Chapter 38

118

Zaratul moved his fingers, and the man before him raised his hand quite naturally.

He manipulated the Spirit Body Threads according to his will again, making sure every joint was connected and that he could indeed control the other man. Looking at the colleague with whom he had spent so long scheming against each other, now his newest marionette, Zaratul let out a barely perceptible sigh from beneath his grizzled beard.

He had long known that the Abyss Angel harbored malicious intentions, and that the important figure in that organization had long wanted to eliminate the Devil. Guided by his spiritual intuition, he had come here today, to an unobtrusive corner of the Mirror Gallery. All the nobles and ministers were now gathered in a small drawing room, anxiously awaiting the results of the meeting and arguing fiercely. There was nothing strange about the Palace Earl stepping away for a little while.

Zaratul found him in the corner. Holding a wineglass, Edward Vaughan stood quietly sideways in the shadows, a faint smile on his lips that seemed both mocking and gentle. Zaratul's hair stood on end. A hundred images flashed through his mind of being caught on the spot and beaten until Spirit Worms fell out of him. He nearly swapped places with his guard marionette outside the palace, but in the next second, he noticed the problem.

There was no trace of mystical power in the Abyss Angel's body. His astral body was nowhere to be found. He had no pulse, no heartbeat.

He seemed to have died here without a sound.

Yet his expression was perfectly normal, and there were no signs of a struggle nearby. Clearly, he had "come here naturally"!

There was only one person capable of making an Angel die inexplicably without a sound. Zaratul drew in a gentle breath and slowly exhaled. Adam was not here, so there could be only one purpose behind killing someone and leaving the corpse behind: intimidation and a hint. It was like following a blow with a sweet reward, telling you that you were powerless to resist the tide of fate while offering a little incentive, so that when you faced him, you would pause and carefully consider whether submission or resistance would benefit you more.

"Let's go."

Zaratul took control of the Spirit Body Threads, using his Angel-level powers of observation as a Faceless to reproduce the man's everyday speech and behavior. He led the marionette out of the corner. Just as his foot crossed the boundary between light and shadow, his spiritual intuition suddenly screamed a warning! Veins bulged at his temples. Before he even understood what was about to happen, he obeyed that intuition and crouched!

Boom! Crack!

A fierce gust from a punch grazed his hood and struck the wall beside him, right at head height. Feeling every Spirit Body Thread in his grasp begin to revolt, Zaratul plunged into the Historical Void without hesitation. Then came a sequence practiced beyond perfection: Flaming Jump, jump, marionette swap, swap, swap, swap, Historical Projections stacked, stacked, stacked, stacked. In an instant, his true body had fled to the Intis border, while the version of him in the corner of the Mirror Gallery became a Sequence 5 marionette.

Deep, web-like cracks rapidly spread through the half-meter-thick wall before the entire thing collapsed. At the same time, the power of deceit flashed past, and no one realized that the White Maple Palace had suddenly lost a load-bearing wall.

Adam actually failed! Zaratul was bewildered and uncertain, but also faintly relieved. Through his marionette's eyes, he saw his cunning colleague come back to life. The motion of withdrawing his fist and straightening up looked like stop-motion animation, stuttering for two seconds before becoming fluid again. The transition from marionette back to a normal person was visible. Edward Vaughan's face was, unusually, completely expressionless, though its finer nuances revealed a subtle mockery. He paid no attention whatsoever to the trembling Sequence 5 Spirit Worm before him. After readjusting his appearance and demeanor, he headed toward the Conference Hall.

He didn't come after me... does he have no strength to spare, or does he simply consider me beneath him?

His double watched him leave, then stood up and suddenly discovered something extra in the inner pocket of his cloak.

It was a Sequence 1 Writer characteristic.

Zaratul's pupils trembled, and the hand holding the characteristic shook slightly.

119

A dog caught Edward's attention. As it passed by his feet, it suddenly began moving both legs on the same side together.

To be fair, he had no interest in a low-level Devil passing right under his nose. Besides, this dog's spirituality and emotions were unstable. It appeared to still be in the process of advancing, and was Sequence 5 at most. If a Sequence 5 animal went out, its owner would inevitably follow. Presumably, then, it was the true culprit behind the current serial murders.

