23
After passing through the door to the Spirit World, we arrived at a cemetery somewhere. Still shaken, the two women kept me carefully at their side as we reported the murder to the police, then passed along certain messages through a Golden Retriever. (They sent me away during this process, but that did not prevent me from seeing what happened.) Only then did the two young ladies finally breathe a sigh of relief.
"Highland Tea, Marquis Tea." I invited them to sit in the drawing room, then went into the kitchen and took the silver tea canisters off the shelf. "I also have coffee beans from Balam. What would you ladies like?"
"Coffee. Just a cup of coffee for me, thank you." Miss Fors tucked the hair beside her face behind her ear. The hat she had removed hung on the coat rack by the wall. She exchanged a glance with the young lady named Xio, then answered for her. "She would like a glass of milk, sir."
I noticed the petite girl stealing several glances at the silver tea canister in my hand, seemingly reluctant to look away.
But she did not stop her companion from speaking for her. I understood. This was human "restraint"-choosing relatively ordinary food and gifts on a first visit was a common social courtesy. So, under her faintly regretful gaze, I put the tea canister back and took out some top-grade Balam coffee beans to grind. A believer had offered them to me, and they were supposedly worth their weight in gold.
It was half past three, a little early. But once the pastries finished baking, it would be just the right time to enjoy afternoon tea at leisure.
After several minutes of stirring, the hot coffee gave off a rich aroma, just as an enticing sweetness drifted from the cakes in the oven. The weather was cold, so I placed the still-steaming desserts on a three-tiered porcelain cake stand, arranging the cream, jam, milk, and sugar cubes separately. It was rare for ordinary people in the true sense to join me for afternoon tea, so I prepared larger quantities and pastries better suited to human tastes. It was now exactly four o'clock, the perfect time. Afternoon tea had to be punctual to the second, every single day.
The two ladies still seemed somewhat ill at ease, their eyes wandering over the complete set of furniture I had recreated in the Baroque style from memory. I understood. I also thought it was too ornate and ought to have fewer gold and silver reliefs and gemstone and jade inlays. But this furniture had been with me for two hundred years, and it was handcrafted for the Intis imperial family, sponsored by Roselle. I was rather reluctant to throw it away.
"Relax. We can talk while we eat."
I gave them a reassuring smile and spoke gently. "Ladies, have you decided where to begin your explanation?"
"Yes. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Vaughn." Miss Fors spoke first. Perhaps it was my imagination, but the hand holding my gold cloisonné teacup seemed to tremble, as though she feared dropping it. "The man we encountered today was a pirate admiral, Qilingus, the 'Vice Admiral Hurricane.' He can fly. Um, do you know about Beyonder abilities? That is, have you ever experienced anything in your life that defied nature?"
"I do." I nodded. That was the Storm Pathway's Sequence 6, Wind-blessed. Of course I knew. Still, if even a Sequence 6 could make it into the ranks of pirate admirals, the seas seemed fairly safe these days.
"How much do you know about the pirates' 'Four Kings and Seven Admirals'?"
"A little. I know the leader of the Dawn is Queen Mystic, whose name is Bernadette Gustav," I replied.
Miss Fors and Miss Xio looked at each other. Confusion was plain on Fors's face. She gathered her thoughts and continued, "Qilingus is a heinous pirate who has slaughtered countless people. No ship he encounters survives, and even intact bodies are difficult to find..."
I nodded. That glove, a Mystical Item of the Shepherd Pathway, made me suspect he had ties to the Aurora Order. His scent was undeniably enticing, and I regretted more and more that I had not eaten him on the spot.
"...When we escaped from him, the door I opened was created using a Beyonder ability. Of course, it wasn't my own power."
Miss Fors was very modest. As she spoke, she even stood up to demonstrate turning intangible and passing through a wall. I offered her sincere praise; after all, the Devil Pathway really did not have little tricks like that. Once she sat down, she picked up a smoked salmon sandwich, put it in her mouth, and washed it down with coffee. I did not think that combination would taste very good. These refreshments were meant to accompany fragrant black tea, after all. Sure enough, her expression twisted for a moment.
