Late at night, Hairore climbed out of bed. Using her night vision, she changed into clothes better suited for movement, climbed down from her bedroom balcony, carefully avoided the household guards, slipped out through the garden, and began her daily life as a Beyonder.
Though she appeared to be a haughty lady who looked down on others, she possessed a considerable sense of justice. In a way, she seemed to have the heroic conviction that with great power came great responsibility.
After knocking down a petty thief who seemed to have been trying to sneak into 160 Buckland Street, she excitedly waved a hand. Then she swiftly reined in her emotions, maintained her proud bearing, and, after some thought, dragged the thief to Mister Kidd's door. She rang the doorbell as a prank, then turned and vanished into the shadows of the street.
But just as she proudly held her head high, a voice suddenly sounded in her mind—
"Look what I found. A Marauder overflowing with justice?"
"Who?!" Hairore's eyes widened. She looked around in terror, yet could not find the source of the voice at all. It was as if the voice had come from the depths of her own mind.
"Oh? As such a young Con Sorter, your first reaction upon hearing a voice in your head was actually vigilance? Oh, heavens, a rookie who has mastered the Acting Method but lacks even the most basic caution of this pathway? Let me guess—which acquaintance has been preparing you as an ingredient?"
The voice was full of mockery. Although it carried no malice, Hairore felt chilled to the bone.
"Who exactly are you?" Hairore lowered her voice, and her tone weakened slightly, but her emotions made it clear that she did not seem desperate.
"Little girl, don't you