After parting ways, everyone returned home. Audrey used the Vanishing Cabinet to return to the Hall family's villa, while Edward made his way back to Tingen.
As soon as he stepped into his bedroom, Lilith, who had been curled up on his pillow, lazily stretched. She arched her back, stuck her little rump in the air, and let out a long yawn.
"Meow? (□`川)"
Then, with tiny, deliberate steps, she padded over and rubbed against Edward's pant leg.
Edward reached down and ruffled her little head.
"You know, if you stayed at Hogwarts, at least you'd have other cats, owls, and students to keep you company. But sticking with me means you'll often be left home alone. It's not that I don't want to take you with me…it's just that this world is far too dangerous."
Lilith rubbed against his hand, yawned again, and with a soft plop, flopped onto the bed, curling into a fluffy little ball. Within moments, she was fast asleep again.
"It's about time I let Lilith take a potion."
"But…should I really choose the Witch pathway for her? If I remember correctly, for females…well, females…the Witch pathway is even more dangerous."
Logically speaking, since the Witch pathway was designed for women, they should have an advantage. That was, until Cheek, that damned gender-bending freak, became the Primordial Demoness.
Perhaps out of twisted amusement, or maybe as some form of revenge, Cheek's influence made it so that all females who chose the Witch pathway were more prone to losing control and going insane.
However, low-Sequence levels were relatively safer. Edward wasn't aiming for anything extreme—he just wanted Lilith to have some way to protect herself in this world.
He rubbed his chin in thought.
"Hmm? What about that Apothecary formula I just got? Both the recipe and materials are readily available. And…a Vampire pathway could work too."
"But how the hell is a cat supposed to act like an Apothecary?"
He picked up Lilith's soft little paw and examined it.
"An Apothecary needs to brew potions, right? But with these tiny paws…can she even manage that?"
And then there was another issue—Edward recalled that anyone who consumed a potion with the same name as a deity on their pathway was at risk of becoming a vessel for that god's descent.
"Nope, too dangerous."
"The Witch pathway it is."
The Night Watchers would be hunting down a Witch soon. Edward figured he could try channeling her spirit to obtain the formula.
As Edward debated over Lilith's pathway, the curled-up furball suddenly peeked open one eye. A sly glint flickered within, but she quickly shut it again, pretending to be asleep.
———
Sunday Morning.
Yawning, Edward made his way into Blackthorn Security Company. He had originally planned to bring Lilith along, but she had flat-out refused. After a whole night of running wild, she had earned her daytime nap.
"Good morning, Edward!"
Rosanne greeted him with a bright smile.
"I didn't expect you to take a day off on your first day at work. If only I had your guts—I haven't taken a break in forever."
Edward accepted the coffee she handed him, taking in the light aroma of roasted beans.
"That bad? I mean, taking a day off now and then shouldn't be a big deal. Don't tell me the captain refuses to approve your leave?"
Rosanne shook her head.
"It's not that…It's just that every time I walk up to the captain's office, I instantly lose the courage to ask."
She lowered her voice.
"I swear, I can see my dad in him."
Edward took a sip of coffee.
"My advice? Everything deserves at least one attempt. Though we've only just met, I really don't think the captain is as unreasonable as you imagine."
Swirling the coffee in his cup, he turned to leave.
"I'll be downstairs. Oh, and by the way—great coffee. Thanks~"
———
Braving the cold morning wind, Edward headed toward the Nighthawks' office.
Inside, Leonard was reading a thick book. He lifted his gaze briefly when he heard Edward's footsteps, giving him a small nod in greeting.
Not far from Leonard sat a pale, black-cloaked man who radiated an aura of absolute unapproachability. His fingers, deathly white, played absently with a small, razor-sharp knife.
His expression was cold as ice as he spoke.
"Hello, I'm Frye."
Frye the Corpse Collector—a man who spent his days dealing with the dead.
"Edward," he introduced himself in return.
Just then, Klein emerged from the underground chamber, looking utterly exhausted. His face was haggard, and it was obvious he hadn't slept a wink all night.
"Oh, you're here," Klein muttered, rubbing his temple. "How did it go?"
"More or less settled. You…?"
"I was on Chanis Gate watch duty last night. If it weren't for Old Neil keeping me company, I have no idea how I would've survived the shift."
He glanced at his pocket watch.
"Damn, it's almost 8 AM already…I still have to head over to the shooting club."
He had previously arranged a meeting with Daxter Guderian, a psychiatrist from the Greenhill Mental Asylum, at the shooting club. If not for that prior commitment, he would have gone straight home to collapse into bed.
"Shooting club?"
Edward suddenly recalled the antique revolver he had confiscated from Danitz last night.
Back in the Harry Potter world, he had trained with handguns before—but revolvers in the Lord of the Mysteries world were a completely different beast.
Last time, he had bought a revolver and Purification Bullets specifically to deal with vengeful spirits. In the end, he hadn't even fired a single shot before handing the weapon over to Harry.
"Maybe I should train my shooting skills too."
If he ever got his hands on Beyonder firearms, they could serve as a powerful backup weapon. Imagine facing an enemy who expected him to use magic—only for him to whip out a gun instead.
"You thought I was going to cast a spell? HAH—eat lead!"
Having made up his mind, Edward asked,
"Mind if I tag along?"
"Of course not," Klein replied.
