few days ago. Two crossed longswords were painted on it, surrounding a crown representing the royal family, displaying the class nature of the police system's service to the royal will.

The street was not particularly wide, and a carriage parked like this had already caused considerable disruption to traffic. Yet the people detouring around it showed no complaints. Instead, they stared in surprise at Angel, who was surrounded by several police officers and preparing to board.

I'm going to be famous throughout the neighborhood now... Angel wanted nothing more than to find a hole to crawl into. She regretted not wearing a hood before leaving. Seeing that the crowd showed signs of gathering for a closer look, she hurriedly stepped onto the carriage's footboard and climbed inside.

The interior was fairly spacious, with thick carpeting and curtains covering the windows. A faint scent of incense lingered in the air.

Daly Simone followed closely behind her. Dressed in a somewhat gypsy style, she also seemed uncomfortable with everyone's stares. She had put on her hood before leaving and only revealed her face, adorned with eyeshadow and blush, after entering the carriage. She sat across from Angel, her tense body finally relaxing.

The carriage door remained open, but the other two Nighthawks did not come inside.

Does this carriage need two drivers?

Angel wondered curiously as she parted the curtain and looked outside.

The Granger residence was located at 6 Narcissus Street, near the Iron Cross Street end. The area was filled with low row houses, their front doors opening directly onto the street, unlike the wealthy homes in the Northern District, which had their own gardens and lawns.

Outside another two-story house beside No. 6, three men and a woman were speaking in low voices. One middle-aged man held a ring of keys and introduced the property to the other three, a man and two women who clearly knew one another and stood closer together.

"Narcissus Street is right by Iron Cross Street, with convenient transportation and complete facilities nearby. The neighbors are all respectable people, teachers and government employees. A lawyer lives next door at No. 4, and further along at No. 6..."

He raised a hand toward Angel's front door just in time to see several people emerge. Two men wore the distinctive black-and-white checkered uniforms of the Tingen City Police, escorting two ladies into a four-wheeled Police Carriage. The rest of his words stuck in his throat.

I had just been boasting about how everyone nearby was respectable and properly employed, and now the police are making such a spectacle of arresting someone...

Scart of the Tingen City Housing Improvement Company began sweating as he racked his brains for a way to smooth things over. Then he saw that among the three clients before him, the young man greeted the police officer by the carriage with delighted surprise.

"Captain, why are you here too?"

They know each other? Scart stared at the two officers, especially at the stars on their shoulder insignia, and fell into thought.

Beside the carriage, Dunn Smith and Leonard Mitchell were exchanging pleasantries with a young man in formal wear. Angel listened from the window for a while and learned that this young man was Klein Moretti, a newcomer who had just joined the Tingen City Nighthawks. He had come to Narcissus Street today with his brother and sister to view houses available for rent or sale.

So he was planning to rent a place next to the Grangers? Angel looked at the two men and one woman standing behind him outside 2 Narcissus Street. One middle-aged man held the same type of brass front-door key as Angel. Judging by his clothes, he was likely an agent introducing the property.

Housing on Narcissus Street was not cheap. Buying a house cost anywhere from 600 to 1,000 pounds depending on location and size. Even renting one cost around 15 soules per week, roughly 40 pounds a year. That was already close to the income of an ordinary Tingen City worker, but naturally, one could not spend all one's income on rent. Thus, the residents here were all high-paid workers earning far above average.

The Nighthawks' salaries must be far above average for this "newcomer," Klein Moretti, to be so eager to rent a better home and improve his living conditions as soon as he found work.

As she watched Klein Moretti thank Dunn Smith for advancing his salary, Angel suddenly recognized that young, scholarly face from her memories.

So he was the young "official's son" who had ridden in the same carriage as Dunn Smith late that night. It seemed the Nighthawks coming out to perform official duties in the middle of the night was routine. Angel recalled Dunn Smith's Sleepless potion and his ability to enter dreams. It was not strange that they preferred to go out in the latter half of the night.

Sensing her gaze from inside the carriage, Klein Moretti raised his head and looked toward Angel. The moment their eyes met, he froze for a second, then hurriedly looked away and turned back to Dunn Smith.

"This is Angel Granger, a distant relative of Cole Granger, who lived here. We received a report that Cole has been missing for several days, so we are asking this lady to assist with the investigation. She is not a suspect, merely a witness."

Dunn Smith took the initiative to introduce Angel to Klein, but his voice was clearly louder than necessary for their conversation, loud enough for the surrounding onlookers to hear.

Is he worried the neighbors might misunderstand and explaining things for me?

Seeing the different looks in the crowd after they heard Dunn Smith's words, Angel could not help looking at him again. The unsmiling Sleepless no longer made her as nervous as he had when they first met.

Klein Moretti still seemed somewhat confused. He opened his mouth as if to ask more questions, then suddenly stopped as though he had remembered something. He bade farewell to Dunn Smith and Leonard Mitchell before returning to the entrance of 2 Narcissus Street.

After the remaining two exchanged a few simple words, Dunn took over the task of driving the carriage and ushered Leonard aboard. Under the gazes of the Moretti Family, other neighbors, and passersby, they drove away from Narcissus Street.

Leonard Mitchell, black-haired and green-eyed, with the air of a poet more than a police officer, bent down and entered the carriage, casually closing the door behind him. Medium Daly and Angel occupied the two facing benches. Seeing Daly sitting in the middle of her bench with a cold expression and no intention of making room, he could only smile apologetically at Angel. She raised an eyebrow and moved to the other side near the door, freeing up half a seat for Leonard.

