As his consciousness entered in full, Azure Dragon's crumbling spirit body finally stopped disintegrating. Countless maddening spiritual murmurs echoed through the Round Table Hall.
Whew... I finally stabilized the spirit body. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Everything had happened so suddenly, and with 0-013 interfering, he had nearly made a disastrous mistake.
For Joey, the Round Table Hall was his only dependable refuge. He could not afford anything going wrong here.
His consciousness took control of Azure Dragon. His eyes flickered, and gray mist churned and surged, shutting out the murmurs once more.
He examined his spirit body and, after confirming that nothing was wrong, returned to his physical body.
Focus returned to Joey's dull, lifeless eyes, and his vacant, expressionless face stirred back to life.
At some point, a black cloak had appeared on him. He followed behind the crowd, blending in perfectly.
Tap, tap, tap!
The group of six or seven moved in perfect unison, like programmed mechanical puppets.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out without warning.
The glass ceiling overhead exploded, showering fragments down like rain.
Joey rolled across the floor, narrowly avoiding them. If one of those things sliced his face, it would leave a scar.
Guns were standard equipment for Sheriffs. Senegal's firearm controls extended all the way down to bullet manufacturing, with every round individually numbered.
These were all tools of upper-class rule. What did a country have the most of? Commoners. Only by controlling ordinary people could those in power maintain a firmer grip on authority.
"Is the captain here?" That was the only possibility he could think of.
As for the Deathless Disciples, he could not rule out their having channels to obtain guns, but that seemed unlikely.
Bang, bang, bang!
Several more shots rang out in succession. This time, he pinpointed their direction. He quietly broke away from the group and slipped into the darkness.
The other disciples were like puppets without minds of their own, capable only of following the story laid out in the "script."
Their expressions never changed as glass fragments struck them. Even when the shards tore open their skin and blood spurted out, they remained indifferent, marching mechanically onward.
Following the sound, Joey gradually realized something was wrong. He stopped abruptly and drew his revolver.
After hesitating for a few seconds, he disengaged the safety and pulled the trigger. All he heard was a series of clicks. The gun was fully loaded, but it would not fire.
"Those weren't gunshots?"
Their guns came from the same department. Surely his could not be a fake. That Decree was still in effect: no shooting here.
"Could it be a supernatural ability?"
Suddenly, a figure sprang from the darkness and brushed past Joey.
"Wayne..." He froze, his expression blank.
Perhaps because someone had suddenly called his name, Wayne turned and glanced aside. When he recognized Joey's face beneath the black cloak, he, too, looked briefly stunned.
Before he could do anything else, something whistled through the air behind him, sounding just like a bullet leaving a barrel. A blue electrical arc streaked through the pitch-black castle.
Wayne was now a Sequence 6 Living Dead, after all. He twisted his body at an absurd angle, bending his neck ninety degrees. The incoming blue arc skimmed past the side of his head, grazing his hair.
The smell of singed hair even lingered in the air.
"That's the sound! It sounds just like gunfire."
Bang, bang, bang!
Seven or eight electrical arcs streaked past in succession. Wayne rolled from side to side across the floor, narrowly avoiding every one.
Watching this, Joey's eyes flickered. His hand instinctively reached behind his waist and closed around Quenching, the weapon he had just acquired from the storeroom.
As Wayne evaded another electrical attack, Joey hurled the dagger without hesitation. A silver flash shot toward the blind spot in Wayne's dodge.
Caught between the two attacks, he could only choose one. Either way, he would be hit.
Joey considered it a little interest collected on an old debt. He did not expect such a petty trick to inflict a fatal wound on Wayne, but he could at least make his enemy miserable.
Slash!
Of two evils, Wayne chose the lesser, just as Joey had expected. He took the thrown blade head-on. Joey had put everything he had into the sneak attack. His enemy was right in front of him; if his strength had allowed it, he would already have charged in and fought to the death.
But he had still underestimated the physical toughness of a Sequence 6. His all-out throw only grazed a layer of skin.
Wayne gave a cold, quiet sneer.
"You're still alive? It seems you must be hiding a few unusual secrets."
Even under these circumstances, Wayne had the leisure to mock him. Joey could not help suspecting that, if he faced Wayne alone, he would be finished in a single exchange.
