"I need you to earn the Nighthawks' trust. The moment they take any action against the Aurora Order, you report to me in advance."
Bernadette rapped on the table. "Now do you understand why I specifically wanted someone from the Sleepless Pathway?"
Leonard was frozen solid.
One part of him was absolutely certain he'd misheard. Another part was convinced the world itself had made a mistake.
Because: he, Leonard, had been sent by the Evernight Church to infiltrate the dangerous Aurora Order undercover — specifically to discover what dangerous plan they were cooking up in Backlund.
And now the Aurora Order was asking him to go infiltrate the Evernight Church and spy for them.
…What is even happening right now.
"You don't want to?" Bernadette raised her voice slightly, expression turning stern.
"No! Of course I want to!"
Leonard said quickly. "I just… I wasn't quite ready for it."
He hesitated. "And I'm worried I won't do it well enough. What if I'm found out and blow the whole operation? That would be terrible."
"Oh, don't worry about that."
The smile Bernadette gave him looked practically demonic from where he was standing. "After all — you don't actually know anything."
"..."
Leonard left with a stomach full of unanswered questions. Vincent laughed under his breath. "I knew that would work."
Sure enough — the Dark Box potion had started digesting. Not by much, but it was moving. Which confirmed the direction was right.
"What's next?"
But Bernadette didn't sound optimistic. "Are we really going to keep using the Aurora Order emissary, Princess Loen's 'boyfriend,' Prosecutor, and Element Dawn leader as our 'authority positions' for these rigged-posting games?"
"What's your thinking?"
"I think… the potion might actually be digested through the cooperation with the Demoness Sect. Multi-party collusion is itself a form of dark-box manoeuvring."
"That makes sense."
Vincent agreed, already turning things over rapidly: using rigged-job-posting-style dark-box operations as a roleplay method actually had remarkable potential in the world of Lord of the Mysteries.
For instance — recommending the chronic slacker Fors and the five-foot Xio into the Tarot Club. Was that not a form of rigged posting?
Or: the Evernight Goddess, who had personally invested in, cultivated, and to some extent steered Klein — step by step shaping him into what She envisioned for the Lord of the Mysteries. Was that not the grandest rigged posting of all?
After all, She'd had the ideal candidate specification in mind from the start: a fellow transmigrator, someone naturally bound to the Grey Fog, someone easy to keep in line, someone grateful and loyal, someone willing to work under Her before achieving power, and willing to cooperate with Her after.
And honestly, from Adam's perspective, the same reasoning applied. He'd have been equally happy to see Klein become the Fool — because in the later conflict between Amon and Klein, Adam sided with Amon, sort of. He'd given Amon a chance out of a kind of paternal feeling, but Amon had disappointed him.
(And if we're talking about the grandest rigged posting of all — that would have to be Lumian from Circle of Inevitability.)
Still, knowing all that was one thing. How exactly to leverage it to digest the Dark Box potion — that was what needed working out.
Try Fors and Xio first.
Last time, he'd already told Fors the Fool's three-part Honorific Name. He wasn't sure whether, in this diverged timeline, she'd still wait for her breaking point before finally reciting it as she had in the original.
...
Bridge South District, Rose Street. Klein stepped off a cab in front of a small, narrow church.
Given the midday hour and the already-remote location, the church had essentially no one around it. Klein looked up at the icon of the Earth Mother hung above the entrance, and walked inside.
"You're not coming?" he asked, glancing back at the carriage.
Inside sat Sherman. This was her recommendation, after all, so he'd asked her along.
"No thanks," she said quietly. "I've been in once before. That bishop — there's something off about him. Something dangerous. Just… don't take too long."
"Mm."
He still had a Tarot Club meeting this afternoon. He wasn't about to let that run over.
He stepped into the main hall. Pews arranged in neat rows. A large life-symbol of the Mother at the front. Candles burning along both sides. In the front row sat a tall, broad man in a brown cassock — probably in his late forties or early fifties. He wore a bishop's mitre and had pale, sparse eyebrows. He sat with his eyes closed, both hands clasped and pressed to his chin, as though in the most devout prayer.
He seemed to hear Klein's footsteps. He opened his eyes, turned his head. "What can I do for you, miss?"
Klein walked to a pew two rows back and sat, sending a reverent gaze up toward the icon. "What else do you come to church for, if not to pray to the Mother?"
"No." The man shook his head. "I can tell when someone isn't one of the Mother's faithful." He tilted his head and smiled slightly. "Though of course, the Mother's house turns no one away. If you'd like, I'm happy to share the teachings."
"You're Bishop Utrafsky?"
"I prefer 'Father,'" he answered pleasantly. "Father Utrafsky."
"Of course, Father." Klein adapted easily. "I'm more than willing to believe in the gracious, great Mother — and to hear Her teachings. But before that, I have something I'd like to ask you."
"Please, go ahead."
"I have a friend who was badly injured in a fight with a Beyonder. Both legs were cleanly severed — but they've been preserved. I've heard you have healing abilities, Father, and I was wondering whether a case like this could be treated."
Father Utrafsky blinked, then nodded. "I see. Excuse me a moment — I need to ask about this."
He stood and walked toward the basement stairs. It was only then that Klein fully registered the man's height.
He's definitely got some giant blood in him. Could a person like that be a vampire? Doesn't seem likely.
From below, an incensed voice erupted: "You — you are absolutely INSUFFERABLE. You keep me locked up here, and you expect me to just act as your free healing service on top of it?! You drag in patients whenever you feel like it and dump them on me! What exactly do you take me for?! I am of the NOBLE SANGUINE! I am not your free healthcare clinic! Use me whenever you like, shelve me whenever you're done, and leave me to ROT down here! I would rather die than comply!!!"
"HEY! You out there! PLEASE get me away from this man! I'll heal your friend — I guarantee it! Just get me OUT of here!"
Klein: This is… not quite how I imagined this going.
So the church did have a Sanguine. But not as the bishop — as his prisoner, locked in the basement.
Hadn't Sherman said the Sanguine were not to be trifled with?
This bishop has not only imprisoned one, but seems completely unbothered about anyone finding out. Isn't he worried about the Sanguine's clan coming for him?
Heavy footsteps came back up the stairs. Father Utrafsky returned, calm as ever. Seeing the question on Klein's face, he said gently: "A Sanguine who wandered into the church by mistake…"
From below: "SANGUINE! Say SANGUINE! You keep calling us vampires and I HATE it!"
To be continued…
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