Chapter 472 - Hidden Arrangents
In the dimly lit West Street, nestled at the boundary between the West Borough and the South Bridge District in Backlund, a mber of the Mandated Punishers squad led McConaughey and Stewart to the corner of a house.
"I followed Irene to this location," the Punisher reported concisely, "and witnessed her 'erase' her own presence... She vanished entirely."
The Punisher's familiarity with a Witch's abilities, instilled after the humiliating Demoness of Affliction incident months earlier, led to the quick conclusion that Irene had ascended to a Witch.
Stewart nodded at the report, then initiated a "Scene Reversion." Monts later, his brows furrowed.
"It's no use. The traces left behind are faint, and the reversion is blurry. I can't determine where she went."
Stewart tried several other mystic techniques in succession, but the results were equally unsatisfactory. Shaking his head, he turned to McConaughey.
"What now?" McConaughey scowled. His irritation turned to unease when he noticed Stewart biting his lip, seemingly making a decision.
Suddenly, realization dawned on him. His face paled, and his voice cracked as he stamred, "You're not seriously thinking about using that ritual, are you?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Stewart retorted as he retrieved various materials and a small mirror from his coat pockets, preparing for an Invocation Ritual.
Looking around at the surrounding squad mbers, McConaughey lowered his voice and suggested, "At least let's move sowhere with fewer people..."
"It's too late for that," Stewart interrupted. "This particular mystic art has been used too frequently. I can no longer bypass the rules of '2-111.' Whoever asks the questions will inevitably need an audience to bear witness."
McConaughey's expression contorted further. "Then... I'll do it this ti?"
Stewart clapped his hand on McConaughey's shoulder and said, "No. You're the captain. If sothing embarrassing gets revealed, it'll undermine your authority. I'll handle this."
McConaughey heaved a small sigh of relief but couldn't resist grumbling, "How are you so sure I have embarrassing secrets that might get exposed?"
Stewart glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, and countered lightly, "Then why don't you do the asking?"
That shut McConaughey up.
As the ritual preparations neared completion, Stewart, standing amidst his curious and nervous subordinates, began chanting the invocation:
"Executor of thunderbolts, arbiter of contracts, magic mirror with the all-seeing eye, humble servant of the great master, Arodes...
"I beseech your power to descend upon this mirror;
"I beseech your knowledge to provide answers to my questions..."
He burned the written question with his spirituality, letting the ashes scatter across the altar.
Soon, the mirror atop the altar flickered, displaying vivid scenes of Irene's journey. It traced her path clearly until it stopped at a three-story house on Rhine Street in the South Bridge District.
Stewart's expression shifted subtly upon recognizing the location. The house was near his own rented residence, separated by only one wall from the forr ho of Mrs. Felina—the woman he'd helped move to the Northern Borough after her husband's passing.
He rembered the house had recently been rented out to two won. However, Stewart's busy schedule over the past week had kept him from paying them a courtesy visit.
While Stewart's thoughts wandered, the mirror's images faded, replaced by a line of crimson Ruen text:
"That night, when you mimicked Kuhn's voice and shouted 'Mrs. Felina,' was it because you truly found her beautiful, or because her deanor reminded you of your first love?"
As if concerned about the poor lighting, the text projected onto a nearby wall with a glowing effect for better visibility.
McConaughey gawked at the question, his face frozen in a mix of astonishnt and disbelief. It hardly mattered whether Stewart answered or not. Judging by the awkward glances and suppressed snickers among the other Punishers, Stewart's reputation was bound to take another hit—especially with Kuhn involved, as the man had personally overseen Mrs. Felina's relocation.
Feeling a mix of pity and schadenfreude, McConaughey decided that Stewart had brought this upon himself.
Standing rigid before the altar, Stewart suddenly realized the bitter truth:
His mystic technique had likely never truly bypassed the rules of 2-111. All those "favors" he had been compelled to perform—the "leverage" that Arodes held over him—were ticulously planned, waiting for the perfect mont to publicly humiliate him.
