Actually, Fors could understand, to some extent, how Loen's authorities were handling things.
Unemployment brought on by economic decline, population losses from the great smog... discontent had been quietly accumulating in the hearts of Loen's common people, and that resentment needed a target to vent itself upon.
The royal family and the government departments naturally had no wish to become that target, so they steered public opinion instead, pointing every accusing finger at their neighbor to the north.
And so, everything became Feysac's fault.
That barbaric empire, its very existence was said to be a mistake.
It was they who had seized Sonia Island, snatched away Loen's colonies on the southern continent, kept escalating their military might, threatening Loen's survival, causing the nation's economy to stagnate, every ordinary citizen of Loen suffering for it...
Especially since the two nations had never gotten along from the start, with centuries of historical grievances between them; the moment the authorities stirred the pot, public sentiment shifted at once.
Those poor laborers, after a hard day's work, drinking cheap liquor in taverns, now had one more country they'd never even visited to curse at.
Though, word was Feysac was running similar operations on their end...
"Politicians... a pack of habitual liars, the lot of them."
Fors snuffed out her cigarette, shaking her head as she offered the assessment.
Her mood, which had been decent enough, had now soured. She tossed the newspaper aside, pulled a manuscript sheet toward herself, and began sketching out a new piece.
That flash of inspiration a moment ago had been quite good, the story of a Craziest Hunter; let it begin from her own hand!
And yet, as every writer of fiction has experienced, ideas and inspiration are at their most beautiful while still brewing in the mind.
Once it came time to commit them to paper, to write them out word by word, it turned into an ordeal of suffering.
Fors sat before the blank manuscript sheet, unconsciously tugging at her light brown, slightly curly hair, unable to put pen to paper.
Creak-
Fortunately, at that moment, the door behind her opened. As though saved, she tossed aside the manuscript and turned, looking at her friend and roommate, Xio Derecha.
"You're back? Did today's Beyonder gathering go well?"
Fors asked, fishing, half deliberately, for clues about that "Mr. X."
That's right, I have more important things to attend to, I need to help my teacher clear out his enemies. Writing novels and the like can wait for now... she thought to herself, finding an excuse for her own laziness.
"About as usual."
Xio glanced at her and said, "The past few gatherings, Mr. X's meeting spot has finally settled into a fixed location... probably because the authorities kept failing to catch him and gave up the pursuit."
The location's settled now? Excellent!
A flicker of delight passed through Fors's heart. "So where's the new location?"
Mr. Temperance had already returned to Backlund, and he was waiting for her to pass this information along... thinking of this, an eager gleam couldn't help but show in her eyes.
"What's wrong with you? You look kind of strange."
Xio eyed her suspiciously.
"It's nothing."
Fors snapped back to herself and quickly shook her head. "I was just thinking there might be materials for my promotion at the gathering. I got a bit too excited, that's all!"
"Oh, I see..."
Xio nodded, noncommittal. "That gathering is held at Number 11, Third Avenue, Chuwood District. Keep an eye on Backlund Bridge; if the flag on the spire there turns red, that means the gathering will be held the next day... I've got a lot going on lately, so you might have to head over there yourself..."
"Okay, got it all memorized."
Fors nodded repeatedly.
Perhaps before contacting Mr. Temperance, I should scout it out myself first, make sure the information's accurate? But that "Mr. X," Lewis Wien, follows the same Pathway as me; he might notice me, and that could raise his suspicions about my connection to my teacher... it might actually backfire...
"Actually, I wouldn't recommend you go to that gathering anytime soon."
Just as Fors was wrestling with this in her mind, Xio spoke up again, sounding somewhat concerned.
"Why not?"
Fors asked.
"That Mr. X, he's been off lately."
Xio said, frowning, drawing on the keen instincts of her Arbiter Pathway.
"Whenever he holds the gatherings, his attention keeps wandering, like he's waiting for something, or on guard against something. It's really suspicious..."
Fors was startled at this.
What could Lewis be on guard against?
Backlund, Bridge District, inside an old, run-down house.
Leonard and the rest of the squad followed behind the deacon, crossing over the police cordon and stepping into the house.
A thick stench of blood immediately assaulted their nostrils, and the grisly scene on the floor came into view at once.
There, the three victims: not a single part of their bodies remained intact, their limbs bent at unnatural angles, their heads all turned to face the window, a vivid flower jammed into the right eye socket of each.
No matter how many times he'd seen scenes like this, cult sacrifice scenes always left a person feeling sick... Leonard thought to himself, noticing that Deacon Ahab Ishmael was also bent over, examining the scene.
After a moment, the newly appointed deacon turned his head, looking toward the squad members.
Standing in the pool of blood, he began questioning them once again.
"Alright, now, who can tell me which cult carried out this bloody sacrifice?"
His gaze lingered over the crowd.
Leonard could sense Sandro beside him give a sudden start, probably worried about being singled out to answer again.
To spare his colleague further trouble, he took the opportunity to raise his hand.
"Deacon, sir, the scene is extremely bloody, the victims' eyes have had flowers inserted into them, and their faces have all been arranged to face the moon... judging by these details, it should be the Rose School of Thought."
That organization was known precisely for its bloody sacrifices.
"Correct."
Silas nodded, then continued, "More specifically, then, which evil god is this sacrifice dedicated to?"
"This..."
Leonard was stumped.
The Rose School of Thought worshipped two evil gods at once; how was he supposed to know which one?
"It's the Primordial Moon."
"Mm."
Silas said, seeing this, "The faction that worships the Mother Tree of Desire tends to be far more indulgent... if it were them, the bodies wouldn't have been left behind at all, they'd have ended up in their stomachs instead."
The squad members, hearing this, all showed expressions of discomfort.
"Alright, let's go."
Silas said, turning to leave.
"Sir?"
Squad leader Soest looked puzzled at this. "We're not continuing the investigation?"
"What is there left to do here?"
Silas said, somewhat at a loss for words. "You want to investigate the souls of the dead? They've already been corrupted by the ritual; if syou try to commune with them, it'll pollute your own souls instead."
"But we can't just leave like this, we have to solve the case..."
"You don't have to stay here to solve it."
Silas shook his head. "Followers of the Primordial Moon have come to Backlund; there's a group out there who'll care about this a lot more than we do... just go ask them directly."
Indeed, the group he meant was none other than the vampires.