"So where's the paper?"
"The spirit vision potion I drank back then was carved on a stone tablet."
"And where's the tablet?"
"It was so heavy, do you think I could've carried it with me?"
"See, I told you there was something wrong with your memory."
"Bullshit, it's just a normal lapse in memory!"
"Old Ed."
Elias spoke suddenly, his voice as calm as a pool of stagnant water.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to fly?"
"I mean, I'd like to, but I'd probably need to reach a high Scale..."
Old Ed instinctively began a serious analysis.
"Or perhaps some specific transcendent item..."
Click.
A crisp metallic sound interrupted his lecture.
Old Ed realized with horror that Elias had already pushed open the bedroom window.
The night wind rushed in instantly, making the curtains dance wildly.
Elias remained expressionless, his right arm raised high, clutching the bracelet. More than half his body leaned out the window; below was the hard stone pavement.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Elias! Calm down! Stay calm!"
Old Ed shouted in terror.
"Let's talk this out! Close the window!"
"I'll teach you something else! Anything else, okay?!"
Upon hearing this, Elias's raised arm froze instantly, as if a pause button had been pressed.
He slowly pulled his arm back, closed the window, and snapped the brass lock. His movements were fluid, as if the thug who was just about to throw something from a height was merely a hallucination.
"Go on."
Elias sat back on the edge of the bed, the expression on his face softening considerably.
"You... look at you, threatening a lonely old man every single day!"
Old Ed, still shaken, grumbled and nagged.
"Wasn't I just trying to be responsible for you?"
"How could I dare teach you something when my own memory of it is fragmented?"
"That doesn't sound right."
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"Don't you also lack morals?"
"How can you try to guilt-trip me like that?"
"..."
Old Ed was speechless.
"Fine, fine!"
He seemed to be afraid of that poison-tipped tongue.
"I'll teach you how to make a few charms, how about that?"
"Charms?"
Elias's brow furrowed, his gaze instantly turning sharp.
"What else are you hiding from me?"
This old guy was like toothpaste; if you didn't squeeze him, you'd never know how much was left inside.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"There's so much for you to learn! Do you expect me to tell you everything at once?"
Old Ed retorted righteously.
"I have to remember it before I can teach you, don't I?"
"Human memory has trigger mechanisms, you know?"
As if feeling his excuse wasn't strong enough, he added another.
"Besides, you couldn't even find a decent blade of grass on that island, let alone transcendent materials for crafting!"
"Do I have transcendent materials now?"
Elias countered with a raised eyebrow.
"I suppose that's true..."
Old Ed delivered a finishing blow.
"And you can't afford them anyway."
"At least I'm alive and have my freedom."
Elias shot back without hesitation.
The two traded meaningless insults for a while until they both felt parched. Only then did Old Ed drop his disrespectful tone and become serious.
"Tomorrow, we need to visit the Arcane Black Market and the Society of Freemen."
"Wait, what are those?"
Elias was stunned.
"The Arcane Black Market sells all sorts of transcendent materials; it's the only supply station for independent transcendents like you."
"Of course, you can also buy recipes for the spirit vision potion there, though their authenticity remains to be evaluated."
"And they're very expensive."
Old Ed explained.
"As for the Society of Freemen, that's where independent transcendents from all over gather."
"These people might believe in the gods, but for various reasons, they don't want to join the corresponding orthodox god churches."
"So they take on commissions at the Society of Freemen to earn gold crowns and resources."
Elias felt his heart skip a beat, a sudden surge of regret washing over him as if he'd missed out on millions.
"Holy crap?"
"Why didn't you mention such a great place back in Hastings Port?"
"If I'd known, I would've taken a few jobs!"
"Did you have the time?"
Old Ed mocked him mercilessly.
"Come on, Mr. Busy Man, let's look at the record!"
"You were drugged right after getting off the train for dinner."
"Then you kept heading toward the beach, making people think you were going to jump into the sea and kill yourself."