Even his initial success in interpreting Arodes's cryptic statents and adapting them into usable mystic arts was likely a deliberate ploy by the mirror itself.
What a malevolent personality for a Sealed Artifact...
At least, it was still "fair." The information it provided was always accurate.
Stewart closed his eyes and replied calmly, "Both."
"Correct answer."
The mirror's surface displayed these words in bold Loen text before abruptly shattering into a cascade of fragnts that scattered across the floor.
McConaughey, startled by the unexpected event, asked, "The ritual didn't behave like this before. What just happened?"
After a brief silence, Stewart's face tightened into a complex expression as he muttered, "It's had its fun with ."
...
Ten minutes later, Tand, the Marionettist, appeared at the sa corner where the Mandated Punishers had been monts before. He paused to survey the area before standing his staff upright and allowing it to lean naturally.
Dowsing Rod Divination, a seeker's tool from the Seer pathway.
After confirming the direction, Tand's figure faded into the dim light of the street, reappearing on a distant avenue under a flickering gas lamp.
...
In a modest two-story house on Rhine Street, a short-haired Lina, dressed in masculine attire, placed the final touches on dinner before calling Shoko down from upstairs.
Despite Helene's culinary inexperience, her dishes had an unexpected charm, as though inspiration struck her at just the right monts to craft delicious als.
"Perhaps you've been blessed by the God of Gourt," Lina once teased lightheartedly, dismissing any real belief in such a notion.
Tonight, however, Lina appeared troubled. Despite the savory aroma of the al, her brow remained furrowed as she picked at her food.
"Sothing wrong?" Shoko asked, concerned by her unusual deanor.
"Nothing," Lina replied with a shake of her head. But her unease lingered, prompting her to stand abruptly.
"Listen to ," she said firmly, locking eyes with Shoko. "You need to leave for the night. Go as far away as you can and don't co back until morning!"
....
In a luxurious room lined with thick carpets, Ince Zangwill sat at a desk, holding a feathered pen. His chiseled features were marred by a single blind eye, lending him an eerie air.
With deliberate strokes, he wrote:
"After their address was compromised, Shoko secured a residence for Helene on Rhine Street. What he didn't know was that this house neighbored an Aurora Order safehouse.
"It also happened to be within proximity of Stewart, the Storm Church's Mysticism Magister, who had rented a nearby residence weeks prior.
"When A received divine inspiration, his excitent led to a critical misstep: summoning Irene to the Rhine Street safehouse despite her being under Mandated Punisher surveillance.
"The Mandated Punishers tracked her to the safehouse. anwhile, Tand, The Secret Order's Marionettist, trailed behind them in hopes of reclaiming the Seer pathway's characteristics stolen from his faction.
"Caught in the crossfire, Helene's ho was collateral damage..."
Ince paused, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.
A Witch can resist the tides of fate, but their companions cannot.
As for Stewart, who had disrupted his plans several tis before, Ince mused, It's ti for him to et his end.
After a mont of reflection, Ince resud writing, his quill gliding over the parchnt with fluid strokes.
....
South Bridge District, Moonflower Street.
Klein, wearing a double-breasted tailcoat and holding a silk hat, stepped through the modest entrance of Harvest Church.
The quiet of the prayer hall welcod him, along with familiar faces: the towering figure of Father Utravsky, the red-eyed Emlyn White cleaning a candelabrum with the air of resigned indignation, and the elegantly dressed Miss Hazel with her dark green wavy hair and bright brown eyes.
After exchanging pleasantries with Father Utravsky and a few lighthearted remarks with Emlyn, Klein turned to Hazel.
"Miss, what sort of commission might you have for ?"
Hazel led him to a secluded corner, ensuring the disinterested vampire wasn't eavesdropping. With a hesitant expression, she finally asked, "Detective Moriarty, how familiar are you with... scams?"
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