Mrs. Sharon

The knocking came from the front door.

Did people in this world make a habit of visiting others in the middle of the night?

Watching the Crimson Moon in the sky outside, Angel hesitated over whether to open the door.

First, she needed a weapon that felt right in her hand. She looked around, her gaze passing over the poker beside the fireplace before shifting to the flowerpot by the study door. Finally, as if drawn by some mysterious force, it returned to the desk before her.

Following the memories in her mind, she opened the desk drawer. After taking out a thick dictionary, she lifted the false bottom beneath it. Inside lay a neat stack of banknotes, more than ten scattered coins, a pocket watch that looked quite valuable, a yellowed notebook, and a Revolver resting quietly atop it.

Ignoring everything else, Angel reached out and picked up the Revolver. The wooden grip and metal body gave her a long-missed sense of security.

Time waited for no one. She quickly swung out the cylinder and confirmed that all five chambers were loaded with live, unfired rounds. Then she removed the bullets and estimated their weight and dimensions.

".45 caliber. This isn't suitable for a female; the recoil will probably be a little heavy." Angel studied the bullets in her hand. "But the strength hidden in this Female body is no less than that of an adult Male. Holding this three-pound pistol one-handed doesn't take the slightest effort. It even feels easy." She reloaded the cylinder and rapidly shifted through several shooting stances. This slender arm was astonishingly strong, giving her greater confidence in the battle that might follow.

Knock, knock— The knocking sounded again. Angel stopped hesitating, picked up the Revolver, and headed toward the living room. To be safe, she also brought the poker.

Avoiding the bay window facing the street, she arrived beside the front door. There was no sound behind it, as though the visitor had grown tired of waiting and left.

Angel was not fooled by such appearances. She recalled a basic ability possessed by "Assassins"—or rather, all Beyonders: Spirit Vision.

She pressed her tongue against the back molar in the lower Left Hand side of her mouth and activated the Spirit Vision ability that had originally belonged to Cole Granger.

Beyonders who entered the Spirit Vision state could observe spiritually endowed objects within their sight, including all kinds of mystical items, materials rich in spirituality, and, naturally, living beings.

This spiritual radiance could even pass through relatively thin obstacles.

Under Spirit Vision, aside from the faint spirituality radiating from her own body in the dim house, there was only a faint white glow behind the door, yet one bright enough to seep through its cracks.

After repeatedly confirming through Spirit Vision that the visitor was still standing behind the door, she hurriedly shut it off. In just those dozen seconds, Angel felt her spirituality nearing exhaustion. Her unstable body and mind were certainly part of the reason, but the immense spiritual drain of Spirit Vision was equally obvious.

With her right hand holding the gun against the edge of the doorframe and her left gripping the poker, she asked in a low voice, "Who is it?" If you don't answer within five seconds, I'll shoot, she silently added.

"It's me." A gentle voice came from behind the door, carrying a soft, melodic tremor. It sounded like a young Female.

After thinking for a moment, Angel remembered who the voice belonged to: Mrs. Sharon.

Sharon Hoy was Tingen City's most famous and beautiful widow, as well as the most sought-after lady in social circles. She had been Baron Hoy's second wife, but had unfortunately become his widow.

Mrs. Sharon was well liked in both Tingen's business and political circles. It was not only because of her special status, but also because of her social finesse and her "secret relationships" with several political figures. Yet to Cole Granger, Mrs. Sharon's most special identity was that she had guided him into the Beyonder world and become his mentor as an "Assassin."

According to the memories in her mind, Mrs. Sharon was also a Beyonder. Like Cole, she had advanced from "Assassin," but Cole did not know her exact Sequence. He only knew that she was at least a Sequence 7 "Witch."

Now that she knew who was outside, Angel still did not open the door. Instead, she cocked the Revolver's hammer, deliberately letting the sound of metal parts scraping reach the other side. "Please leave."

The person outside seemed utterly unconcerned about having a gun pointed at her and calmly said:

"Heh, it sounds like you've successfully advanced. I told you that this advancement would be a rebirth for you in every sense. Once your condition stabilizes in a few days, I suggest we meet at the usual place. It will help you master the Potion's power."

"I left what you were looking for on the mailbox. That fellow put up a reward of 200 Pounds in the Tingen Morning Post. You can go collect it; consider it my reward for your successful advancement."

"Oh, and I also brought you some Female clothes. You don't want to go out in Male clothing after daybreak, do you?"

After leaving behind those three strange remarks, the person outside fell silent. Angel activated Spirit Vision once more, but found nothing at all.

Yet her body did not relax in the slightest. She continued pointing the gun at the door until five minutes passed without any movement outside, only then carefully putting away her weapons.

