Arriving at the cabin door, he gave out the signal. Three knocks, followed by one. Halsey moved immediately, opening the door just as Lars stepped in. The scent of sea salt followed him in, along with something sweeter.
Without ceremony, he handed her a small bundle. "Ate the good stuff already," he said, in a low and casual voice. "I left you the sweets though." A brief pause, then his tone shifted slightly. "Also… got something you'll want to hear."
Halsey took the bundle, already nodding. "Good," she replied. "Because so do I."
She unwrapped it as she spoke, revealing a few neatly packed sweet pies. Her gaze lingered on them for just a second, just long enough to betray a flicker of relief, before she picked one up and took a bite, turning her attention back to Lars without missing a beat.
"Mr. Salem came," she said, matter-of-fact. "He brought me the artifacts originating from the characteristics we sent to teacher."
Halsey continued, chewing as she spoke, multitasking with practiced ease. "He also left a warning." Another bite. "A serious one." Her expression tightened slightly, though it eased a fraction as she swallowed. "About Alain Rouge."
Lars didn't interrupt.
"According to my teacher's divinations," she went on, "there's something wrong with him. Not just dangerous… but unclear." She paused, taking another bite. "The warning wasn't precise, and that's the problem. Even after further attempts, he couldn't extract anything more."
Her grip on the pie tightened slightly. "That alone triggered his intuition."
"He thinks an Angel may be involved."
Lars's breathing hitched slightly.
Lars's eyes flicked towards the bed, glancing upon the artifacts resting upon it. For a moment, something in him pulled. However, he quickly composed himself with one long breath.
"…Yeah," Lars muttered quietly. "That lines up with my part of the news."
Halsey looked up at him.
He shifted his weight slightly, leaning back just enough to appear relaxed.
"I saw something earlier," he said. "Your Mr. Rouge's butler… moving luggage. I took the liberty of popping one open for myself after a little bump on the corridor."
"There was a sword inside."
Halsey stilled slightly.
Lars's tone dropped just a fraction.
"Based on my experiences, my guesses are that it is from the Hunter Pathway," he said.
He rubbed the back of his neck once, thinking as he spoke.
"Not just any level either… From the looks of it, it must be at the level of a Demigod." A faint exhale left him. "The kind of thing you don't mistake once you feel it. The pull alone…" He shook his head slightly. "It reminded me the next path a Hunter should take."
His eyes narrowed just a little.
"I've seen Hunter demigods before," he added. "From a distance. Enough to know the difference." A brief pause. "But an artifact like that… carrying that kind of weight… that close?"
He let out a quiet breath.
"It 's stronger than I expected."
Halsey listened without interrupting, her movements slowing as she finished another bite. By now, the tension in her shoulders had eased, just slightly, each mouthful dulling the edge of her unease.
"…That confirms it, then," she said after a moment.
She lowered the remaining piece of pie, her gaze steady now. "Teacher's and Mr. Salem's warning was on point."
"Someone who can casually carry something like that… doesn't operate alone." A quiet pause. "He has backing. Strong backing. The kind that can provide Demigod-level sealed artifacts without hesitation."
She exhaled softly.
"And if an Angel is truly involved…"
Halsey took the last bite of the pie, brushing her fingers lightly as she swallowed.
"…My teacher doesn't have many options here," she said finally. "Which means we have even fewer. Our best bet is to maintain the status quo, to avoid any unwarranted attention from him."
Lars gave a small, humorless huff. "Yeah," he muttered.
Then he added, almost as an afterthought. "Reporting him won't help either."
Halsey looked at him again.
Lars shrugged slightly, though there was no real ease behind it.
"We're on this ship because of him," he said. "To them, we're his people. You go to Ace Snake with that kind of claim…" He let the thought trail off.
"…we're the ones getting locked up."
Halsey nodded slowly.
Lars stepped closer to the bed, his attention settling on the wrapped artifacts. Without much hesitation, he reached down and picked up the slender dark-green dagger, the faint sheen of its blade catching the dim light. He turned it slowly between his fingers, testing its balance, its weight, feeling it rather than merely observing it.
Behind him, Halsey finished the last bite of her pie and brushed her fingers clean.
Then she spoke.
One by one, she explained the artifacts: what they were, how they worked, and more importantly, what they cost. The Ghostly Mirror, the Moonshine Strike and the Husk. Each ability laid bare, each drawback made clear.
When she finished, she added, almost casually, "As per our division… all three are yours."
Lars didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained on the dagger for a moment longer before he exhaled quietly.
"You can keep the mirror," he said at last, tone even. "Call it compensation for your teacher's work."
He gave the blade a small flick, testing its responsiveness.
"Not my style anyway," he added. "Too… indirect." A faint pause. "And the Prisoner Pathway don't exactly mix well with mine."
He lowered the dagger slightly, glancing at the remaining items.
"I'll take these two. The dagger…" his lips curved faintly, "...I like this one. The other… might still be useful."
Halsey didn't answer right away.
Instead, she studied him.
Then, as if something clicked into place, she began speaking again, this time with sharper precision.
