The next day, Séraphine struggled internally as sleep dulled her senses. She was debating whether to plug her ears or fire several shots into the air from her balcony to avoid the incessant noise of children playing.
Yes, the little ones had started playing in the street very early that morning, and their noise was loud enough to reach her apartment. This made the witch, who was suffering from the aftereffects of using magic the day before, want to take drastic measures.
However, she soon realized that the problem was her hypersensitivity to noise, akin to a hangover. She cleared her mind of those thoughts and lazily got out of bed.
"Another day, another business," Séraphine muttered before going through her morning routine.
Brushing her teeth, bathing, dressing, and breakfast. Wearing a partially buttoned pink shirt and a new pair of dark pants, Séraphine played with the starry crystal that the Inferos had left her the previous day while enjoying toast with strawberry jam.
"It's not corrupt. I exposed it to the power of light, and yet... Why would a being give me a magical object as beneficial as this?" she wondered aloud to quicken her mind.
She knew the capricious nature of these strange beings. She had even looked up information about them the night before, in case her knowledge was biased. Still, she didn't fully understand the Inferos' motives.
Enemy? Probably. They had expressed their desire to harm her. Ally? The magical object in her hand is the perfect display of companionship in another context.
She decided to accept the benefits while keeping her guard up. She would never trust an Inferos, nor would she ever realize the strange connection she had with them or the growing threat to her existence.
The witch still remembered the thought she'd had the day before, which could be considered an oath. She vowed to fight and defeat any enemy who tried to harm her.
However, her attention was drawn to the purple crystal in her hand. She held it up to the sunlight coming through her window. The information she received from touching the crystal surged in her mind, making her smile.
"An object capable of causing partial changes in the user's appearance for a certain amount of time and energy. Something useful for a detective like me, though it has aspects that live up to its origin." When Séraphine said these words, her face warmed slightly. She didn't want to mention the vivid description of one of the Inferos' special uses.
"Will Francisca be able to make any changes? Or at least put it on a necklace?" The witch murmured before finishing her breakfast and putting the crystal away in her hat.
It was time to visit Lady Zhang, an alchemist with whom she shared some common ground. However, the witch was wary of her because she identified her as a dangerous person.
No alchemist was simple. It was always good to keep that in mind.
𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝
Even though it was early in the morning, the place Séraphine went to was quite busy. It was a simple store on a moderately busy, relatively quiet street.
It was hardly different from places that had been operating for a long time and were barely subsisting. However, the constant flow of people coming in and out indicated the rarity of the place.
[Flowing Heart]
It was a strange name for an establishment. Still, the witch ignored it as she moved closer and saw the carefully placed glass display window designed to attract attention, and it certainly was attracting attention.
There were neatly placed potions with delicate labels that only stated their name and no description of their use. Making matters more curious, each bottle had a stamp on its glass: a bleeding heart enveloped in smoke.
Séraphine noticed one potion whose name was written in golden letters, standing out from the rest. She felt a burning desire to buy it, but soon took a breath and cleared her mind.
'Damn alchemists and their formations,' she growled, controlling her mind and peeling her eyes from the attractive potion. She entered the store at last.
The glass door emitted a melodious warning, and in that instant, she felt herself transported to a completely different place. The temperature was quite low, so the witch felt the shock firsthand.
The store was much larger than it appeared from the outside. Rows of shelves were full of potions with descriptions of their effects. No one would dare buy something without knowing what it was for, right?
Many people were looking at and taking some of the bottles, making Séraphine think that she was in a market. Perhaps that was not far from the truth.
However, there was no trace of the weapons she knew Francisca had sold, since the alchemist did not openly expose this business; however, insiders were aware of this matter, making all of Blume aware of the nickname 'Lady Zhang.'
Although her body trembled as she felt the coldness, she controlled herself and looked at the small figure that had approached her. It was a vaguely humanoid figure, whose lower limbs were replaced by a large silver cylinder.
It had hands, a round head, and two rubies for eyes. The machine, something Séraphine already knew, made a delicate salute with its hands, and a stiff voice came from its body.
"Welcome, customer! I'm Salesman Number 3. May I know what you're looking for? I'm here to help you!" If Séraphine hadn't known that it was just an alchemical construct, she might have felt a little dread.
However, the witch was interested in this automaton, a specialty of Francisca's, along with potions and weapons.
"Three, I'm looking for your boss. Could you please notify her that I've arrived? You should recognize me." Séraphine bent down, bringing her face close to the automaton's. The automaton turned her head slightly, as if thinking about the brunette's words.
"Aether signature detected, registered. Face detected. Voice comparison performed. Welcome, Séraphine Rohan! I will tell my creator of your arrival. She will be happy to see you," the cold, stiff voice said. Séraphine hesitated suddenly.