"Fighting cultists one moment and running away overnight the next—did I have any chance to tell you?"
"You had to catch a train the next day. Did you have time to browse a black market?"
"Stop!"
Elias clutched his forehead in pain.
"Master, please stop the chanting!"
"Let's just not mention those things!"
"So, does the Society of Freemen pay well?"
Elias quickly pivoted back to the main point.
This was his most pressing concern.
For someone with only 26 gold crowns, that might be considered comfortable for living in a big city like Hope County.
But this was the Arcane Black Market!
It sounded like it would burn through money!
In the transcendent world, poverty was far more terrifying than monsters.
"A lot! Rest assured! As long as you're willing to risk your life, money isn't an issue."
"Once you have the money, you'll naturally be able to buy the Scale Two spirit vision potion."
Old Ed guaranteed confidently.
"However, considering you're a novice, we can start by taking some small, low-risk commissions."
That was indeed a viable option.
Elias looked out at the pitch-black night, calculating in his mind.
In this mysterious and unpredictable world, relying solely on an elemental revolver wasn't safe enough.
This time, he planned to take more precautions before acting. Whether it was charms or intelligence, everything had to be prepared thoroughly.
...
Earlier that day, on the other side of the city.
Seventh Agency, Hope County Branch.
The gas lamps in the office cast a pale light over the mahogany desk piled with files.
"Ms. Cecil, the fugitives have arrived in Hope County, but they haven't made a move."
"Most of the incidents within Hope County are just normal public security cases."
An investigator in a black uniform stood tall, reporting to Ivy Cecil, who stood in the center of the office.
"Therefore, most of these cases have already been handed over to the local police station to resolve."
"Normal?"
Ms. Cecil scoffed.
"Normalcy is the greatest abnormality."
By now, she had shed the ladylike dress she wore as a disguise and changed back into the standard-issue gear of the Seventh Agency.
Her expression was cold and stern, a world away from the gentle lady at the train station.
"Greetings, Ms. Cecil from headquarters."
A low, oppressive voice came from the doorway.
A short man walked in quickly, followed by several investigators with sharp, imposing auras.
He was truly short, wearing a black eye patch, reaching only to Cecil's shoulder. However, a sharp light flickered in his single exposed eye.
The moment he entered the room, despite being shorter than everyone else, his presence instantly dominated the office.
The air seemed to grow heavy with his arrival.
"Hello, Branch Chief Guardian."
Ms. Cecil turned immediately and gave a standard knight's salute.
She knew very well that if anyone looked down on the "One-Eyed Giant" before her because of his height, they would be the ones to suffer.
The short man addressed as Branch Chief Guardian nodded slightly, waving his black-gloved hand to dismiss the others.
Once the subordinates had left, he walked to the desk but did not sit. Instead, he looked up at Cecil, his voice raspy.
"The few suspected transcendent cases that Hope County missed previously were indeed our oversight."
"However, headquarters didn't send a messenger in advance. After all, if the Old Palace Yard were to intervene first, we would have lost the initiative."
"We've ruled out several locations over the past few days. Now, only three cases fit the profile of a transcendent case."
He held up three fingers.
"The Golden Rose Hotel shooting, the Rockmire Factory arson, and—the Pinewood Alley disappearance."
"There are faint spiritual residues at the scenes, but the first two cases happened too long ago. The spiritual residues are no longer identifiable."
"Whether they were the work of a transcendent is another matter."
Guardian paused.
"The Pinewood Alley disappearance, however, happened quite recently."
"As soon as the police got involved, I had my people use our authority to take over the case."
"There is a significant amount of spiritual residue at the scene. I believe we can start here."
Cecil nodded, her expression grave.
She pulled a wanted poster from a thick stack of documents, which depicted an unremarkable, common face.
Guardian glanced at the portrait.
"So, what's the name of the guy who stole the confidential carriage?"
Ms. Cecil's red lips moved slightly.
"John Baker."
Rate on N.U.
