In Inspector Edward Graves' office, Lionel stood before the inspector. His face was swollen from Jevan's blows. Graves stared at him in silence before finally saying:

"What happened to your face?"

Lionel answered in a tone he tried to keep steady:

"A minor dispute between me and Jevan."

Graves frowned and raised his hand. He muttered a few words, and from his palm extended faint gray transparent chains. They wrapped around Lionel's body, from his shoulders to his ankles. Graves then laced his fingers together over his desk and leaned slightly forward:

"Rule number one: you cannot lie. Everything you say now will be the complete truth, with no twisting or turning."

Lionel closed his eyes and spoke in resignation:

"As soon as I released his restraints, he punched me in the face, then stole the key and bound me with the same shackles. After that, he beat me again until my face turned into what you see before you. Then he released me and let me go."

"And why would he do something like that?"

"I don't know. But he mentioned something about a spirit screaming in his ear, telling him to do it."

"A spirit?"

Lionel shrugged:

"Maybe he lost his mind."

Graves' eyes narrowed before he said:

"Of course he'd lose his mind. Watching your comrades die before your eyes, then being thrown into a dark cell without even being able to grasp what's happening that would drive any man insane."

Lionel didn't reply, so Graves continued:

"Now tell me, why did you lead that group to hunt Valentine Crow without my permission?"

The chains tightened around Lionel's body and glowed with a faint gray light. His face contorted in pain.

"I thought we could kill him..."

"And why do you want him dead?"

Lionel hesitated briefly before answering:

"For Inspector Griffin."

Upon hearing his reply, Graves gestured toward the door:

"You may leave."

The chains vanished from around Lionel, who withdrew from the office. Graves remained in place, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a long sigh. Things were off-plan.

He had been preparing to eliminate Valentine in a single strike.

But the reckless attack by members of the Bloodfang on Valentine, and their failure, delayed his plans indefinitely. Valentine would go into hiding, and finding him again would take a long time.

And in the meantime, Valentine would absorb more of the Authority of Madness and grow stronger. But Graves wasn't thinking only about Valentine.

He was thinking about Jevan. Though their bond hadn't been deep, Graves had felt a certain respect for him perhaps because he saw something of himself in Jevan.

The bitter irony was that both of them had lost the closest people to them at the hands of the same man. But back then, Graves' situation had been much easier than Jevan's now.

From the information he had gathered, the Bloodfang gang had fallen, with all its members slaughtered except for Jevan.

This puzzled him, for Bloodfang had never been an aggressive gang. They had been neutral specializing in gathering information and offering mercenary services, which had been dwindling in recent years. What reason could there be for someone to deliberately annihilate them?

He wished he could help Jevan directly, but his hands were tied. Any misstep would raise suspicions. Even getting Jevan out of the detention center had been a near-impossible move.

But it was better for Jevan to risk his life in the Lower District than to be interrogated by the bureau.

If his connection to Valentine Crow were discovered, he would never see daylight again.

Graves sighed deeply and rubbed his face with his hand.

***

[Jevan Prospective]

I raised my sword and, with a swift motion, struck the man's head with its hilt. He collapsed to the ground. I didn't wait to check his condition; I hoisted him immediately and started running. I needed a place to hide and fortunately, Iris's place wasn't far.

I ran until I reached an old housing complex in a nearly deserted side street. I bounded up the stairs quickly and stopped in front of one of the doors. Placing my hand on the handle, I muttered:

"May the door open."

The door swung open at once, and of course, with it came the familiar stab of a headache at the back of my skull. I entered, dragging the man to a chair in the middle of the room. I tied him tightly, then pulled out the shackles I had taken from the cell and bound his hands. Now all I had to do was wait. But he took far too long to wake up.

After two hours, Raghu voice sounded beside me:

"Did he die?"

I slapped the man hard across the cheek. He gasped and snapped his eyes open in panic.

I gestured to his face with both hands:

"See? Still alive."

