The Oakland rfolk were hostile to humans, a grudge rooted in the wars of ancient history. They considered the vampire race their natural enemy because vampires were the only ones who could kill them in the water. As for the Albax aberration that had just appeared, its favorite al was the Grayrock Ratn. Thinking it over, the initial three choices had been a complete trap.
“A string-pulling marionette, one of the rune folk, and a Desman Immortal. It seems this ti will be quite interesting.”
The three of them heard the common tongue of the Fidektri Kingdom, but the clumsy grammar suggested it was a translation. The man spoke with an arrogance that reminded Jenkins of the young nobles he had t at the balls in Ruen.
Magic Miss’s energy form took a step forward, the runes on her back swirling to form a short sentence. It roughly ant that this was their target, and the two won would handle the situation.
Jenkins was more than happy to stay out of it, so he casually found a table, sat down, and watched as Magic Miss and Silver Flute Miss approached the aberration.
Of course, things wouldn't go so smoothly. The wine glass Silver Flute Miss offered was shattered by a wave of the man’s hand, and he then pointed his fingers at both of their heads.
Magic Miss spat out a string of unfamiliar words at an incredible speed, then launched into a shouting match with the aberration. Jenkins’s knowledge wasn't broad enough to understand their exchange, and judging by the expression on Silver Flute Miss, who was making subtle preparations on the side, she likely had no idea what was being said either.
The conversation spiraled rapidly out of control. Jenkins clutched Chocolate, whose fur felt unusually coarse, and prepared to flee at a mont’s notice.
His worries proved justified. Soon, the two were pushing and shoving, which escalated into a scuffle resembling a street brawl. The formal fight began when the aberration shot a ripple of blue energy from its fingertip.
In her rune folk form, Magic Miss was terrifyingly powerful. It was the first ti Jenkins had ever seen soone conjure a complex ritual directly in mid-air using only energy.
The won were well-prepared. Despite all the unexpected turns they had faced before, this ti they actually succeeded.
Relying on the traps Silver Flute Miss had set beforehand and her “Immortal” aberration traits, the two of them barely managed to restrain their target. Magic Miss then used a small, red-glowing knife to slice open the young man's chest and pull out a heart that seed to be filled with seawater.
anwhile, Silver Flute Miss forcefully poured wine from a goblet into the man's mouth. Once it was all done, the three of them made a hasty escape.
A sense of unreality washed over Jenkins. He had experienced so many Mysterious Realms, but this was the first ti he had ever seen humans gain the upper hand in one.
“To foresee the events in this Mysterious Realm,” Magic Miss gasped, panting in the rain, “we’ve spent nearly a lifeti’s worth of accumulated wealth.”
Her energy body slowly ford a container for the fresh heart. The strange man at the door of the dilapidated house simply watched, indifferent to how the three of them had treated their “guest.”
“Are you curious about this heart?”
“A little.”
Jenkins was being honest. More honest than Chocolate.
“This is a necessary item to lure out the pirate king, Femishue.”
“Oh?”
Jenkins couldn’t connect the two things.
“According to the principle of consuming like for like, his Ocean Heart can evolve by devouring special items related to [Heart] and [Water]. We need to draw him out, so we have to possess sothing that holds an imnse attraction for him.”
Silver Flute Miss offered the explanation. Her elongated face was terrifying, but compared to the power her new body granted, a change in appearance was a trivial matter.
“Co to think of it, I still don’t know why Femishue has been lurking in our city for over half a year.”
“You still don’t know?”
Magic Miss’s tone made it sound as if she had just discovered Jenkins didn’t even know what a steam valve was for.
“Mr. Candle, I thought you were supposed to be omniscient... Femishue’s goal, of course, is the Gear Artisans’ Association’s [chanical Heart]. That madman would do anything to evolve his [Ocean Heart]. Besides, he arrived in Nolan at almost the sa ti as those cultists... Is that really so hard to figure out?”
“[chanical Heart]... [Ocean Heart]...”
Jenkins’s mind was a complete ss.
They had passed the first two trials, though not without so scares. The strange man guarding the door of the dilapidated house still wore a faint smile. Although his body was wreathed in a storm of souls, Jenkins could still make out his peculiar face.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but as the three of them stepped through the doorway for the third ti, the man seed to break into a genuine smile.
The first ti it had been a tavern, the second a cafe. This third ti, they found themselves in a high-end bar lined with bookshelves.
Towering rows of shelves partitioned the interior into narrow aisles. Only the area to the left had a lounge and bar sectioned off by a handso wooden fence. It felt more like a library, though libraries didn’t usually feature an entire wall of liquor.
On the spines of the nearby books, Jenkins could clearly make out titles like *The Dark Bible*, *Pink Magic*, *The Book of the Dead*, and *The Codex of Chaos*.
He hadn't heard of most of the titles, but the ones he recognized were all forbidden books. To use a crude analogy, if even one of these volus was discovered in the ho of a Nolan City citizen, that entire family—including their pets and the mice in their walls—would completely vanish in short order.
Everything had felt normal when he first walked in, but after deciphering so of the titles, a faint whispering began to echo in his ears. It didn't affect him much, but the incessant sound was incredibly irritating.
“Don’t look at the titles.”
His companion warned him, but it was a little too late. Jenkins could only feign ignorance and nod. In truth, he was extrely curious about the contents of *Pink Magic*. After all, among a pile of obviously blasphemous tos, most of which were covered in terrifying, profane text or horrifying unknown symbols, *Pink Magic*, with the portrait of a cute girl on its spine, stood out with a completely different style.
“Welco...”
A hoarse voice drifted from the distance, followed by the distinctive creak of a wheelchair growing ever closer. Erging from the depths of the bar was an old man in a wheelchair, a brown blanket draped over his knees.
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