She didn't know why, but she sensed a hint of emotion in its tone, as if the coldness were melting slightly. However, she resisted the urge to activate her Vision, knowing it would be disrespectful.
She just watched the small, cylindrical construct move down the aisles of the store and disappear from her sight. It was going to carry the witch's message to its creator.
"I wish I had one, but they're so expensive," Séraphine muttered, looking enviously at the other automatons tending to customers. Such a sight was rare and could only be enjoyed in the store of a specialized alchemist.
While waiting, she examined the potions and noticed some that looked new, which attracted her attention. She wouldn't buy them, but it never hurt to learn something new, especially in the realm of potions.
"A potion for acne? I wish I had this five years ago," Séraphine commented quietly. A young girl shopping next to her turned around with a smile.
"Did you have acne? You don't look it!" Séraphine leaned in to hear the soft-spoken young woman because she never thought she would see someone like that here.
Not that she was doing anything illegal, but it was unusual to see young people in this store, especially given Francisca's reputation. No one who knew of her existence would let their son or daughter in unsupervised.
That was what intrigued Séraphine: her lack of apparent supervision. With black hair, red eyes, and abnormally pale skin, the girl held a bottle of a crimson potion that matched her perfectly.
"I take great care of myself with excellent beauty products. You, on the other hand, have to worry about that," Séraphine said maliciously. The young woman narrowed her eyes, feeling offended.
"Aha! Looks like you're just a boring old cow. I'm leaving," the young woman replied rudely before walking toward a nearby automaton with the potion in hand.
Séraphine looked at her for a moment, laughed, shook her head, and returned her attention to reading the descriptions of more potions. It was obvious that the girl was hurt and perhaps jealous of the witch's physique, which was why she attacked her.
But the brunette had seen much more terrible things than a simple comment from a hormonal teenager, so this moment was only a slight distraction for Séraphine, who soon dismissed it from her mind.
It was better to concentrate on the effects of the new Burning Wrath potion. That was much more interesting than a girl's tantrum! Séraphine waited until Automaton Number 3 approached her again, interrupting her pleasant reading.
"Séraphine Rohan! My creator is waiting for you. Please follow me." The machine didn't wait for her and simply started moving, causing the witch to run to catch up. Luckily, the machine wasn't moving particularly fast.
"Rude junk," Séraphine complained in a low voice. Perhaps because she had spoken, the automaton turned its head, imitating an owl perfectly, even though its body was still moving forward.
"Sorry, I don't quite understand some human concepts," the construct apologized in its monotonous mechanical voice. But Séraphine again felt that slight difference, that hint of something more than just cold metal, something sentient.
'I have to take a look at it sometime.' Interest and curiosity shone in Séraphine's eyes, as she had a strange feeling that she was close to something transcendent.
As a witch, her area of research was on the more mystical side of the world: the soul, consciousness, and will. Much of her research inevitably revolved around those subjects because of her ability to see and unravel things.
Her vision wasn't only to see things that others did not; it was also to unravel things hidden from human perception. That's why she could see the space between reality and the spiritual world, as well as things like souls.
Of course, she was interested in other subjects as well, but her main focus was, broadly speaking, the "immaterial" side of the world and human beings. The possibility of discovering something more than cold human design in an alchemical machine that guided her made her heart burn with desire to explore its mysteries.
"Are you a new model? The number three I remember was different from you," Séraphine inquired, beginning her investigation.
"Yes, the previous unit was destroyed some time ago, and I was reassigned to this position. Thus, I received its number," the machine replied, turning its head forward again.
"What were you working on before?" the witch asked, wanting to know more.
"I was an assistant to my creator, but my core was transplanted into this body. My old shell was no longer useful for my new duty." The automaton's cold answer made Séraphine's blood run cold.
She had visited Francisca before, but she had never noticed the machine. Had it been watching her without her noticing? The prospect frightened her, so she put aside her interest in the machine and decided to inquire about it later.
After traversing several more hidden areas and corridors deeper into the facility, the Number Three Automaton brought Séraphine in front of a red wooden door with several blue lines carved into it. The lines indicated not only how expensive the door was, but also that it was part of a larger alchemical set.
The machine knocked twice on the door, then backed away, leaving Séraphine in front of it. The door opened on its own, revealing a dimly lit room filled with thick white smoke.
The smoke did not smell unpleasant; it was quite rich, even prompting Séraphine to inhale sharply and feel her mind relax.
"Come in, witch," a female voice sounded from within the room, snapping the brunette out of the brief trance she had fallen into.
Séraphine blinked several times, noting that she had fallen into a vulnerable state without realizing it, which made her raise her guard.
