"Honorable Duke Kashchey, the celebration has begun."
A staff member entered the duke's study and bowed respectfully.
"I know. You may go."
"Yes, sir!"
The staff member withdrew as ordered—but on his way out, he couldn't help but steal a few glances at the odd figure sitting there: a penguin in sunglasses, a thick gold chain dangling from its neck.
"What are you staring at?! Never seen a penguin this stylish before?"
"M-my apologies!"
The staff member bowed hastily and left in a rush. That penguin was clearly a guest of Duke Kashchey; his own rudeness might have shamed the duke.
"Hmph! Your employees are a bit lacking in polish. Not half as refined as mine—each one handpicked from the very best."
"Oh? Then I truly must see them someday."
"Forget it. I even have Sankta working under me. You of all people should know what you look like in their eyes… 'The Faceless One with a Thousand Faces,' 'The Immortal Will of Madness,' 'The Serpent That Devours the Earth'…"
"…The Sankta never did have much taste in naming things. And to think [Resonance] lets them all agree on such vulgar nonsense."
"Hah! Who can say?"
---
"Please halt here, Sarkaz lady. This area is restricted to non-citizens."
With a polite smile, Senomi stepped in front of W, short blade in hand.
"The Happiness and Security Committee exists to bring people happiness. That's why all our investigators must keep a smile that makes others feel at ease."
It was advice from a golden-haired Phidia knight whose smile could brighten a room. Senomi had never forgotten those words.
"Heh… isn't that discrimination against non-citizens? Doesn't sound much like the 'fairness and justice' you publicly preach."
"This Sarkaz lady—if I allowed outsiders to wander freely, wouldn't that be unfair to the citizens who devote themselves to Duke Kashchey's domain?"
Senomi's courteous smile never faltered, though she had already called for reinforcements. Something about this Sarkaz woman felt dangerously wrong.
"And what if I say I'm going in anyway?"
W twirled a detonator idly in her hand.
"Then I'll have no choice but to apprehend you—for violating the laws of the Duke's domain."
Senomi's vigilance sharpened.
"Then go ahead and try."
In a blur, W hurled a bomb at her.
Senomi's eyes widened, and she dove for cover.
Boom!
The blast roared—but instead of carnage, only thick smoke billowed outward.
A smoke bomb.
Taking advantage of the sudden haze, W slipped past Senomi with a ghost's speed.
She had no desire to cause bloodshed in Kashchey's territory.
Deep down, a fragile sliver of hope still lingered.
Because W did not truly know what had happened the night Theresa was assassinated.
In truth, only the phantoms of Babel, and Kashchey—disguised in his mask as "Satan"—knew the truth of that night.
Even the smug Feline who always acted as if she knew everything had been left stunned and incredulous when she heard the news.
W had asked Ascalon about it once.
The woman, uncharacteristically, had worn an expression of shame.
"…Forgive me. For some reason, I've lost all memory of that night."
W understood. If Ascalon truly wanted to keep something from her, she would never have resorted to such a clumsy excuse.
When W questioned the Doctor, the only answer she received was a chilling silence—just "..."
The Doctor told the members of Babel that it was assassins sent by Theresis who had killed Theresa.
But W never believed that.
---
A grim suspicion had taken root in her heart.
She hated the thought, resisted it with all her will… yet she knew it was the closest thing to the truth.
[Satan] killed Theresa.
And W did not believe that the Doctor—who planned for everything—had failed to foresee the assassination.
That very day, he had deliberately dispatched most of Babel's strength on missions outside.
Satan vanished on the same day Theresa was killed, his whereabouts unknown.
He certainly had the power to suppress Ascalon… even to erase her memories.
---
Later, W left Babel and began chasing down the assassins who had carried out the plan.
At the same time, she searched for any trace of Satan—even joining the so-called Satan's Treasure-Hunting Crew for a while.
But it was as if Satan had evaporated from existence. He never appeared again within Kazdel.
Impostors cropped up, pretending to be him for their own gain.
Yet a sect calling itself the Cult of Satan swiftly executed every counterfeit.
As W continued her bloody pursuit of assassins and gathered fragments of information, another piece of ill news reached her ears.
Ursus had just released a new installment of its official toy series: "The Ever-Changing Duke Kashchey."
---
When W learned that Satan's true identity was none other than the Eternal Duke of Ursus, her mind fell into turmoil.
In the end, she chose to run from it.
She drowned herself in hunting assassins, desperately numbing her thoughts, refusing to face anything about Satan.
But running away could not erase the truth.
When she finally cut down the last assassin involved in the plot, she heard word of Duke Kashchey hosting a grand celebration.
And so she came here—to seek an answer.
---
"It's all right, Senomi."
The golden-haired Phidia knight who had come to support her smiled reassuringly.
"Her strength was beyond what you could handle. The important thing is that you're unharmed."
Shame burned in Senomi's face; she bowed her head, cheeks flushed crimson.
Whenever her emotions ran high, the color always rose instantly to her skin.
"Leave her aside for now… Another of my bodies is already on its way. Against a Sarkaz, it is far more fitting to use Satan."
---
"It's been a while, W."
She had found her target—no, her target had found her.
A red-haired Sarkaz man in a suit and high top hat appeared before her.
"We shared such deep ties once, and yet when you arrive at my doorstep, you can't even offer me a greeting."
With mock sorrow, Satan pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and dabbed at nonexistent tears.
"I was only hoping to 'visit' you in person," W replied, her smile sharp and cold.
"Oh? Is that so? Then it seems I was being petty."
Satan snapped his fingers.
In the middle of the empty street, a table appeared as if conjured from nothing, laden with a spread of desserts and sweets.
After all, nearly the entire populace of the duke's domain had gone to attend the festival, and the venue was far away.
The Happiness and Security Committee's investigators, who usually patrolled this district, had already been ordered elsewhere to keep order at the celebration.
Kashchey's command was absolute.
And Satan, being one of Kashchey's many bodies, was Kashchey himself.
"Please, sit."
Satan had already taken his place at the table.
"Join me for afternoon tea, W."
After all, I cannot allow anyone but me to cause trouble during my celebration.