"A Reaper's fire control directly conflicts with the ice properties of both Zombies and Wraiths," she said, her tone shifting into analysis. "If you rely on those abilities, your own flames would disrupt them. Melt them. You'd lose the structural stability required for things like Mirror Traversal."
She stepped slightly closer, gaze focused.
"Worse, it works both ways. Using those cold-based abilities could dampen your fire output, lowering its effectiveness."
Lars didn't interrupt.
"Prisoner Pathway Beyonders also have a clear weakness to fire," she continued. "That alone creates a contradiction. You're naturally resistant to flames, your pathway demands it, but these abilities would introduce vulnerability. Not just to external fire…"
Her eyes flicked briefly to him. "…but to your own."
"That means no more reckless methods. No more self-inflicted ignition to break possession or disrupt enemies. You'd be limiting one of your strongest options."
She folded her arms lightly.
"And then there's the mental aspect. Loss of rationality and instability. That runs directly against a Hunter's need for sharp perception and control."
Lars stared at her for a moment.
Then he let out a low breath, something between a chuckle and a sigh.
"…You don't miss much, do you?"
Halsey didn't react.
Lars shook his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"Sharp eyes. Sharp mind," he said. "Guess that's what makes a Detective, huh?"
Halsey waved it off lightly. "Part of the job."
Lars tilted his head slightly, studying her for a second longer than necessary.
"Careful," he added, tone dipping just enough to hint at something else. "Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you're trying to impress me."
Halsey didn't even blink.
"…Don't push it."
Lars let out a quiet chuckle.
Then he raised the dagger again, tone returning to something more grounded.
"You're not wrong," he admitted. "There's conflict. Plenty of it."
He shifted his grip slightly.
"But that doesn't make them useless."
He gestured faintly toward the mask.
"The Husk's removal condition's not a problem for me. Fire solves that." A small shrug. "I can switch it on and off myself very quickly. I just have to endure some lingering side-effects later, but nothing a bottle of booze can't handle"
His gaze hardened slightly.
"And durability? That's something I don't have enough of. Reapers hit hard, move fast… but we're not exactly built to take hits."
He tapped the dagger lightly against his palm.
"This covers that gap."
"And this…" he lifted the Moonshine Strike slightly, "...the side effects don't mean much."
His smirk returned, faint but real.
"My whole style's already a mess of controlled chaos. 'Drunken Reaper,' remember?"
He gave a quiet huff.
"Fighting in a frenzy's not exactly new to me."
Halsey stared at him for a second.
Then scoffed, turning slightly away as she reached for a cloth.
"I'm more interested in your abilities than your personality," she said flatly. "So spare me the commentary."
Lars grinned.
However, his fingers paused mid-motion on the dagger.
Something shifted.
Footsteps, many of them, came from outside in a coordinated manner.
His expression hardened slightly as he turned his head toward the door. "We've got company," he said under his breath, voice low but certain. "More than a few."
Halsey reacted instantly, her posture straightening.
The door slammed open.
Several Mandated Punishers stormed inside without hesitation, their presence filling the cabin in an instant. Their movements were sharp and practiced with no room for delay.
"Don't move!"
"You're both under arrest!"
The accusations came fast, leaving no space to respond. Before either of them could react properly, the officials were already moving. Hands swept across the room, seizing the artifacts from the bed with precision. The dagger, the mask and the locket, confiscated in seconds.
Lars's gaze flickered once toward the weapons, then steadied.
He exhaled slowly and didn't resist.
Halsey, however, held her ground just enough to speak. "On what grounds?" she asked, her voice controlled despite the sudden turn.
They were turned, restrained, and pushed out into the corridor.
That was when Halsey saw.
Alain Rouge being escorted just like them, his butler at his side, both surrounded by Mandated Punishers in an arrest.
One of the officials spoke as they moved. "Suspicion of involvement in a conspiracy with a dangerous individual."
Halsey's eyes lingered briefly on Alain. He looked concerned, just enough to be believable. But it didn't reach his eyes fully. It was measured, restrained, like a performance kept under control.
Her confusion surfaced for only a moment before she forced it down.
They were pushed forward.
As they moved along the corridor, another figure came into view, the same brown-blond-haired man they had noticed days ago when boarding. He stood outside his cabin, keys fumbling slightly in his hands as he froze at the sight of the escorted group.
A Mandated Punisher snapped at him immediately. "Go inside and stay in your quarters."
The man flinched, quickly unlocking the door, nearly dropping the keys in the process. Yet as he stepped inside, his gaze lingered on Halsey, on Lars, and finally on Alain.
Watching. Then the door shut.
The group continued forward.
Halsey's thoughts stirred, sharp and quick. That was too suddenly convenient. Does he have something to do with this? Lars, beside her, remained silent, but the slight tightening of his jaw told her he was thinking the same.
They reached the end of the corridor and were ushered into a large office.
The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.
It was heavy and oppressive, as if the air itself weighed down on their bodies.
At the center stood Ace Snake.
Thunder rolled faintly outside the ship, answering his presence.
Halsey felt her breath catch. Lars's posture stiffened despite himself. Even Alain and his butler showed the faintest signs of strain under that overwhelming authority.
