Aftermath

At those words, which sounded like a declaration of his impending death, Cyril shuddered violently, his expression shifting several times within seconds.

He forced down his fear and said in a trembling voice:

"I can give you all my wealth.

"But you must promise to let me go."

"Do you think that's possible?" Lorry scoffed, then said coldly, "Tell me everything honestly, and I can give you a quick death."

Panic, fear, regret, anger-a succession of emotions crossed Cyril's face, but more than anything, he clung to life, unwilling to let it go.

Lorry had no doubt that, if he hadn't broken the man's limbs beforehand, he would now be facing the most desperate counterattack.

Unfortunately, there aren't that many ifs in this world... he thought coolly.

His features twisted, Cyril glared viciously at Lorry and the bloodstained table knife in his hand, then exhaled forcefully.

He stared for a long time before his expression slowly began to settle.

"You... Lorry, listen to me:

"There isn't any irreconcilable hatred between us, is there?

"I took you in back then. Otherwise, you would have starved to death on some street long ago... My rules were harsh, but they hardly affected you.

"You always performed well. I even treated you to drinks at the bar.

"That potion... I was only following the baron's orders. And you're still alive now. You've gained enormous benefits from it, haven't you?"

Lorry looked thoughtful at this and nodded slightly. "You're right, but you seem to have forgotten something."

The corners of his lips curled upward, and mockery flashed in his eyes.

"You seem to have forgotten why I'm wanted.

"Glowa and the others killed a retired old policeman in Koyar Village! I'm here to claim your lives on his behalf..."

Cyril said in bewilderment:

"That old policeman?

"He wasn't even related to you! You didn't know each other before!"

"That's why you can't understand why I came to Backlund." Lorry curled his lip. Uninterested in explaining further, he raised the table knife.

"Since you won't cooperate, I'll take that as you choosing another way to die.

"Yes, the more painful kind."

As the table knife drew closer, panic flashed across Cyril's face.

"Wait, I'll talk!

"I have an anonymous account at Bavart Bank. The password is in the study drawer. The account holds the earnings I've legally laundered over the years.

"Besides that, some of my off-the-books income is held by the bar's accountant. You can only withdraw it with the right passphrase. The passphrase is 'Walo Village.'"

"All right, I understand." Lorry's hand paused briefly, and he nodded. "I'll make your death less painful."

With that, he set down the table knife. Amid the man's terrified gaze and violent struggles, he took the anesthetic from his pocket again and rendered him unconscious.

"Although I'd very much like to kill you now, I can't.

"This is Cherwood Borough. A murder might bring in the Mandated Punishers to assist with the investigation. There must be Beyonders among them who can perform spirit channeling. I can't take that risk.

"Besides, although you were deliberately trying to hide it, the hatred in your eyes was too obvious. I'm not a Spectator, but even I could guess there was something wrong with the passphrase."

Lorry curled his lip disdainfully, cleaned up the surrounding traces, then took False Face from his pocket and laid it over Cyril's face.

He softly spoke a word in Hermes Script:

"False Face!"

The transparent, masklike substance slowly wriggled, soon fitting Cyril's face perfectly.

Lorry picked up False Face again, fetched a black suitcase from the ground-floor storeroom, and folded Cyril up before stuffing him inside.

Then he went to the study and easily retrieved the slip of paper bearing the password.

Once everything was done, Lorry went to the bodyguards' bedroom on the ground floor, put on False Face, and dripped a drop of the anesthetic's antidote into each man's mouth.

Some time later, the two bodyguards woke up.

Seeing "Cyril" standing there with a grim expression, they hurried out of bed.

"Boss!

"What happened?"

"Cyril" spoke hoarsely, his gaze sinister.

"I suddenly had a bad feeling. I keep thinking something might happen at the bar. You two go and keep an eye on things. Don't let those Bloodhand Gang bastards ambush them!

"Come back to pick me up tomorrow."

One bodyguard said hesitantly:

"Now? Won't it be unsafe for you to stay here alone?"

"Enough nonsense! Do as I say!" "Cyril" abruptly turned his head, his grayish-white eye staring fixedly at the bodyguard who had spoken.

Lorry knew very well how Cyril usually behaved toward his men. He never explained himself; he only demanded absolute obedience.

The two bodyguards exchanged glances, but neither dared say anything more. They hurriedly nodded, got dressed, and rushed off toward Sanson Bar.

Standing on the second-floor terrace, Lorry watched until Cyril's bodyguards had disappeared completely. Then he returned to the bedroom and tossed the woman in the bathroom back onto the bed.

After pulling the black suitcase outside, he went back in and locked the door from within. He climbed out through the study window and slid down a porch pillar into the yard.

"Praise the Goddess. May you have pleasant dreams."

Looking at the pitch-black house at No. 39, Lorry smiled and traced a Red Moon over his chest, then turned and pulled the suitcase away into the darkness.

The next morning.

On the outskirts of Backlund, beside the Tussock River.

Lorry stood by the bridge, calmly watching a black object sink swiftly beneath the river's surface. A trace of gentleness suddenly flashed in his eyes.

A long time later.

"Drowning while deeply unconscious shouldn't count as painful, should it?" He chuckled softly and walked toward the nearest road, looking relaxed.

The residual spirituality from the ritual would have dissipated long ago, and Cyril didn't die in the house... Even if someone reported it, it probably wouldn't alert the Mandated Punishers...

The police and the street children's mutual aid society would be more inclined to believe Cyril had disappeared rather than died. After all, both his bodyguards had seen him with their own eyes...

With Cyril's sensitive status added to that, the case would most likely be left unresolved...

Of course, Cyril's body might be found, but there's no evidence pointing directly to me. The Bloodhand Gang would actually look more suspicious...

In short, this was already the best plan available. For now, my revenge would

come to a pause... I could deal with Cyril as half a Sequence 9, but that's nowhere near enough to take on Baron Percival...

He's a noble... And he has Beyonder bodyguards...

I need to investigate this baron's background and the forces protecting him... I also need to gather the Marauder formula and the relevant ingredients as soon as possible, and become a complete Sequence 9...

Both tasks may require a great deal of money, time, and luck... Heh, hopefully Cyril's private stash will give me a pleasant surprise...

Amid the creaking of the wheels, Lorry leaned against the carriage's backrest, letting his thoughts wander as he sketched out his next plans in his mind.

"Of course, besides that, there's another little problem to take care of.

"The sewer worker, Old Jack!

"He may be an insignificant nobody, but he was directly responsible for my resurrection being discovered and the old man's death. I left him alone before because I was worried about alerting Cyril. Now that concern is gone.

"Before investigating Baron Percival, I'll deal with him first."

As his thoughts tumbled through his mind, the carriage arrived at Iris Street.

Warm sunlight shone down, and flowers and greenery lined both sides of the road. A faint fragrance filled the air, lifting the spirits.

Lorry paid the fare and stepped out of the carriage, then suddenly noticed someone crouching outside his door-his neighbor and sublessor, Miles.

It's one in the afternoon... And he's actually not sleeping at home... Rather surprised, Lorry strolled over, coughed softly, and asked:

"What's the matter, Mr. Miles? Did you need something from me?"