24
"The world of Beyonders is terrifying. The slightest mistake can make you lose control, and unaffiliated Beyonders can easily be taken away by the Churches..."
"...Are you curious about Beyonder powers? I'm very sorry, but you're past the age when you can safely become a Beyonder... No, it would be best not to use it as material for a book. That could easily bring the Church knocking to check your gas meter. By the way, which deity do you believe in?"
"My Pathway is 'Apprentice,' and I'm currently Sequence 9. I wonder where Qilingus is now. Could he still be hunting us? Sigh, I really am sorry about today. Without your help, we might have already... Xio, should we sleep at a church for a few days, until he's caught?"
Time slowly passed, and we ate our way up to the top tier of the cake stand. Miss Fors lavishly praised my dessert-making skills and could hardly bear to part with the palm-sized dark chocolate mousse cake, taking only a tiny amount with each spoonful. Even the serious Miss Xio gradually unknitted her brows over afternoon tea and became absorbed in enjoying the food. Once they finished their coffee, I offered to brew them my favorite Highland black tea. "Because Miss Xio kept looking at it as though she missed it," I explained, leaving them little choice but to accept.
"...You really are perceptive, Mr. Vaughn." Miss Xio smiled, taking small sips of the piping-hot black tea. The delicious pastries and relaxed atmosphere had made her unconsciously let down her guard and become less wary of me. After a long hesitation, she finally answered, "My family were nobles who fell on hard times. When I was little, my father often made afternoon tea for me with Highland black tea."
"Fallen nobles?" My curiosity stirred, and I displayed a writer's enthusiasm for inspiration and material. "May I ask your surname? If you don't find it offensive."
"My name is Xio Derecha." The blonde young lady pressed her lips together and spoke in a self-mocking tone. "My real surname is 'Dere.' It was many years ago. No one probably remembers-"
"Dere? A noble family that fell within the past twenty years... Are you a member of the Dere Family, a relative of Earl Mason Dere?" I dug a page out of my memory and reviewed the two insignificant sentences written on it, asking in my usual tone, "That earl bought an opera from me in his younger days. I have only a slight impression of him. He seemed an upright man who kept his word."
Miss Xio's eyes widened at once.
Her emotions shifted between "excitement" and "fear," with "suspicion" appearing as well... Was this young lady suspicious of me? Did she suspect I was involved in her father's death? I remembered that Loen's current king wanted to advance to Black Emperor. The earl had known the inside story but refused to accept reality, so naturally, he had died. I found that difficult to understand. Humans were clearly always caught in a maelstrom of struggle and mutual slaughter, doing whatever it took to push others aside and secure their own survival. What was wrong with giving one's country another true god-greater military strength, higher standing, bigger wars, and more wealth? Why resist?
How dull, I thought. A flourishing world was dull. Everything would one day decline and perish. Kindness and every virtue had meaning only because they would someday be destroyed, just as life existed for death, and buildings and great achievements were at their most spectacular only when they came crashing down at the height of their grandeur.
I waited for her to ask me something, so I could take the opportunity to reveal a little information. But Miss Xio said nothing. She suppressed her urge to learn the truth and sat back down, gritting her teeth. She did not trust me. That was a great pity, because I had intended to make this a "devil's bargain": I would give her the truth she wanted, and she would trade me her identity and soul, allowing me to cause a little trouble for the emperor preparing to become a god.
Naturally, I was not particularly eager to see Earth gain another deity.
The atmosphere over afternoon tea grew a little heavy. Miss Fors probably sensed the awkwardness too, and chose the most suitable moment to take her leave. I agreed with a smile, packed up a portion of the freshly baked chiffon cake for her, and escorted them out of my villa.
25
I gathered up the scraps and, using the most out-of-control method possible, successfully baked a stargazy pie. As usual, I offered it to my ally.
...Huh? Why wouldn't He open the gates of His divine kingdom?
26
It was already dark. I lay comfortably on the sofa, listening to my believers' prayers, but kept feeling as though I had forgotten something. After carefully reviewing everything that had happened today, I realized I had forgotten to go to Tingen.
