Trier, Southwestern Borough.
On Connor Street at night, the gas lamps bathed the smooth road in a dim glow as the crimson moon hung high in the sky.
A three-member Machinery Hivemind team, relying on their agility and coordination, silently vaulted over the fence surrounding the home of Parliament Member Alice Camp.
They moved quickly across the garden and reached the side of the house, working together to climb up to the second-floor balcony.
"Captain, it looks like no one's here…" murmured Pierre, the bearded man in the trio, as he used a tarot card to lift the window latch open.
"That's not normal," said the short-haired young captain, frowning. "Even if Ms. Camp went out, her servants should still be around!"
According to intelligence from their local informant, Russell had visited Member Camp earlier that morning for reasons unknown and had left in the afternoon.
Having been tailing Russell for some time, the Machinery Hivemind squad decided to use the cover of night to investigate — to see if there were any new clues to be found.
Of course, none of them knew that Alice Camp's true identity was the public persona of "Ancient Scholar" Daphne Priestley.
"Could something have happened? That informant said he hadn't seen any of Camp's servants leave the house since Russell's visit," said the team's only female member, a witch named Lisa, her expression grave.
Hearing that, the young captain didn't reply, but the crisp click of him loading his revolver was enough to make the other two raise their guard to the maximum.
However, when the three infiltrated the parliamentarian's home, they didn't find a single trace of blood or violence. The entire house was empty — yet the half-drunk coffee in the sitting room, the open book in the parlor, and the half-cut potatoes on the kitchen counter all suggested the occupants had vanished suddenly.
"Russell killed them and disposed of the bodies?" Pierre suggested after they regrouped, having searched the whole building.
"You mean Ms. Camp either offended him or held some sort of incriminating evidence, so he silenced her?" Lisa asked thoughtfully.
"More likely the latter. But it doesn't seem premeditated — looks like a crime of impulse. If it were planned, Russell wouldn't have allowed anyone to see him entering her home," Pierre analyzed.
The captain's eyes brightened. He clapped his hands softly. "That means he probably discovered Camp's secret after arriving, acted in haste, and might've left clues behind!"
He turned to Lisa. "Try divining if there's a secret room here."
If Camp had hidden anything important, it would surely be well concealed — and demons weren't known for divination.
Lisa nodded, took a silver chain in her hand, and let the pendulum dangle freely as she entered a meditative state.
Her pupils darkened as she murmured softly,
"This house has a hidden chamber… this house has a hidden chamber…"
She repeated the phrase seven times, and when her eyes regained their normal color, she looked down to see the yellow crystal pendant spinning clockwise.
That meant confirmation.
The three immediately began searching again, and with Lisa's divination as a guide, they soon found a small hidden room behind the parlor.
Inside was nothing but a single small bookshelf — and atop it lay a stack of documents.
The captain carefully picked up the papers. After reading just a few lines, his entire body stiffened, blood rushing to his head until he felt dizzy.
"If this content is true… the consequences…" He flipped through a few more pages, took a deep breath, and forced himself to stay calm.
No wonder Russell had killed her to silence her — this evidence was devastating.
Right now, the most important thing was to get the documents safely back to the Church… or better yet, into the hands of a high-ranking bishop or senior deacon.
But just as that thought flashed through his mind, a crushing sensation gripped his heart. His spiritual intuition screamed danger, paralyzing him in place.
His two teammates were frozen as well, their bodies unresponsive.
From the shadows stepped a man with neatly combed hair, who elegantly took the stack of files from the captain's hand and said with a smile, "Many thanks for finding these for me. As expected — professional work requires professionals."
"Russell!" the three Machinery Hivemind agents snarled in unison.
"Since you know my name, I'll make sure you don't die too painfully," Russell said pleasantly, his tone utterly at odds with the words that followed. "Just like Ms. Camp, the owner of this house."
As he spoke, he began to raise his right hand, fingers curling into a fist.
But just before the deadly gesture completed, a formation of sigils flared beneath the agents' feet — and in the next instant, they vanished, reappearing on the street outside the compound wall.
That was thanks to their Sealed Artifact, 2-113.
It was a flag-shaped relic — as long as it was planted somewhere ahead of time, anyone who had touched it could, within half an hour, be pulled back to its location. It worked for up to three people, within a hundred meters.
For safety, the squad had planted the flag in a nearby alley before infiltrating. It had just saved their lives.
"Split up! We must get word of Russell and the Prime Minister's plot back to the Church!" the captain barked as soon as his heartbeat returned to normal.
At his order, the three scattered in different directions.
Pierre, as an Appraiser, had his physical stats slightly enhanced by his potion but was still the slowest of the three.
After sprinting only one block, he found his path blocked by a three-meter-tall demon reeking of sulfur, leathery bat wings spread behind it.
Despair flashed through him — but, as a Machinery Hivemind operative, he raised his revolver bravely, prepared to fight and die honorably.
Before he could shoot, a solemn voice rang out from above:
"This area — Mystery weakens, Reality strengthens!"
At those words, the towering demon's body flickered, becoming hazy, its form on the verge of collapse.
It cast one last deep glance at the speaker before turning and fleeing without hesitation.
The voice's owner didn't intend to let it go either — a faint shimmer appeared around him as he pursued swiftly using some mystical tool.
Pierre lifted his head weakly, catching a glimpse of a young man in a high top hat and formal suit.
He was still stunned when he heard someone shout his name. Turning, he saw his captain and Lisa running toward him.
"You two—?" Pierre blinked, still dazed, wondering if he was dreaming.
"It was that gentleman — the one who called himself the Professor. He happened to pass by and saved us," Lisa explained quickly.
"The Professor? That young gentleman?" Pierre asked, regaining some composure.
"Yes, he introduced himself as the Professor. He might be Russell's enemy. But now isn't the time — we need to reach the nearest Church and request backup," the captain ordered swiftly.
"Yes, Captain!"
.....
Not far away, inside another house, Daphne dispelled the Historical Projection and turned to the man beside her with a smile.
"How did I do, Divine Envoy?"
For this performance, she had even abandoned her public identity as a parliament member.
"Not bad," Ebner said with an approving nod. He was just about to compliment her further when his spirituality suddenly flared in warning.
He turned sharply — and there, hovering outside the second-floor balcony, stood a tall, handsome young man with chestnut-brown hair.
Though they had never met, the moment Ebner's gaze fell on him, a name surfaced unbidden in his mind:
"Bornova Gustav."
(End of Chapter)