The confiscated artifacts were placed onto a nearby table as the Mandated Punishers stepped back into formation, saluting in silence.
Ace Snake's gaze swept over them slowly.
"You board my ship," he said, his voice cold and controlled, "carrying things you should not possess…"
"And expect to leave unnoticed."
The weight of his words pressed down on the room.
"You will explain yourselves."
…
Back in the cabin, the atmosphere shifted once more.
The light dimmed, not naturally, but as if something was suppressing it. Shadows thickened, gathering in the corners until they coalesced into a small, indistinct figure.
It resembled a cat, but not quite.
Its body flickered like an unstable shadow, its form neither fully solid nor entirely ethereal. Large, luminous eyes opened and closed in slow, deliberate slits as it scanned the room.
It was searching.
It moved silently toward Halsey's bag and opened it with ease, rummaging briefly before finding what it sought, the case containing the Moon Card.
It reached for it…and froze.
Its form flickered violently, like a startled animal sensing something far worse than itself. Slowly, it turned its head.
The darkness deepened even more, as if all light had been hollowed out from the cabin. Something was there. It was not fully visible, yet undeniably present. Even the creature, with its unnatural senses, couldn't properly perceive it. What little it could see was only a faint outline, a distortion pressed against the void, something that shouldn't have been there at all, phasing through what seemed to be the wall.
It didn't hesitate. Its form flickered violently before vanishing outright, fleeing in an instant without so much as a sound, through an unknown manner
The darkness remained, folding back into itself, with the room staying still, as if nothing had happened. And from where the distortion had been, a figure stepped forward.
It was Jack. Or better yet, his marionette Charlie.
The marionette's form moved naturally as he fully manifested. At the moment of the arrest, only his marionettes, Erynos and Charlie, had been taken. He himself had later on switched places, maintaining control through distortion without drawing attention.
He glanced briefly toward where the creature had been, a small smile forming on his lips.
"…Seems some people have more pieces on the board than expected."
His gaze shifted to the bag, towards the card.
He stepped forward and picked it up, turning it lightly in his hand.
The image on the surface on the card shone faintly, quiet and unassuming.
Charlie's smile deepened just slightly.
"…Right on cue."
He straightened himself, as his eyes sharpened.
"It's time," he murmured softly.
"…for the final act."
…
Back in the office, Alain Rouge was forced into a chair, his composure visibly strained under the oppressive presence before him. He drew in a steadying breath, attempting to maintain his usual calm. "I'm just a businessman…" he began, but the words were cut short immediately.
"Enough." The interruption was sharp and decisive. Ace Snake regarded him with cold certainty. "You will not insult me with that. I know you are a Beyonder."
Alain caught his own breath. The weight of that gaze pressed down harder, and when thunder rolled outside, it felt less like coincidence and more like confirmation. His shoulders trembled slightly before he relented. "…Yes. I am an Astronomer of the Savant Pathway" He forced the words out, regaining some semblance of control. "And I am a businessman. That part is still true."
Ace Snake did not acknowledge the latter. "Why are you aboard this ship?"
Alain hesitated, then answered with uneven honesty. "An order from my superior. I was to transport artifacts to Bayam and deliver them to a contact." When pressed further, he added, "The organization I work with is the 'School of Truth'. As for my superior… I don't know who they are. I've never met them. Transactions are handled discreetly… more like 'under-the-table'. You don't see who you're dealing with. You just complete the exchange." His voice lowered slightly. "Sometimes I supply artifacts, sometimes I smuggle them. At the end of the day, that's all I am to them. An expendable asset."
Behind him, Halsey and Lars remained silent, heads lowered just enough to avoid attention, though both listened intently. Ace Snake's gaze lingered for a moment before shifting. "And the two behind you?"
Alain didn't turn. "They are beyonders I met along the way. Useful assets, to an extent."
The answer hung in the air, too convenient to be fully convincing. Ace Snake's expression didn't change, but just as he seemed ready to continue, the atmosphere shifted.
Thunder crashed again, louder than before. This time, it was followed by something else.
Laughter.
Layered beneath it were ragged, tearing screams that seemed to seep into the room itself. The sound didn't merely reach their ears, it pressed into their minds, dragging at their thoughts, leaving behind a sharp, piercing ache. Halsey's composure faltered for an instant. Lars's instincts flared, his jaw tightening. Alain's face was drained of color.
Ace Snake remained still for only a brief moment before his gaze snapped back to Alain, sharper now, colder.
"…That remains to be concluded."
Another crack of thunder followed immediately, forceful enough to drown out the lingering echoes of madness. Without another word, Ace Snake turned and strode out of the office, the door bursting open as fierce winds rushed in from behind him as he left. His voice rang out from the corridor, issuing rapid, commanding orders as the storm outside seemed to answer in kind.
Inside, silence returned, but not relief.
Halsey, Lars, Alain, and Charlie remained restrained where they sat, watched closely by the Mandated Punishers who showed no sign of easing their vigilance. The pressure in the room had not lifted; it had merely shifted, settling into something quieter, yet far more dangerous.