The time sense of a mythical creature was to blame. I immediately got up, put on my coat, picked up my cane, donned my top hat, and opened a door at the farthest possible distance in the direction of that city. I had barely stepped out when a steam train roared past right in front of my forehead. I held down my hat, which nearly blew away. Opening a second door, I stood in the doorway and glanced down. Below was a filthy river used to discharge wastewater. I thought it over, then thought some more, and entered the Spirit World through my Divine Kingdom Prototype.
I did not particularly like traveling through the Spirit World. That stick-figure sun always paid me special attention, and this time was no exception. I only ate one of your angels, and you even snatched the Beyonder characteristic back. Must you keep dwelling on it like this? Among the Blood Sanctify Sect and the three devil families, I ate the upper ranks of two until only a handful of collateral branches remained, and they haven't come looking for revenge, have they?
Five minutes later, I left the Spirit World. My scorched coat hem and hair, along with my now-nonexistent hat, made me look somewhat bedraggled, but that was all the damage a single gaze could do to me.
The sun had set completely, and deep night shrouded the sky over the small city. All the gas streetlamps had long since been lit, casting bright light over the reasonably broad roads. The shops on either side had their lights on as well. Children lingered outside the glass windows of toy shops and gift shops, while gentlemen and ladies strolled arm in arm through the streets. It was late autumn, and the recent cold had already prompted people to don thick coats.
I admired it all idly, looking forward to seeing the city destroyed by my ally's descent. It would probably be as worth preserving as the crystal-ball music box in that shop window. Though insignificant in itself, the reason for its destruction would be meaningful. In that case, should I simply take the whole thing away and turn it into a "World in a Bottle"? It had been a long time since I last added to my collection.
My peaceful nighttime stroll was soon interrupted when a very beautiful lady hurried out of a corner.
Her long brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders. Though her clothes were somewhat disheveled, there was not a trace of panic in her bright, round brown eyes. Instead, they were filled with the joy of smug satisfaction, and her steps were quick and buoyant.
She was not wearing high heels, and her flat shoes made her footsteps light and silent. Though she seemed to be keeping a low profile, the spider silk on her and the lingering aura of pleasure were as conspicuous as a beacon in the night. Probably because she had not expected anyone to be standing here, the lady paused, then her eyes flashed with the delight of spotting prey. The corners of her lips slowly rose into an enchanting, seductive smile that belonged to a Demoness alone.
The Demoness approached. She seemed to have killed several people in a short span of time, and the aura of corruption and death had yet to fade from her. It made her smell as sweet and enticing as a sponge cake drizzled with honey, and my Adam's apple bobbed. She clearly misunderstood my reaction. With a soft laugh, she moved closer and used seductive words to ask me to protect her and escort her safely home.
I did not like eating Demonesses. Though delicious, they were always excessively sweet and cloying. Still, there was no reason to refuse a blood sacrifice that delivered itself to my door.
"I hope we have a wonderful evening, beautiful lady."
The Demoness smiled, and I too smiled from the bottom of my heart.
27
Shortly before nine, Klein knocked on the door of the captain's office, preparing to report to Dunn about Hood Eugen, the Psychology Alchemists member in the asylum, going mad. After receiving permission, he pushed the door open and found the captain eating breakfast while reading a newspaper. Dunn nodded to Klein and said, his gray eyes deep:
"You're just in time. There's another case that needs your help."
"Another? Are they all cases involving Beyonders?" Klein asked instinctively.
"Do you remember the previous case? City councilor Mr. Maynard was found dead at home early on September first. The Tingen City police were under considerable pressure and wanted us to use Spirit Channeling to help them identify the killer as soon as possible. Well, Old Neil took that day off to watch a play with Mrs. Sally, so we had to assign you, since you can channel spirits."
After explaining, Dunn added, "This case is related. The late Mr. Maynard's mistress, Madam Sharon, was found dead at home this morning. Her face was contorted, her limbs torn apart, and all her internal organs had been hollowed out. The scene was horrific."
The account made Klein's hair stand on end, and he could not help tightening his grip on his cane.
"Madam Sharon's death may involve Beyonders, but it's also possible that the killer's methods were simply exceptionally brutal," Dunn cautioned. "Be careful."
TBC
*I found a bug and made a correction.
It is now September 4, five days before the True Creator's divine descent.
Before you continue