Small Brush

On the outskirts of Tingen City.

The morning sun was beautiful, illuminating the house with its dark red chimney. The lawn in front of the house looked emerald green, lovely and vibrant under the sunlight. The window of the second-floor bedroom was open, letting the sun spill in and casting a golden glow upon the desk by the window. A notebook spread open on the desk was thus illuminated, the text upon it clearly visible.

The notebook read as follows:

"Aurora Society members Sirius Aripice and Heinerse Fanster, residing in Tingen City, followed the orders of the high-ranking Ms. M to successfully locate a semi-insane youth named Luther Rondal, who seemed to possess the aura of the True Creator. Following orders, the two lured, deceived, and temporarily controlled him and his sister, awaiting further instructions from Ms. M."

"However, Ms. M underestimated the danger posed by Luther. As Sirius spent his days with Luther, the aura on the latter quickly affected Sirius, who was a Black Knight. His cognition became increasingly distorted until he went completely insane. He decided to kill Luther and use him as a blood sacrifice to pray for the descent of the True Creator. Truly insane, yet it all follows logic."

"Sirius successfully killed Luther, but his ritual will fail. He will lose control completely until he is killed by the arriving Night Watcher squad, and Dunn Smith, who leads the team, will be subtly contaminated by the out-of-control Sirius."

(The lines below were crossed out, and further down were a few lines written in haste.)

"Incredible! Illogical! Luther Rondal was not killed by Sirius. On the contrary, he killed his opponent, consumed the precipitated Beyonder characteristic, and became a Sequence 9 Black Knight."

"But the situation has not yet reached the point of no return! The letter Sirius wrote containing Luther's secrets was accidentally burned, and Dunn does not know of Luther's danger. There is an informant for the Aurora Society inside the police station; he happened to learn of Sirius's death and urgently notified Heinerse that very night."

"Driven to a dead end, Heinerse made a desperate gamble and decided to hold a frantic blood sacrifice ritual. This was forbidden knowledge bestowed upon them by Ms. M as a reward, but because the success rate was extremely low, Heinerse had never used it. But tonight, his ritual will be very lucky and succeed."

"Having succeeded in the ritual, Heinerse followed the information provided by the mole in the police station and arrived at Blackthorn Security Company. He happened to avoid the Night Watcher squad rushing to his home because both sides chose different routes; it is very reasonable that they did not meet."

"Heinerse invaded when the Night Watchers' defenses were at their weakest. He will devour Luther and create massive chaos..."

(Again, a large section of text was crossed out. Beneath the scribbles, a classical-style quill was floating above the notebook. Despite not being dipped in ink, it was writing fluently.)

"Damn that Luther Rondal! He survived again, defying all reason! The whispers of the Evil God actually had no effect on him; there is a deeper secret within him."

"He is just like that annoying Klein Moretti, constantly disrupting the plans of Ins Zangwill..."

At this moment, a slightly pale palm grasped the quill and, with great solemnity, started a new line:

"But it does not matter. There are still many opportunities left for Ins Zangwill."

The next morning, at Blackthorn Security Company, in the lounge.

The sound of rustling things woke Luther up. He sat up and saw his sister, Cecilia, with her back to him, organizing a tattered suitcase. Outside in the main hall, there was constant noise, the sound of human voices, and the clatter of furniture being moved.

Oh right, so many things happened last night.

As his consciousness slowly cleared, Luther recalled the events of yesterday. Accidental death, transmigration, a sister, cultists, an Evil God, the Night Watchers, a crazy ritual... After Heinerse died, his remains slowly precipitated a small black ball. When Luther saw it, he immediately recognized it as the very thing Sirius had forced him to eat—the so-called Black Knight Sequence potion. After that, Dunn arranged for him to return to the lounge to sleep while he continued to investigate the case.

Come to think of it, I killed two people last night.

Luther looked down at his palms. They were fair and slender, a stark contrast to how they looked covered in blood the night before.

Yesterday, Heinerse's roar had damaged his nose and ears, but upon waking up, there was no discomfort in either place, nor was there any more bleeding. This made him feel a bit suspicious about his own constitution.

To his surprise, he felt no guilt or discomfort. Was it because the Black Knight potion had distorted his cognition, turning him cold?

No, Luther recalled that his own personality was somewhat nasty, petty, and vengeful. Besides, there was nothing to lament; the other party was coming to kill him, so being killed by him was just desserts. Rather than caring about the lives of those crazy cultists, it was more important to focus on his "cheap" sister.

He cast his gaze toward his sister once again.

Cecilia hadn't noticed that Luther was awake and was still organizing the suitcase. Inside were a few clean but simple clothes, socks, some scraps of cloth and sewing needles, a few ceramic bowls, a wooden spoon, a small amount of penny coins, a few pills wrapped in paper, and some miscellaneous items... These were all the belongings the two siblings currently possessed.

This suitcase had been left at Sirius's house, and because of the need to protect the crime scene, they weren't allowed to take it at the time. Cecilia had thrown a huge tantrum over it, and it wasn't until Heinerse was also brought to justice and the incident had come to an end that Luther took the initiative to mention it to Dunn and retrieve it from the police.

The police officer who came to deliver the suitcase overnight was very dissatisfied because there was nothing of value inside. He couldn't understand why Cecilia insisted on getting back a broken suitcase immediately and felt very annoyed about running errands in the middle of the night, so he threw the suitcase down and left.

The police officer couldn't understand, but Luther could understand his sister's thoughts to some extent.

—It was nothing more than the obsession of the poor; after all, this was all the property their family had. For the destitute, perhaps missing a piece of clothing or skipping a few meals could become a cause of death. To survive, one had to desperately clutch onto everything one possessed.

"It's still here, thank goodness!"

Luther heard Cecilia's joyful voice. He looked up and saw her finding a small brush from the seam of the suitcase.

Ah, I seem to have seen this thing before.

Related memories automatically surfaced in his mind, and Luther remembered. It was a tool his sister used for work.

Ever since their parents died, the siblings had lost their livelihood. The meager pension couldn't fully support them both, and the young Cecilia had to take on the heavy responsibility of earning money.

But in this era, there weren't many ways for a frail girl to earn money, especially since the often-insane Luther needed someone to look after him at all times. In the end, Cecilia chose to do contract work for a match factory, pasting matchboxes at home every day. A full basket of matchboxes could earn a little over two pennies, and she could paste about two or three baskets a day. Combined with the pension, it allowed the two siblings to barely scrape by for a few years.

Therefore, the former Luther would often see this scene whenever he was lucid: his sister sitting sideways by his bed, her cute little face tense, skillfully pasting matchboxes with that small brush. When she discovered that Luther had woken up, she would put down what she was doing, flash him a happy smile, and busy herself attending to him.

"Luther, you're awake!"

Just as Luther was enveloped by memories of the past, Cecilia finally noticed he was awake and turned back to smile at him.

Seeing that brilliant smile, a feeling of warmth and guilt suddenly welled up in Luther's heart. He suddenly understood why the past Luther had been able to grit his teeth and persist for so many years in the Evil God's insane illusions—perhaps it was just to wake up and return to reality, to see that cute smile waiting for his return.