Nothing had changed since their first meeting. What had all his desperate shooting practice even been for?
Before Wayne, he was still that same helpless Clown. Old Tony's words seemed to echo in his ears.
Don't let hatred blind you. Don't seek revenge.
Dad, is this how cruel the world of Transcendents is? Does hard work count for nothing in the face of talent?
He had given everything he had, yet he was still only a Sequence 9. His enemy had already reached Mid-Sequence. Effort alone could not bridge that gap.
"Night cannot obscure your light."
"Cold cannot drive away your warmth."
"Radiance..."
Vade Wisker's deep voice resounded. With his prayer, countless blue electrical arcs lit up the darkness, crackling as they swept toward Wayne.
"Captain Wade!" Joey was overjoyed. He had finally found Vade Wisker.
"Lightning-is this a Punisher's ability? It really is powerful." He could not help feeling envious.
The Sun God was said to command many authorities, with lightning among the strongest.
At the same time, another icy voice rang out.
"Supernatural abilities are forbidden here."
As the Decree took effect, Vade Wisker froze with a blank expression, his powerful attack still gathering. A moment later, the electrical arcs around him vanished.
Wayne seized the opportunity and disappeared into the darkness in a few swift movements.
Again? 0-013, what the hell is wrong with you? Joey grumbled inwardly.
The same thing had happened last time. He had been in the middle of a perfectly good fight, only to suddenly find himself on the same side as his enemy. And now, just when things were getting good, it pulled this? Vade Wisker approached slowly, and they stared at each other in mutual bewilderment. Both were battered and looked utterly miserable.
Vade Wisker approached slowly. Their eyes met, and they stared at each other. Both were wounded and looked thoroughly bedraggled.
"Joey, how did you get all those injuries?"
He waved a hand with a bitter smile. "Don't ask. I ran into a bunch of disciples, then 0-013 messed with me and issued some Decree forbidding gunfire."
Wade instinctively raised his hand, trying to use his ability. An electrical arc appeared for an instant before vanishing.
Joey saw the movement, too. His expression grew grave. "Captain, are all Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts this terrifying?"
Sequence 6 was firmly within Mid-Sequence, yet before 0-013, they were all like toys, helplessly subject to its whims.
Joey suspected that even a High Sequence could not control an out-of-control 0-013. Could an earl really command something like this?
Vade Wisker sighed grimly, then began tending to his wounds. They were all superficial injuries.
Joey took out his gun and pulled the trigger several more times, then opened the cylinder. Every bullet was still there.
How were they supposed to fight like this? A single Decree stripped them of their means to fight. What a joke.
"Why don't we leave?" Joey suggested.
He had only meant to lighten the mood, but as soon as he spoke, Wade's face turned cold. With a solemn expression, he said:
"Absolutely not. We cannot let 0-013 fall into the Necromancer Sect's hands."
"Fine, we won't leave. Why are you getting so worked up? Your wounds are spurting blood."
As he spoke, he took out the medicine the disciples had given him earlier and prepared to apply it to Wade's wounds.
"Where did you get that?"
"This? The disciples gave it to me. I don't know what sort of script that Book of Ebola has assigned me, but apparently I'm one of them now."
"How do you know that name?" Wade grabbed Joey's shoulders in agitation.
"What's wrong? Why such a big reaction?" He looked at Wade in confusion, then said, "That's what those disciples said. They came for this thing. Apparently, they've already found it, but they can't get into wherever it is. They need to find Earl Aaron."
Vade Wisker wore an expression Joey had never seen before, as though something terrible was about to happen. His eyes were filled with terror and unease.
The Necromancer Sect trying to steal a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact was not frightening in itself. Earl Aaron's possession of the artifact was no secret. But if the disciples knew 0-013's true name and still intended to steal it, that was terrifying. It proved they knew the artifact's true capabilities.
The Book of Ebola was 0-013's true name, symbolizing the spread of viruses and death. Only the Aaron Family knew this secret.
To outsiders, 0-013 was merely an overrated, largely useless Sealed Artifact-a large-scale murder-mystery game. Few knew the name Ebola.
"Captain, can you find Earl Aaron?"
His reasoning was simple. Whatever this Sealed Artifact might be, if Wayne wanted something done, Joey would sabotage it.