She had gambled right.

In Cole Granger's memories, he had had a good relationship with Mrs. Sharon. Especially after becoming an "Instigator," perhaps because she believed Cole's rapidly growing power was worth investing in, Mrs. Sharon had taken their relationship a step further. Well, that kind of relationship.

From Angel's perspective as an observer, she could almost certainly conclude that Mrs. Sharon had used the Charm ability of an Instigator or an even higher Sequence. But Cole Granger himself had undoubtedly been wrapped around Mrs. Sharon's finger.

It was not until the eve of advancing to "Witch," when he learned that the Potion would turn him into a Female, that he finally woke as if from a dream. He resolutely rejected Mrs. Sharon's demands, declaring that he would never drink the Potion.

Of course, Angel being here showed that Cole's so-called "never" had not been all that firm.

Based on the relationship between the two in her memories, Angel successfully played the role of a Female whose emotions were unstable after advancing. She shut Mrs. Sharon outside and successfully muddled through this encounter.

She had a feeling that if she opened the door and the two met face-to-face, things would definitely take a turn for the worse.

After confirming that Mrs. Sharon had left, Angel opened the front door and poked her head out to look around. Seeing no one on the street, she swiftly reached out, took the package from the mailbox beside the door, then shut and locked the door.

Could there be some trap or curse?

Angel stared at the package on the table, lost in thought.

She poked the package with the poker. Its outer cloth caved in easily, and whatever was inside did not seem to be hard.

The heart that had calmed after acquiring a weapon began to stir again. Angel knew full well that this was a change brought about by coming into contact with Mrs. Sharon—the anxiety caused by the gap in their strength. Even her soft words had carried some inexplicable effect.

It made her realize that "language" could also be a weapon for Beyonders.

Setting the poker aside, she raised her gun in one hand and lifted the package's cloth covering with the other. An exquisite badge rolled onto the table, while several neatly folded garments lay beneath it.

Had she really come just to deliver clothes?

Placing the Revolver within easy reach, she picked up one garment from the table and shook it open. It turned out to be a surprisingly conservative dress. The other outfits were also Female dresses, and there were even several sets of underwear and two pairs of flat shoes.

"At least they aren't high heels..." Angel comforted herself. "And the clothes aren't revealing." Even though she had inexplicably become a Female, she still could not accept clothing that exposed too much.

Setting down the Female clothes, she picked up the badge that had slid aside when she opened the package and carefully examined its appearance.

It was a brass badge roughly half a palm in size, shaped like a symmetrical octagon and heavy in the hand. In the center of one side was a broad-bean-sized, teardrop-shaped amethyst that reflected a strange glow under the combined illumination of the red moonlight and yellow lamplight. The other side was engraved with the words: "To Quentin Cohen—Azk Eggs." On closer inspection, there was another line of elegant small lettering beneath it: "Carry it close. Remember this."

So it had been a gift from someone else. No wonder its owner had offered 200 Pounds for it. Judging by its craftsmanship and cheap amethyst, she could probably buy one from a roadside gift shop for ten pounds, perhaps with a little extra for the engraving.

After confirming that it was merely an ordinary commemorative badge, Angel lost interest in it and casually tossed the "200 Pounds" aside. Since Mrs. Sharon had said she could claim the reward with it, Angel did not mind trying when she had the time.

With the "Mrs. Sharon crisis" resolved, she began considering her current situation again.

Whenever she thought of how she had been a man in his thirties, only to suddenly arrive in another world, become a young girl, and inherit a string of murder cases, Angel's head began to throb. She almost wanted to put the Revolver to her temple and pull the trigger, just to see whether she could return to her original world.

But her intuition told her it could not be as simple as dying her way back the same way she had died coming here. Her death on Earth must have triggered some extremely special mechanism, allowing her soul to come to this world and possess the equally dead Cole Granger, only to become what she was now under the effects of the "Witch" Potion.

Right, Cole Granger was Male, while I now have a Female body. What do those murder cases he committed have to do with me? No matter what, they can't pin them on me, can they?

Once she thought it through, Angel immediately breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, she did not need to worry about being hunted by the authorities now. Being wanted would not only make it impossible for her to move about the city; as a former Templar Knight, it would also place enormous psychological pressure on her, even if she truly had not done those things.

But even if she did not need to worry about Cole Granger's crimes affecting her, Angel still needed a legal identity. Her former Male identity could no longer be used, even if it was not wanted.

She wondered whether getting forged papers could solve the problem. After all, this world had no internet or databases. As long as they looked convincing enough, it should be easy to pass them off.

Besides a false identity, she also needed to find a new residence as soon as possible and thoroughly sever ties with the identity of "Cole Granger." That way, even if his past crimes were truly discovered, the police would find only this empty residence and Cole Granger, vanished without a trace.

