The woman who followed her pursed her thin lips and shook her head, extending her middle finger—the only one without polish—toward the keyhole. As her finger moved with difficulty, the sound of colliding tal ca from within the lock.
But a yellow light shot out from the keyhole, and the sounds from inside the door finally fell silent.
“Damn it. It’s an arcane lock ability...”
The woman retracted her finger with a soft sigh. She stepped back into the swirling snow, looked up at the second-floor window, and confird again that the once-transparent glass had turned black.
The two won retreated together back to the street. At both ends of the main road and down the alley, a distinct wall of fog had appeared, marking the boundaries.
“An arcane lock? How is that possible? Mamie, are you sure? Isn’t Miller only level two?”
the first woman asked in astonishnt, but the woman called Jean shook her head. “This is definitely the mark of an arcane lock. I’ve seen it before... That bastard didn’t investigate thoroughly at all!”
So-called arcane lock abilities were a type of special spatial power that couldn't be learned through rituals; it was sowhat similar to how malevolent spirits sealed off spaces with their spiritual mist. The only way to acquire such an ability was to comprehend the world and delve deep into one's own heart.
An arcane lock was an alternate dinsion attached to the surface of the world. Though it might look identical to the material world, it would, in fact, possess subtle differences born from the user's unique characteristics.
The nature of an arcane lock was influenced by the Benefactor's own soul, body, thoughts, and even habits. Only a Benefactor with exceptionally strong personal traits had a chance of mastering one.
If one in ten thousand Benefactors could eventually reach the level of a demigod, mastering an arcane lock ability was several tis more difficult.
“Don’t be afraid, Jean. An arcane lock isn’t unbeatable. As long as we know the right thod and play along with its the, it can be broken.”
Jean looked back at the door, cut her finger with a small knife, and used her blood to write a two after the equals sign.
Creeak~
The door swung open.
“See? It wasn’t that hard.”
The woman called Jean forced a smile. Just as she was about to step inside, her companion, Mamie, added, “What we need to be careful of is that an arcane lock is more than just a large hunter’s trap. Strange things will happen alongside the normal phenona, depending on what that Miller is thinking. The intel was wrong, but she can’t be higher than level four, right?”
The two won entered the doorway together, but the hall was empty. The only sound ca from a dripping wet umbrella leaning against the shoe rack, a sign that soone had visited just monts before.
The door behind them closed without a sound, but the two won had no ti to spare it a thought. They stared intently at the water droplets on the umbrella, watching as each one slid down the smooth, black fabric. With every drop that hit the floor, their hearts constricted violently.
Jean and Mamie stood together at the entrance. The forr tugged on the latter’s clothes, then pointed at the ground. At so point, the water dripping from the umbrella had ford a puddle on the floor. No matter where they wanted to go in this apartnt building, they would have to step over it.
The thin puddle had been faintly reflecting their distorted faces, but as they watched, a line of text appeared in the reflection:
12×2=
“This is the arcane lock? An arithtic problem?”
Jean asked, not daring to act rashly.
“Possibly... But what’s so hard about arithtic? With enough ti, you can solve anything.”
Despite their caution, a hint of disdain inevitably crept into her thoughts.
Mamie looked at her companion. Jean nodded and took off the small black ladies' hat adorned with fake flowers. With a gentle shake, a black crow flew out.
It was clearly terrified. Instead of flying toward the won, it flapped its wings, trying to get over the puddle.
With a splash, the puddle on the floor stirred like a disguised ooze monster. Slimy, writhing tentacles wrapped around the crow, pulling it into its “body.” Amid the sounds of cracking bones and swallowing, the puddle returned to its original state.
But on closer inspection, one could see a few wisps of blood in the clear, transparent liquid.
“A variant sli, or an ooze monster? It must be so kind of bizarre, exotic creature that has vanished from the material world. I don’t recognize it... But unless you have a specific ability or item to counter it, a Benefactor below level six has absolutely no chance of escape once targeted.”
Mamie explained to her companion, then held up her own umbrella, which was also dripping onto the carpet. “We have no choice but to answer.”
She was reluctant to fall into the arcane lock’s ga, as it ant falling under its master’s control. But the creature before them was clearly sothing the two of them could not handle.
The tip of her umbrella slowly sank into the water. The woman felt an unexpected resistance; the soft-bodied creature clearly disliked having its body penetrated.
The sharp tip of the umbrella viciously carved the number 24 onto the floor.
The umbrella was imdiately withdrawn, and the puddle began to slowly squirm. The umbrella that had been leaning against the wall was swallowed whole before the puddle seeped into the cracks in the floorboards.
“It’s done.”
Mamie nodded at Jean, tossed her umbrella aside, and drew a pistol from her waist.
“The deeper we go into the arcane lock, the closer we get to its master. We have to be careful from now on. Since Miller went to all this trouble to set a trap, she must have more tricks up her sleeve. The difficulty of this arcane lock is too low.”
According to the building’s layout and their preliminary investigation, the door to the left of the hall should belong to the landlord. Following the stairs up, the room on the left would be Miller’s apartnt.
Mamie was the first to step onto the staircase, which let out an exaggerated creak.
The entire apartnt building seed devoid of life; even with their Benefactor abilities, they couldn’t hear a single sound. They climbed the stairs with trepidation. When they reached the landing, they looked up to find their path blocked by a tall mirror at the entrance to the second floor.
The mirror’s fra appeared to be made of ordinary iron. It must have been a dressing mirror moved from sowhere else.
Now familiar with the pattern of Miller’s arcane lock, the two won walked quickly to the mirror. Besides reflecting their own images, the surface displayed another line of text:
1 3 5 7 9 11=
In the reflection, both won had a pocket watch hanging on their chests, sothing that didn’t exist in the real world. The hands of the watch pointed to exactly one o’clock. As the won noticed this, all three hands began to slowly move counter-clockwise.
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