Only after speaking did he notice Vade Wisker watching him warily.
He opened his mouth, trying to explain himself. "I'm not interested in the Sealed Artifact."
Anyone with eyes could see that Vade Wisker's relationship with Earl Aaron was unusual.
Joey's curiosity about their relationship had long since been burning fiercely. The two did not seem to be acting out a script; they seemed like genuine lovers.
One was a lofty earl, the other merely a squad captain in the Survey Corps. The gulf between their stations was immense. It was hard to imagine what kind of love story the two might share.
Transcendents stood above ordinary people, but to rulers, they were merely somewhat more useful tools.
"I don't know how deeply 0-013 has affected you."
Affected me? That thing never affected me in the first place! Naturally, Joey did not dare say that to Vade's face. Instead, he played dumb. "I'm not sure either."
Joey understood that he would have to reveal something to earn Vade Wisker's trust.
He then said:
"I may have been influenced by the Evil God. After all, I became a Transcendent during His sacrificial ritual. Actually, from the very beginning, 0-013's assimilation during my advancement barely affected me. Once I adapted, it couldn't affect me at all."
Vade Wisker frowned deeply and studied Joey carefully. Finding his eyes clear and nothing unusual about him, he could only accept the explanation for the time being.
After all, advancing into a Sequence that did not belong to that deity during an Evil God's sacrificial ritual was unheard of, let alone something anyone would dare attempt.
"What should we do next?" Joey asked.
By a faint glimmer of light, he could see the struggle written across Wade's face, as though he were making some difficult decision.
In the silent surroundings, there was only the sound of their increasingly heavy breathing. Their nerves were stretched to the limit.
"Joey, if you can stay clearheaded, then..." As he spoke, he looked toward the main exit. "Run."
"Captain, let's leave together."
Without their abilities, both sides could only fight by the most primitive means. Clearly, the enemy held the advantage.
No one knew how many enemies had infiltrated the castle. And with 0-013 directing events, outsiders had no way of noticing what was happening here.
"No. I can't let them find Aaron. That would bring about an unprecedented catastrophe."
Joey felt that Wade was being a stubborn little old man who refused to listen to reason.
Without supernatural abilities, all they had were their fists and feet. They might beat one or two people, but could they beat seven or eight? The enemy could wear them down to death. Staying was practically suicide, especially with that sneaky bastard issuing Decrees every so often.
"I'm not acting on impulse. This really is important. Besides, you can bring reinforcements once you get out. Someone has to hold them off until then."
As Wade spoke, he took a personal token from his coat, something unique to him that could prove his identity.
The two parted ways. Joey soon slipped out of the castle and returned to the stables, holding a piece of emerald-green jade. It appeared to be only half of a whole; the marks where it had been divided were obvious.
Leading out a white horse, Joey wasted no time. He swung into the saddle and slapped its rump. The clatter of hooves receded into the distance, but just as he was about to leave the castle grounds, that familiar mechanical voice sounded again.
"Leaving is forbidden here."
The exit was right before him. Yet even after the horse had run for several minutes, it remained in the same place.
Joey dismounted and stared gloomily at the exit within arm's reach.
"Fine, fine, fine. So that's how you want to play it! If you won't let me leave, I won't."
He turned and went back into the manor.
Joey had every reason to suspect that 0-013 had been watching his every move from the start.
There was no breaking out of this situation. He was like an NPC: whenever he did something outside the rules, 0-013, the programmer, immediately patched it.
Perhaps the key to breaking the deadlock lay with Earl Aaron. Everyone was looking for him.
While Joey was trapped in the castle, the same thing was happening throughout Senegal.
Large numbers of Necromancer Sect disciples emerged. Bloodthirsty by nature, they conducted one sacrificial ritual after another, taking the lives of countless commoners and even nobles.
In a dark, sinister passage, the dim yellow light of a gas lamp illuminated only a few meters ahead. It barely revealed an underground cavern surrounded by rock and phosphate deposits.
A figure whose face was hidden beneath a black robe carried the gas lamp, walking steadily deeper into the cavern. The faint aura seeping from him reeked of decay and depravity.
His black robe was embroidered with many intricate, exquisite runes. Within the sect, only a High Priest was entitled to wear it.