Training animals to become Devils and helping them advance was a tradition of the Beria Family. They submitted to the strong; although brutal, they knew when to bow to circumstances. Under Edward's deliberate indulgence, the Beria Family had already become the strongest overall of the Three Great Devil Families. They held considerable influence within the Blood Sanctify Sect and had played an important role in gathering all the organized Devils together, making it easier to wipe them out in one fell swoop.

According to his original plan, the Devil Card would be discreetly delivered to the Beria Family, helping them improve their overall strength further and making his harvest easier. But because Adam had secretly manipulated the card's course, it had changed hands several times after leaving Edward's possession before disappearing completely.

Edward looked at the black dog.

The black dog tucked its tail between its legs and shrank behind a tree trunk.

"Who told you what I look like?" he asked softly. "Or has your patriarch finally become an Angel? Does he want to find me?"

The black dog hid almost its entire body behind the not particularly thick trunk, its ears drooping as low rumbling sounds came from its throat.

Edward understood. "I see. Your master is the one courting death. He's Sequence 5, isn't he? A little low, but he still meets my minimum requirement for a servant."

Devils discarded their emotions and became cold-blooded and merciless from the low Sequences onward. Though master and servant, theirs was merely a hierarchy held together by strength, with no loyalty to speak of. The Devil Dog divulged everything it knew in the hope of saving its life. But once Edward learned that this was merely an individual Devil who had decided to court death, he lost interest in them.

"You..."

"Mr. Vaughn?"

A voice interrupted Edward. He swallowed the words he had yet to say and turned toward its source. A very familiar young writer with slightly wavy, long brown hair stood a few meters away. She looked somewhat haggard, but her spirits had not suffered much. Ah, right. There had been a sudden blood moon two nights ago, and it had lasted quite a while.

"Miss Fors," Edward greeted her. "It's been a few days. How is your script coming along?"

Fors immediately wore an expression that said she wished she had never greeted him, though she dared not show it outright. Looking at his smiling face, she gave an awkward laugh. "There's still some time before the deadline. Let's not talk about work, shall we? Mr. Vaughn, what are you doing?"

Edward noticed her gaze falling on the black dog not far from his feet, and his smile deepened. "I'm feeding a dog. It's quite interesting. By the way, Miss Fors, have you been following the serial murders lately? How much has Sivellaus Yard raised the reward for information on the suspect?"

Fors studied the dog. Standing well over half a meter tall and covered in long black fur, it hardly seemed to warrant the description "interesting." "Ferocious" would have suited it better. Besides, on closer inspection, dark red blood still stained its sharp teeth... Its jet-black eyes remained motionless, as though it, too, were studying her. Unlike the seemingly exceptionally clever Golden Retriever at Miss Audrey's home, this humanlike gaze sent a chill through Fors, and she quickly looked away.

"That case? Of course I've been following it," Fors said, suspecting nothing. "It's excellent material, but far too cruel. Sivellaus Yard seems to be having a terrible time. There are rumors that they plan to hire private detectives to join the search. The reward announced just yesterday was already as high as two thousand pounds."

Two thousand pounds? Edward glanced at the black dog.

That's not much. At best, it'll cover this year's furniture maintenance expenses...

"I do hope the murderer is brought to justice soon," Edward said with a sigh. "For such a tragedy to occur somewhere like Backlund is simply an affront to the kingdom's judicial system."

"Yes." Fors tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, deeply sharing the sentiment. The recent incidents had affected Beyonder gatherings and writers' meetings alike to varying degrees. As the investigations intensified, quite a few unaffiliated Beyonders had been caught. Even those who had done nothing wrong were taken into the underground chambers of the various churches. She had been living in fear over this for quite some time.

After a few brief pleasantries, Fors, who seemed preoccupied, said goodbye, and Edward let her go. No sooner had her figure vanished into the crowd than Edward looked down at the black dog, which still did not dare breathe loudly, and gave it an idle kick.

"Eleven people killed, a two-thousand-pound reward." Edward glanced at it. "You haven't even finished the ritual, and you've already made quite a stir. It's not as though your Beria Family doesn't keep humans captive. Why venture outside and take risks just to advance? Or did you and your master really come to Backlund with some ulterior motive?"

The black dog made no sound.

"I'm not interested in your purpose. Get lost. Kill more people, make a bigger stir. That way, your bounty can go up a little."