She didn't want to think about it, but she realized she had been careless. Her interest in Automaton Number Three had distracted her from the purpose of her arrival and from Lady Zhang, the person she was supposed to be paying attention to.
As she entered the room and passed the threshold, the lighting changed, becoming much brighter. Séraphine could tell that this was the result of an alchemical array; you could only see the inside of this place once you entered.
The place looked like a laboratory full of machines, discarded objects, and expensive glassware containing unprocessed liquids. The strange distribution of objects was clear: one area was full of incomplete pieces, another was full of firearms, and another was full of bottles of unlabeled potions.
In front of one of the tables stood a woman who was slightly shorter than Séraphine. Dense red hair in complete disarray adorned her back, exposed to the witch.
Her skin was pale, likely due to her lack of exposure to sunlight. Her entire body was barely covered by stained, sooty overalls.
The woman was hunched over, holding a thin, pencil-like tool connected to a black wire in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other, as she checked the casing of a rifle.
Next to her was an incense stick, the source of the scent permeating the place. As Séraphine approached to see what she was doing, the woman, whom the witch knew as Francisca Zhang, turned her head to look at her.
She had a freckled face with fine features that were a perfect blend of Eastern and Western influences. She had a pair of eyes so brown that, at certain angles, they seemed to turn red.
"Do you mind? I don't even have a blouse," she said, drawing Séraphine's attention to Francisca's partially exposed torso.
Because she was wearing only overalls, her modestly sized breasts were completely exposed to the witch's view due to the way her body was curved.
Gravity caused them to hang down, attracting Séraphine's attention to her grazed nipples. Realizing that she had over-observed, Séraphine averted her gaze with some embarrassment.
"Sorry!" the witch apologized, but she only heard a slight smile from Francisca, who went back to concentrating on what she was doing.
"If you ever want to pay me back for the look you gave me, show me your breasts. They're too big," the alchemist replied with a touch of humor, lightening the mood and making Séraphine raise her chest proudly.
"That's debatable, but you'd at least have to bathe. Incense doesn't hide your sweaty scent, you know?"
Although they weren't close friends, they had known each other for six months, and their interaction was much more relaxed than one would expect.
"Hmm, seeing your big tits if I take a bath... seems like a good deal. Just in time; I finished this job," the redhead said in a bouncy tone. She dropped her tools on her workbench and held the rifle she was working on.
It was a long gun with a bolt that indicated its magazine held only six bullets. Séraphine already knew that the alchemist had enchanted the weapon, but she didn't understand the purpose of the enchantment, so she simply admired the result.
"It's mediocre work, but that's what those fools like," Francisca grunted. She looked at the rifle in her hand with some distaste before discarding it on the table again.
"Gangs?" It was a topic she disliked about the redhead because, while Séraphine could do certain things for money, she never dealt with the criminal underworld, let alone gangs.
"Sure, who else would ask for such a banal enchantment directly on the body of a firearm? That's not how it should be enchanted! But they like it that way. It's always the same incantations: explosion and acceleration.
They never bother with important stuff like accuracy or rate of fire. But hey, as long as they pay, right?" It's what you say." Francisca's eyes focused directly on the witch's. With a mocking smile, she pointed at her.
"Look, we had an interesting moment just now, but...what do you want? More silver bullets? I heard what you did in the suburbs." The alchemist's aggressive words revealed that she had been paying attention to Séraphine's actions, including her fight the day before.
Séraphine's mild good humor was suppressed by her more diva-like and haughty nature. Raising her gaze, with one hand on her waist and an arrogant air, she looked at the redhead fearlessly, without a trace of her earlier embarrassment.
"Interesting moments? Well, let's leave it at that. It seems your eyes and ears are everywhere, Lady Zhang," the brunette emphasized the redhead's nickname, causing the tension in the atmosphere to escalate further.
"We have certain differences. I don't like your methods. You feel I'm hypocritical. And I am. Have I denied it? Never! I came for bullets and specific potions. I also want to buy something interesting from your private collection.
Have you heard anything about cultists in town?" Séraphine's words, especially her last question, caused the smile on Francisca's face to stiffen.
The witch in front of her had shown her the ropes before, but she was always on her best behavior around her. Who wouldn't be? She was an alchemist whose influence on the light and dark sides of the world was widespread.
Although they had argued briefly before and exchanged off-color comments, she had never seen her bring out her true fangs until today.
Francisca, who was usually on the advantageous and respected side, now felt differently. She was finally seeing the real witch, which pleased her. It was nothing romantic; alchemy was her only romance. Still, she thought she could gain something today.
A real friend. The alchemist's smile regained its vivacity, expressing her warm feelings this time. She leaned back on the table, gathered a lock of hair covering her eyes, and spoke.