Once she had settled down, she could think of a way to return. This was also a world with extraordinary abilities, so the possibility of returning to her Hometown was still quite high.

Right, she also had to clear away the ritual traces in the basement to keep the police from connecting Cole Granger to changing his identity through a Potion...

After arranging these matters in order of urgency, Angel was immediately filled with energy. She found a Bucket, mop, and brush in the washroom, then scrubbed the strange radial bloodstains from the basement. She also rearranged the table, candlesticks, and other furniture, while tossing the cauldron used to brew the Potion into the kitchen, doing everything she could to prevent anyone from associating the place with anything supernatural.

Although the scrubbed floor still retained a faint bloody stench, mixed with the damp air of the basement, it was no longer so noticeable. Angel decided that she would later go out and buy some cheap meat close to expiration, then pretend she had forgotten it in a corner of the basement. Before long, the rotten smell would completely cover the scent of blood.

After bringing the Bucket and mop back to the washroom and cleaning them, Angel changed out of the clothes already soaked in sweat and dirty water. She took a quick shower and put on the Female clothing Mrs. Sharon had sent.

"I have to say, this body's face and figure are both far better than any female celebrity I ever saw on television or online." Angel clumsily put on unfamiliar Female underwear. Looking at the graceful body in the mirror, she inevitably drifted into her thoughts.

Before she knew it, she had stood before the washroom mirror for a quarter of an hour.

"This is too terrifying. Even I can't resist it. If other men saw..." Angel shuddered and snapped out of it. She hurriedly fastened the top button of her dress, covering the pale skin between her collarbones and neck. Then she casually made the sign of the Cross over her chest, begging forgiveness for her confusion.

Next, she needed to solve the problem of her stomach while also checking out the area around her residence—these two tasks could be handled together, because Angel had discovered that although there was a kitchen here, it was completely unusable.

She had already inspected the kitchen. It seemed that Cole Granger, who had originally lived here, had no habit of cooking for himself. The cookware showed no trace of oil or smoke. The stove could still be lit, but the seasonings were unusable. The salt had absorbed moisture and clumped together, the black pepper jar had tiny white specks that were probably mold, and even the lard had grown a bizarre layer of fuzz. Only half a tin of tea leaves had survived because it had stayed dry.

After dumping all the spoiled seasonings into the trash, Angel decided to go out and find something to eat.

Perhaps because her soul and body were merging more closely, from waking in the middle of the night until this morning, Angel had constantly recalled fragments of memories. Most were general knowledge that did not involve specific recollections, such as how to use a Gas Meter, the exchange rate between Gold Pounds, Soule, and pennies—apparently they used pennies here too—the fact that a year also had 365 or 366 days, seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, and so on.

There were also a few vague memories about Cole Granger's background, but most had happened recently. The older the memories were, the blurrier they became, until no amount of effort could bring them back.

"I'll go to the restaurant he frequented first. The prices are reasonable, and the food tastes good." Angel pulled open the desk drawer and selected a ten-pound note from the neatly stacked banknotes in the false compartment. After hesitating for a moment, she put it back, replacing it with three one-pound notes, two five-Soule notes, and a small handful of Copper Pennies.

Gold Pounds in this world had far greater purchasing power than pounds sterling on Earth. Taking large banknotes out to buy things was neither convenient nor safe.

Still, Cole really had been rich. There had to be at least three hundred Gold Pounds in this drawer alone. It seemed he had made quite a haul before the Assassin had washed his hands of the trade. Looking at the ill-gotten banknotes of various denominations in the drawer, Angel lost the last trace of guilt she felt about casually taking someone else's money.

Before leaving, she used strips torn from an old bedsheet to make a simple holster. She tied the Revolver to her right thigh, and once she lowered the loose skirt, it was completely invisible from the outside.

Stuffing the banknotes and coins into her pocket, Angel left through the back door, passed through the sparsely populated back alley, and took a long detour back to the main street.

The house that temporarily belonged to her was located at 6 Narcissus Street in Tingen City. It was one unit in a row of attached homes, with a gray-blue exterior and a hipped roof. Although it had only two floors, its chimney rose high enough that it was no shorter than the three-story buildings beside it.

It was eight in the morning, the busiest time of day. Vendors crowded the streets, calling out their wares, while shops put up their signs one after another and waited for customers.

Breathing in air mixed with the fragrance of bread, the aroma of grease, and the sharp sting of spices, Angel finally felt that she had returned to the world of the living. The inexplicable anxiety she had felt since crossing over was temporarily suppressed, while her long-empty stomach began to cramp, reminding her what she needed to do most right now.