"Zotland Shooting Club is actually affiliated with the police department. Just show the staff your 'Special Operations Unit' badge, and they'll take you to the underground shooting range."
"Oh, and before you go—stop by the armory to grab some bullets. Buying them on-site is ridiculously expensive."
Edward nodded and headed toward the captain's office.
"Alright, I'll check if the captain has any tasks for me. If not, I'll go with you."
A few minutes later, he emerged from the office, having received no assignments. After picking up a few magazines of ammunition from the armory, he returned.
"Let's go."
As they reached the staircase, Edward suddenly turned back to look at Leonard.
"Leonard, the other night after work, it seemed like you wanted to say something to me. Did you still need to talk? Or do you want to come with us?"
"No need," Leonard waved him off. "I have to patrol the cemetery later."
"Alright, see you around."
———
[Zotland Shooting Club—Private Shooting Range]
Edward and Klein aimed at their respective targets, firing a few rounds.
Klein consistently hit the seventh ring and above with each shot, while Edward's first shot completely missed. His second landed on the second ring, but from the third shot onward, he managed to keep above the fifth ring, occasionally hitting the eighth ring when lucky.
This level of marksmanship was far from passable.
Back in the Harry Potter world, Edward had trained with small automatic pistols, which had lower recoil and were easier to aim. But in the Lord of the Mysteries world, revolvers were the norm—more powerful but with significantly higher recoil. He would need time to adjust.
Klein casually flicked out the spent casings and looked at Edward in surprise.
"Judging from your first few shots, I thought you'd never used a gun before."
"Mm, I played around with them a long time ago, but it was just a brief experiment."
Edward carefully loaded fresh bullets into his magazine.
"To be honest, I didn't expect to get used to it this quickly."
Just then, a man entered the shooting range—a well-dressed gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses and an air of distinction. He paused slightly upon seeing Edward.
"This gentleman is…?"
Klein smiled.
"My colleague, Edward. He's also a Beyonder. Edward, this is Daxter Guderian, a psychiatrist from the Greenhill Mental Asylum."
Greenhill Mental Asylum?
Edward's expression flickered with surprise.
Just a couple of days ago, he had been invited by the asylum's director to perform magic tricks—and now, he was meeting an asylum doctor?
He quickly rifled through his memories of Lord of the Mysteries and vaguely recalled that Klein had discovered this doctor was a Beyonder, eventually recruiting him as an informant.
"Nice to meet you."
They shook hands, acknowledging each other.
Klein sat down on a long, cushioned bench and toyed with the bronze whistle he had obtained from Mr. Azik the day before.
"How's Hood Eugen doing lately?"
Dusty fell silent for a second before replying,
"…He's really gone mad."
"I've tested him in every possible way—he's completely lost his sanity. I've been considering prescribing some medication to see if I can treat him. But…"
He hesitated, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"Two days before he lost his mind, he suddenly came to me, saying he wanted to watch some kind of…magic performance. I tried asking why, but by then, his mind was already unraveling."
"Magic performance?" Edward's brow furrowed.
What a coincidence.
Klein scratched his cheek, equally puzzled.
"Some kind of secret code?"
Daxter shrugged, raised his revolver, and fired two quick shots at the target.
"The interesting part is that two days ago, the asylum's director suddenly announced that there would be a magic performance at the hospital next week."
Edward and Klein exchanged a glance.
"The director—is he suspicious?"
"No. I'm fairly certain he's just an ordinary person."
Klein mulled it over and asked,
"Before Eugen lost his mind, did anyone unusual come into contact with him? Have you checked?"
"Other than the usual doctors, patients, nurses, and orderlies, no outsiders had any contact with him."
Daxter's tone was firm.
Klein nodded.
"What about before that? Did anyone visit him, or did he ever leave the asylum for extended periods?"
Dusty fell into deep thought. After a long silence, he finally answered,
"Apart from members of the Psychology Alchemists, fewer than five people visited him. One visitor, in particular, came three times. His name was El."
He paused before adding,
"But Eugen once mentioned that El was a fake name. His real name is Lanevus."
"Lanevus?"
Klein's expression instantly darkened.
He could never forget that con artist and scumbag—a fraud who cheated both money and women!
And the moment Klein recalled Lanevus, his mind immediately jumped to that poor girl, Megose, who was still missing.
While Klein felt a mix of anger and pity, Edward, upon hearing the name Lanevus, felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.
An overwhelming chill spread from within him.
He had forgotten.
He had actually forgotten Lanevus, Megose…and even that pathetic playwright!
No.
Not forgotten—overlooked.
After Megose attacked him, after he believed he had resolved the crisis, he still remembered the original reason why Dunn and Klein died in the novel.
But he had completely ignored the real cause of their deaths—it wasn't Megose.
It was that one-eyed bastard!
When had this ignorance started?
After arriving in Tingen?
Why did this happen?
Was it because of that damned quill?
Megose was already dead. Her original 'script' couldn't be continued.
So now—had the playwright given up?
Or was he about to write an even worse, even sloppier script?
Had he already pulled Edward into a new 'story'?
What role had he arranged for him this time?
If today, that bastard could make him subconsciously overlook such an important figure, then tomorrow…
He could just as easily make Edward die inexplicably.
No—not just possibly.
Inevitably.
As long as Edward remained in his script, as long as he stood in the way of Ince getting the Saint's ashes, that damned third-rate playwright would find a way to erase him!
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.