Angel clicked her tongue inwardly, surprised that this great pirate the Tarot Club had been monitoring had died so inexplicably at a bodyguard's hands—nothing like the "close to high-sequence" description the Hanged Man had provided.
And doesn't he have that "Shepherd" ability sealed artifact called "Creeping Hunger"?
She flipped back to the front page of the Tingen Daily and reread the report word by word, but found nothing new.
However, thinking it over, the report stated Qilingos had failed in his assassination attempt at Duke Negan's banquet last night and died. For it to appear on the front page of a local newspaper over a hundred kilometers away this morning meant the time available to verify the information and conduct follow-up interviews was extremely limited. The entire story might have been transmitted via telegraph between the two cities.
Such hastily produced reporting inevitably contained errors and omissions. When a Beyonder approaching high-sequence attacked a kingdom's top nobility, it would certainly draw police attention and the intervention of official organizations like the Nighthawks. Once they sealed off information, even these news reports might not be trustworthy.
Perhaps the "Hurricane Lieutenant General" hadn't simply died at the hands of "the Duke's bodyguard" as the newspaper claimed. Maybe official Beyonders had intervened, or even Mr. Fool's high-sequence devotee!
Angel decided to ask the Hanged Man and Miss Justice at next week's Tarot Club meeting—especially the latter. Living in Backlund with access to information and having previously hired a detective to investigate Qilingos, she should know something about the inside story.
Having decided this, she stopped reading the useless newspaper and began chatting intermittently with Rozanne.
In the afternoon, Angel and Klein went separately to Tingen's outskirts as usual, checking the locations Klein had divined based on the "dark red chimney" houses investigated by the Jules Detective Agency.
As expected, they found nothing.
Including locations within the city, they had already explored over a thousand buildings with dark red chimneys. At this rate, by mid-September they could confirm all similar buildings around Tingen. Even if their luck was so bad that the target was the last one, they would find it by then.
Folding up the building list covered with X marks, Angel shifted her gaze to the scenery outside the carriage window, adjusting her eye focus to give her aching eyes some rest.
The hired carriage was currently passing through Red Moon Street in the North District. Once they rounded the park square, they would return to the Blackthorn Security Company on Zotland Street. This park, which had been under heavy construction some time ago, had now removed its work sheds and scaffolding. The construction debris piled along the roadside had also been cleared away, making the renovated park look brand new.
The new park was not only half again as large as before, but also featured a park square with a spacious stage, pavilions for audience members, and even the luxury of running water and tree-lined walkways. Compared to this, the pre-renovation park had looked like a wild lawn.
Workers were already decorating the venue beside the stage. From the hanging banners, one could see this was preparation for a speech by Council Member Maynard, who had presided over the park's construction.
Recalling the recent intensive news coverage, Angel knew this New Party leader in Tingen was about to run for mayor. Clearly, bringing in investment to renovate the North District park and giving a speech at the opening ceremony were all part of a political show to build momentum for the election.
But regardless, having the park renovated was still good for nearby residents.
If only the West District had a park like this...
Angel sighed regretfully. Even if it was political theater, these council members wouldn't target ordinary people in the West or South Districts. The North District and Golden Sycamore District, where the wealthy lived, were their real base.
The hired carriage rounded the corner, and the buildings reappearing by the window blocked the setting sun and the park from view.
Entering the living room, closing and locking the door, Angel hung her coat on the nearby rack. Without even turning on the lights, she pushed open the study door, lifted the trapdoor in the floor, and descended into the smoke-filled basement.
It was now evening. Since she had left this morning, the furnace in the basement had been burning for a full twelve hours. In the large pot over the fire, the viscous medicinal liquid had almost completely dried. A short staff about twenty centimeters long, its surface charred black, lay in the pot emitting wisps of smoke.
Extinguishing the fire and removing the solid sandalwood staff from the pot, wiping the medicinal residue from its surface, Angel immediately felt faint spirituality emanating from it, coiling around the scalding staff in her hand.
This was a wand she had crafted using medicinal liquid containing her own blood—a wand belonging specifically to her as a Witch.
Using this wand that had a mystical connection to herself, a Witch could not only perform wand divination to conveniently locate targets, but also, at a critical moment in battle, have it take a fatal blow in her place.
Unlike the mirror substitute that could only escape from the original location, even if injured at the instant of using the wand substitute, those injuries would transfer to the wand. Compared even to a Magician's "paper figurine substitute," it was in no way inferior.
However, wands were complex to make. To brew this one, Angel had been dizzy all day from blood loss. Making another would require at least ten days to half a month.
Even carrying just this one was quite inconvenient. After thinking it over, she decided to bind the wand together with her dagger sheath. This way it wouldn't create a strange bulge under her coat that would draw curious glances.
After cleaning the remaining dark red medicinal residue from the large pot and tidying the furnace, Angel cleared the table surface. She took out various materials purchased from the underground market at the Evil Dragon Bar after returning from Morse Town on Tuesday, laid out the revolver and ammunition she had collected today, and prepared to make new special bullets—Radiance Bullets.
Unlike Storm Gathering and Flaming Phosphorus Spray bullets, Radiance Bullets were far more difficult to make and required more materials. They also demanded very high spirituality from the maker.
If she hadn't already advanced to Witch and tested to find that her spirituality was higher than expected, even knowing the production process and having the materials, she wouldn't be able to make "Radiance Bullets."
She disassembled the large-caliber pistol cartridges one by one into bullet heads, casings, and gunpowder. After initially processing the casings through soaking and applying base materials, Angel picked up an engraving knife and began carving complex, dense charms on the first casing.
"Tss—"
A soft sound rang out as the knife tip scraped across the smooth casing surface, leaving a deep etched mark.
This was the last line of the charm.
Looking at the five completed casings on the table and the many more ruined ones beside them, Angel rotated her somewhat sore wrist and closed her eyes briefly to rest.
These casings were merely practice pieces. She hadn't expended spirituality on them or used any spirituality-rich materials. This way, even if she accidentally ruined a casing, she would only waste an ordinary pistol cartridge.
From initial repeated failures to just now successfully engraving three in a row, she now had the confidence to make a real "Radiance Bullet."
Taking a deep breath, Angel picked up the engraving knife again, using it as a ritual dagger to create a wall of spirituality surrounding the worktable and chair. Then she took out the "Solar Flame Charm" Klein had given her.
This charm containing powerful force would be the core material for making her special ammunition.
Before this, through magic mirror divination, Angel had confirmed that the charm's power truly came from the "mutated solar holy emblem."
Now, she would use a similar method to draw out the power sealed in the charm and make it into ammunition.
She would only have one chance. If any error occurred during production, even a moment's pause would cause failure and waste this precious charm.
She believed that if she failed this time, there wouldn't be another opportunity in the near future.
Inside the wall of spirituality, she arranged candles representing herself and the Evernight Goddess, lit them with spirituality, and established a connection through essential oils. Then Angel closed her eyes and chanted the prayer:
"Evernight Goddess, higher than the stars and more eternal than eternity...
"Grant me the power to complete this extraordinary item."
As the incantation ended, Angel saw the candlelight before her flicker slightly, as if an invisible object had passed by. The candlelight reflected in the engraving knife seemed to dim.
"Praise the Goddess."
She murmured, raised the knife, and stabbed it fiercely down toward the "Solar Flame Charm" on the table.