Night had fallen over Vulcan Town. A circle of policemen stood gathered outside the station, their faces tense and uneasy as they stared at the corpse lying face-down on the ground. The gate officer who’d first encountered the body was recounting the terrifying scene in vivid, trembling detail, while an air of quiet dread began to ripple through the crowd.

  Far down the street, at a corner well beyond the police station’s sight, Dorothy stood in the shadows, silently observing the distant commotion. After a few moments, she turned and melted back into the night.

  Everything was in pce.

  Now, all that remained… was to wait for each party to py their role.

  From the letter she had taken from Edrick, Dorothy had learned how the mysterious organization he served communicated with its agents in Vulcan. According to the instructions, once Edrick had successfully captured her, all he needed to do was pce a photo of Dorothy into the mailbox at No. 24, North Street. That would signal the hidden agent stationed in Vulcan to meet him in the western woods the following night for the exchange.

  There, they would trade—

  Dorothy, handed over to the organization…

  And Edrick, rewarded with the so-called “something that will propel you a great leap forward in the extraordinary.”

  But Edrick was dead.

  And no one knew that—except Dorothy.

  Not even the locals had noticed the death of their infamous town thug.

  Let alone the mysterious outsiders the organization had deployed here.

  Using that blind spot, Dorothy—once the intended kidnap victim—had taken a photograph of herself and mailed it to the designated drop-off herself.

  Once the agent received the photo, they would assume Edrick had succeeded.

  And the agent would arrive at the designated pce, at the designated time, expecting a routine handoff.

  To ensure everything was airtight, Dorothy had spent the entire day wandering through Vulcan, listening, asking discreet questions about Edrick. She made sure no one had caught wind of his demise. She even verified the photography studio’s background to make sure it wasn’t secretly connected to the organization.

  The shop had been open for nearly ten years—long before the mysterious group had made contact with Edrick. It was safe.

  And to be extra cautious, Dorothy hadn’t mailed the letter herself. She had someone else deliver it on her behalf.

  Every step she took was calcuted, cautious, and meticulous.

  Once the photograph was retrieved from the mailbox, the organization’s operative hiding in Vulcan would be forced out into the open, appearing at the “transaction site” in the forest the following night.

  But that didn’t mean Dorothy pnned to face them head-on.

  She didn’t know how many of them there were, or what kind of “extraordinary abilities” they might possess. Even with her two corpse puppets and a few makeshift traps, it would be far too dangerous for a thirteen-year-old girl to take them on alone.

  No—this was a job for professionals.

  Dorothy remembered something from Edrick’s letters. He had repeatedly mentioned two names—two groups he and the organization clearly regarded as threats:

  The Serenity Bureau, and The Church.

  The tone in the letters had made it clear: the organization was wary of both.

  Possibly even at odds with them.

  And so Dorothy had made a choice:

  “The enemy of my enemy… is my friend.”

  If this mysterious group feared the Bureau and the Church, then she could use that fear. Leak them information. Turn wolves on wolves.

  Between the two, Dorothy chose the Serenity Bureau.

  Why? Because according to Edrick’s letters, there were supposed to be hunter squads from the Bureau operating in the Vulcan area. That meant proximity—and opportunity.

  The only problem was… Dorothy had never heard of this “Serenity Bureau” before.

  Not in her life.

  She didn’t know how to contact them. She didn’t even know if they were real.

  Still, the name alone made her guess: it had to be a government agency, some official department responsible for dealing with extraordinary or supernatural events.

  And if that were the case, then she had options.

  If she couldn’t reach the Bureau directly, other government departments might be able to.

  So, she devised a pn.

  Dorothy forged a reply—a fake letter from the mysterious organization addressed to Edrick. She included every critical detail, every piece of bait.

  And then, she had one of her corpse puppets carry the letter… and die right outside the police station.

  Dorothy only needed to wait now.

  Wait for Vulcan’s police to pass the corpse’s message to the Serenity Bureau, and for their so-called Hunter Squad to discover the letter on the corpse’s body.

  “All that’s left now… is to wait for tomorrow night,”

  Dorothy murmured to herself as she walked along the empty street, gazing up at the bright, silver moon overhead.

  “But before that, there’s just a little more to prepare…”

  She quickened her pace, her figure soon swallowed by the darkness.

  Tomorrow night’s grand performance—she had no intention of being a mere spectator.

  . . . . .

  Night deepened.

  The lights along Vulcan’s streets grew fewer and dimmer. One by one, windows went dark, and soon the only glow came from the scattered streetmps, flickering faintly beneath the weight of a thickening night.

  But the Vulcan Town Police Station still glowed with light.

  Unlike before, however, not a single officer remained outside the entrance.

  A cold, lifeless corpse y sprawled across the stone pavement, its twisted, eerie smile frozen in pce.

  And standing beside the body now… were two figures.

  Not policemen.

  In the biting night wind, two uniformed individuals stood before the station.

  Both were cd in the same attire: double-breasted bck formal suits, tightly fitted, the colrs high and stiff. The coat hems reached to their knees. Bck gloves covered their hands.

  Each wore a low, bck bowler hat—and beneath those hats, expressionless iron masks hid their faces. No ughter. No tears. Just still, lifeless metal.

  Several more simirly dressed individuals were gathered around the corpse, examining it in silence, methodically.

  Inside the station, the usual bustle of police officers had vanished.

  In the chief’s office, someone now sat in the seat that once belonged to the police chief.

  This man wore the exact same uniform as those outside. His boots were propped casually on the chief’s desk. His mask had been discarded—tossed atop a nearby cabinet. A hat was pulled down over his face.

  He looked like he was… taking a nap.

  On the other side of the room, another figure stood in front of a rge map of Vulcan pinned to the wall. She, too, wore the same bck uniform—but the tailored cut of her jacket made her feminine figure—especially her chest and waist—clearly visible.

  She was a woman.

  The bck-cd woman studied the map, occasionally flipping through files pulled from the station’s archive. She looked like she was piecing something together, analyzing.

  Suddenly, as if discovering a new clue, she turned toward her lounging colleague.

  “Hey, Gregor, I think I found—”

  But the moment she saw his posture, she paused—then snapped at him sharply:

  “Captain Gregor! We’re on duty!”

  Startled by her sudden volume, the man jolted upright in his chair.

  His entire body tensed, and the hat that had been covering his face tumbled to the floor.

  “Ugh… Elena, quiet down, will you? We’re working, aren’t we…” he muttered groggily, swinging his legs off the desk and stooping to retrieve his fallen hat.

  Now clearly visible in the light, Gregor was a young man.

  Short chestnut hair, brown eyes, sharp features—handsome.

  Even with the weariness clouding his expression, there was no mistaking the steel determination that rested between his brows.

  “At least you remember we're working. I thought you were about to doze off completely!”

  Elena said with exasperation as she walked up to the desk, still wearing her mask.

  Gregor scratched his head, clearly a little embarrassed.

  “Hey, can’t bme me for this… We were supposed to head back to Igwynt tomorrow, remember? Then this case pops up out of nowhere. Of course I’m in a bad mood. I’ve got important things waiting for me back home…”

  He sighed as he compined.

  Elena paused for a second, then replied, her tone softening just a bit.

  “Right… I almost forgot. Your little sister should be arriving in Igwynt soon, isn’t she? If you’re not there, no one else will be to meet her…”

  Zaztra_Vandesh