120

At dusk, Klein took the steam-powered subway to the Backlund Bridge District and knocked on the gathering house's door according to the numbers provided in the newspaper. As on his previous visits, he put on an iron mask that covered only the upper half of his face and donned a hooded black robe. A servant led him into a sitting room where a single candle burned quietly.

At a glance, Klein discovered that there were nearly half as many Beyonders attending this gathering as usual.

A few minutes later, the elderly Eye of Wisdom cleared his throat. "Let's begin. The others probably won't be coming." He then offered a brief explanation. "Because the culprit behind those serial murders still hasn't been found, most of the Beyonders from the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, Machinery Hivemind, and MI9 have been deployed. They're conducting large-scale investigations and searches."

"Under these circumstances, it's perfectly normal and understandable that our friends would be reluctant to go out or attend gatherings."

"Frankly, more people came today than I expected."

As expected, Beyonder circles aren't isolated. Current events affect them too... Klein looked around and saw that the plump Apothecary was present, which put him considerably more at ease. Soon, just as he had expected, the Apothecary began seeking the Marrow Crystal of the Elven Spring. Having prepared in advance, Klein made the deal without hesitation, obtaining a lead on the Apothecary potion formula along with several sedatives he had already forgotten about.

Overcome with bitter regret, the Apothecary sighed. "You really are a lucky fellow! Why didn't I choose that path of luck back then..."

The gathering continued. Whether the female Beyonder with an Artisan backing her had not attended or had failed to obtain any new supernatural weapons, she never spoke, leaving Klein disappointed-he now had 509 pounds in cash and could consider buying equipment.

After many transactions fell through, a man seated on a tall stool spoke in a low voice. "A friend of mine was unfortunate enough to be discovered during this large-scale investigation. The Mandated Punishers have locked him beneath a Storm Church. I'd like to recruit a few people to help rescue him."

The elderly Eye of Wisdom immediately replied, "Wild Dog, abandon that idea! The Mandated Punishers and Sealed Artifacts in a single Storm Church are enough to destroy everyone here. Your friend's fate is already sealed. Don't put yourself in the same hopeless situation."

Wild Dog looked around. Seeing that no one responded, he could not help pounding his thigh heavily and growling, "But what exactly did he do wrong?"

"He's an excellent physician. He's saved so many patients. He's never hurt anyone! Just because he drank a potion and became a Beyonder, he has to be imprisoned somewhere he'll never see the sun again, or even become a test subject for the Mandated Punishers?"

"Why?"

"Why..."

Wild Dog's anguished, despairing questions echoed through the room. Even the Apothecary, who usually could not keep his mouth shut, remained silent.

Sigh... As a former official Beyonder, Klein could only let out a long sigh inwardly. Without making the Acting Method public, unaffiliated Beyonders are all ticking time bombs. But if the Acting Method became widespread, things might become even more chaotic and bloody... after all, Beyonder Characteristics are indestructible and conserved...

In that oppressive atmosphere, the gathering drew to a close.

TBC

I've been hooked on games. LoL is so much fun, hehe.

Recently, I've seen readers discussing this story. It seems to have gained a little attention. While I was touched, I also noticed some strange opinions.

Let me state this solemnly as the author: I have never said anything like, "The more satisfying things are for him early on, the more miserably Klein and Adam will corner him later." I'm writing an Outer Deity, an inhuman Outer Deity who has transcended petty pleasures. Only a powerful enemy can demonstrate the strength of humanity and Earth. If a mature Outer Deity could be defeated easily, then the apocalypse and all those supposed sacrifices the gods keep talking about would be meaningless. I don't know where that statement came from, but I never said it. Most likely, some jokes got distorted as they spread.

I've seen people call this a dark story.

Well... it may indeed not quite align with the values common to Lord of the Mysteries fanfiction, but every reader has their own standards of judgment. What I pursue as an author is coherent logic and a tightly constructed plot. If you find this story dark, perhaps that's because the world of Lord of the Mysteries is itself dark.

This story has two endings: a bad ending and a happy ending.

The main story follows the happy ending, while the bad ending will be written separately as extras in its own volume. It won't be very long. If you can't imagine how a happy ending is possible, don't worry. Watch me work.

That's all. Happy reading, everyone. (V )