He began screaming:

"Where am I?!"

I punched him square in the face, then pressed the blade of my sword to his neck until a drop of blood trailed down.

"I'm the one asking questions here, not you."

"How dare you..."

I didn't let him finish. I hit him again, then ran the sword's edge along his throat and said:

"I didn't give you permission to speak."

He swallowed nervously. I pulled the blade back, wiped the blood on my coat sleeve, and asked:

"Now tell me. Why did you try to kill me?"

"D-Don't you know? You're literally wanted, all over the Lower District."

"Wanted?" I frowned. "What happened? What became of the Bloodfang? Where's Garod?"

"All members of the Bloodfang were killed."

"Killed? How?"

"The Broken Chalice tavern was surrounded. Garod the Iron and the other leaders were caught off guard in a sudden raid. The rest were hunted down afterward."

"And who did this? Why? Tell me!"

"The Claw gang but I don't know the exact reason."

"Aren't you one of them?"

"Yes, but I swear I've never harmed a single member of the Bloodfang in my life!"

I smirked coldly:

"But you did kill me."

He didn't answer, his face pale. But honestly? I wasn't looking for his apology. My mind was elsewhere. All of Bloodfang was dead. My ties with them hadn't been deep I barely knew them, except for Iris and Raven. Yet still, I had felt a sense of belonging.

But there was no time for sentiment. I was already burdened with hundreds of souls screaming in my ear every minute I didn't need more weight.

I stared at the man bound before me. I had gotten what I wanted from him. Now, how to dispose of him? Killing him was logical. He'd tried to kill me first technically, he had already killed me. But I couldn't do it. Because there was the nagging spirit of an old man screaming in my ear, begging mercy for him.

I raised my hand, waved it, and said:

"The old man's spirit tells you to take care of Nila."

His face froze, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but I had already punched him. He went limp instantly. I slung him over my shoulder, carried him outside Iris's apartment, and walked until I found a suitable alley. I propped him against the wall and left him there. Then I rushed back to the apartment, shut the door behind me, and leaned my back against it.

***

[Ash Prospective]

I woke up on the ground in an alley. I touched the back of my head. The last thing I remembered was being taken by that man the Bloodfang member we thought we'd killed. I leaned against the wall and staggered to my feet, my head still spinning.

I remembered his last words before knocking me out: "The old man's spirit tells you to take care of Nila."

How did he know about Nila? How did he even know about the old man? I tried to push back the old memories his words had stirred memories of my childhood in the alleys, when the old man had been the only thing close to family. I shook my head violently, trying to focus.

He said the old man's spirit had asked him to deliver that message to me.

Did he mean it literally? Could he really see spirits? I'd heard of people claiming such abilities, but every one of them had been a fraud.

Was he threatening me? As if saying: "I know who you are. I know who you care about. If you report me, I'll go to her." A threat? Maybe. But it was nothing more than an empty threat. I'd met countless men like him self-proclaimed powerful types. I was an expert at dealing with them.

If he was so powerful, he wouldn't have run in the first place. He wouldn't have taken those stab wounds.

Most likely, he'd simply returned to the Lower District unaware that Bloodfang had fallen. He hadn't killed me to avoid drawing attention. When my comrades came looking for me and found no body, they'd understand.

"I need to report this to the boss."

I ran until I reached the Broken Chalice tavern. I shoved the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. But as soon as I stepped inside, I froze. The stench of iron filled the air blood. Mangled corpses lay everywhere, across smashed tables and strewn across the floor.

Amid the chaos stood a short man in a long black cloak before the bar counter. He held the boss by the neck. With chilling calm, he severed the head from the body. The head dropped to the floor, rolled, and struck the wall.

Then he turned to me. Half his face was hidden under a hood, the other half concealed by a black mask painted with a wide white grin. A raven perched on his shoulder.

I tried to run but in the blink of an eye, he vanished and reappeared behind me. A powerful blow struck the back of my head.

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