"Thank you."

Leonard sighed in relief, thanked Angel, and sat down.

The carriage fell into an eerie silence once more, broken only by the occasional cries of street vendors outside and the rhythmic clatter of wheels rolling over the paving stones.

Less than two minutes later, unable to bear the silence, Leonard Mitchell took out the box of bullets he was holding for Angel, removed one, and began examining it closely.

His gaze swept over the intricate engravings on the casing before settling on the Goddess of the Night's emblem.

"Is this a Demon Hunter Bullet? Did you make it yourself?" Leonard turned to ask Angel Granger, who had been watching him ever since he took out the bullet.

"I made it myself, but it isn't the Demon Hunter Bullet you mentioned. I've never seen one before."

Angel truly did not know what a Demon Hunter Bullet was, so she answered honestly.

Leonard Mitchell drew his own Revolver from the shoulder holster beneath his police uniform, flicked open the cylinder, removed a bullet from one chamber, and held it out to Angel.

"This is a Demon Hunter Bullet. The engravings and emblem give it additional lethality against Extraordinary creatures."

Angel took the bullet and studied it carefully.

It was a silver-white Pistol Bullet that looked expensive at a glance. It was smaller than her Storm Convergence, around .38 caliber. Both the bullet head and casing were engraved with complex patterns, while the base bore a black-and-red Goddess of the Night Holy Emblem.

"Different engravings produce different effects. My bullets are mainly meant to increase penetration and power. They are not designed for any specific target." She returned the Demon Hunter Bullet to Leonard and explained.

Leonard nodded, returned the silver-white Demon Hunter Bullet to the cylinder, put away his gun, and picked up the crudely made but far more intimidating .45-caliber Storm Convergence bullet again.

"Demon Hunter Bullets are the standard ammunition used by Nighthawks in combat against Extraordinary powers. The Church manufactures and distributes them uniformly. Even the captain cannot make them. Where did you learn the method for making this bullet?"

He asked as though it were merely a casual question.

Angel was about to make up a lie to muddle through, but her gaze caught Daly, the Medium sitting opposite her. At some point, Daly had straightened up. In her hand was the copper goblet she had been holding when they first met at Cole's house.

Angel's heart tightened as she recalled her conversation with Dunn Smith in the dream, his occasional strange gestures, and the way he had looked behind her. She swallowed the lie she had prepared and answered honestly.

"This is a crafting method passed down through the religion I originally belonged to. I intended to use it against Mrs. Sharon."

"Originally belonged to? Do you mean another Orthodox Church?" Leonard Mitchell first looked to Daly. Only after seeing her give an almost imperceptible nod did he continue questioning.

"It is not one of the seven Churches. It is simply a religion that no longer exists in this world."

Angel spoke with sorrow, and it was not an emotion she had feigned. Thinking that she might never be able to return to her original world, she could not help but feel dejected and regretful.

"But don't worry. It was not some organization that worshipped an evil god. Besides, I should count as a believer of the Goddess of the Night now. Look, She answered my prayer and bestowed power upon this bullet."

Angel pinched a Storm Convergence bullet between her fingers and released a trace of spirituality into her fingertips. Sensing her spirituality, a faint crimson glow flowed through the engravings on the casing, and the Goddess of the Night's Holy Emblem shone brilliantly amid the light.

Leonard Mitchell's eyes widened. As though unable to believe it, he stared intently at the bullet. Only after a long while did he come back to his senses. It sounded as if he were asking someone, yet also talking to himself. "Is this truly the Goddess of the Night's power... Mm, it appears so. With divine power added, this already counts as an Extraordinary item. If it had not been confirmed that you are an Assassin, I would almost think you were an Artisan from the Steam Church."

Confirmed... So they really had another way of verifying whether what I said in the dream was true. It was probably the effect of the goblet Ms. Daly was holding. Good thing I didn't lie just now...

And what is an Artisan? He mentioned the Steam Church. Is that the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery? Angel caught the key terms in the conversation and silently analyzed them, but she did not stop speaking.

"This truly is power bestowed by the Goddess of the Night. When I made these bullets last night, I prayed to the god I once believed in but received no response. I was almost desperate then. I never expected the Goddess of the Night to answer my plea at that moment, grant me Her blessing, and allow me to finish making these bullets. Praise the Goddess."

As she spoke, Angel traced a Crimson Moon over her chest, thanking the Goddess of the Night for sending down Her blessing at the crucial moment.

"Ah... Praise the Goddess." Leonard Mitchell hurriedly echoed her, though the doubt on his face had not faded. "You made them last night? You mean you first prayed to your former god for a blessing?"

He hesitated, but still asked, "Forgive my presumption, but how long have you... believed in the Goddess of the Night?"

Angel glanced at Ms. Daly, who remained silent but still held the copper goblet in her hand. She had no choice but to tell the truth. "I have not believed in the Goddess of the Night for very long. It was mainly because of everything that has happened recently, especially..." She phrased it tactfully for a few moments, then decided it was not something that needed to be kept secret. "...More specifically, probably less than twenty-four hours."

Huh?

Leonard Mitchell turned to Daly Simone, who held 3-0688, the Truth-Telling Goblet, and saw that she too was looking at him with an equally puzzled expression.

The truth?