"Dorian L Gray, nineteen years old, Miska Academy Class of 2021 preparatory student, and also the youngest reserve operative in the Executive Department's history. Your combat sequence still remains on headquarters' dormant list.
If not for the major incident you caused in last year's 'Empire's Fall' event, you should be at the academy right now, smoothly collecting your first year's scholarship."
Cole Rutledge gazed through layers of rain at the endless night sky, apparently knowing L's past inside and out.
"But that's not important. What matters is that after that top-secret operation, another Gray family member inherited their ancestor's name and became an existence beyond reason, unable to die."
If Mayeck were standing before them right now, he'd probably feel ashamed of his arrogance from ten minutes ago.
Because any human or creature in the Hidden World should deeply understand what this illustrious surname means.
As the underground rulers of the Western Hidden World, the Secret Party has existed for over a century since its formation. If hunters with ancient traditions were the foundation stones for establishing the Secret Party, then the Gray family was the true core supporting this glory.
Historically, the famous writer Wilde borrowed the name of the first Gray to create masterpieces that spread throughout the world.
And his successor, Lionheart Ryan, used a war that changed the Hidden World's landscape to defeat the undead beings led by the founding families, signing the Pista Convention of peaceful coexistence and mutual non-interference, ending their thousand-year conflict.
This honor alone was enough to establish the Grays' unshakeable position.
And their well-deserved title: "Emperor of the Hidden World Rome."
"Sounds like you want to convince me to return to the academy." L said calmly.
"As one of the heaven-blessed twins, you should be at the academy receiving the best education alongside your sister, becoming the Secret Party's blade."
After a long pause, Cole sighed softly.
"But you chose to wander around America like some cowboy... Are you looking for someone?"
"Searching for evidence with suspicion often only distorts the facts themselves." L was noncommittal, avoiding the topic. "But this should only be one of your purposes, right?"
"The Secret Party is an organization loyal to normalcy. We don't favor humans or monsters, and we don't get involved in politics. All our actions are solely to maintain the balance between the surface and hidden worlds."
The old man chose his words carefully as he spoke.
"Personally, I think very highly of your potential. Since you entered the country, I've been watching you. Whether it's vampires, werewolves, or tricky chimeras, you handle them all excellently, but your methods are perhaps too... extreme."
"You mean that black wizard I hung upside down and burned to death on top of the Empire State Building two months ago?"
L answered casually, as if discussing something trivial: "He tortured and killed six children under ten years old trying some cursed ritual. I think my handling was still too conservative."
Behind Cole, his secretary's hard facial features twitched almost imperceptibly.
He had personally intervened to handle this matter. NYPD even launched a citywide manhunt, finally ending with the destruction of two major local gang organizations and the resignation of then-New York Mayor Isaac Dalton in disgrace.
Because that black wizard was also a gang hitman, police classified the child torture case and L's "corpse burning case" as gang retaliation, leading the gang leaders who wouldn't acknowledge each other and the authorities into a three-way firefight...
But that wasn't the point. The point was that the minister was actually hinting at the small werewolf clan L had wiped out last month.
This made local headlines the next day with terrible impact. The FBI even suspected some cult organization had infiltrated American soil.
"If I hadn't met you personally, what you just said would be enough for me to put you on the watch list."
Cole chuckled, but his dim pupils suddenly revealed a hint of sharpness.
"Cold, efficient, sharp—these are monster qualities rather than human virtues. As a First Order Gold alchemist, you've only just stepped onto the Truth Path. I don't know what price you paid, but I know very well that so-called equivalent exchange was never equal trading. The line between human and beast often blurs in killing."
"You're worried I'll start enjoying that feeling and lose control?"
L naturally understood what the other meant. This was one of the curses borne by becoming alchemists and wizards.
"But a child who feels sadness for the weak won't become that kind of monster," Cole said quietly. "At least not now."
"For humans, desire is forbidden fruit. The pursuit of fruit is the essence of evil, which is why it was written into the Bible as taboo. Ironically, the two major paths exclusive to humans—Truth and Blood Source—are essentially processes of realizing desires. No one can guarantee they won't mutate and lose control. In this regard... we're no different from them."
The rainwater shattered against the floor-to-ceiling windows reflected L's face—flesh and blood with all human characteristics, yet without a single clear expression, looking increasingly lonely.
"We clear undead beings, but the poor creatures we need to protect actually include ourselves."
Both fell into silence, with the sound of pouring rain echoing in their ears for a long time.
Finally, Cole spoke slowly: "Alright, let's end the small talk there. I personally don't want to know what you're actually looking for. Young hunters always need to learn to step onto battlefields alone."
"What can I do for you?"
L really wasn't good at dealing with these big shots, but he definitely didn't believe Cole had just come to say hello.
"I wouldn't stoop to using a child. It's the Secret Party's executive in Massachusetts, your aunt Sharon Gray." Cole said quietly. "She knows you're in America and wants to meet you, but since you've cut all outside contact, she asked me to pass along the message."
"Massachusetts? That reminds me of the Salem Trials. Back then, whether you were a witch or someone with medical knowledge, you'd get tied to a stake and burned."
"That's a legacy issue. Also, the Curse Court isn't part of the Secret Party's constituent organizations. I hope you won't provoke those witches—they probably won't appreciate your fondness for arson." Cole's eyebrow twitched sharply. "Arteria—Sharon's operational base is in that small town."
"Well then, thank you very much, Minister Rutledge."
L nodded politely and took the briefcase the secretary handed him. Inside were neatly stacked crisp bills, three forged legal passports, an American Express Centurion black card, and... boxes and boxes of Jelly Babies candy.
Okay, that made sense.
Ever since Mother died, Aunt Sharon always spent a lot of effort on him and his sister. Compared to his bastard father and willful grandfather, she was more like the kind of middle-aged girl who'd take time to bring you to amusement parks.
Though most of the time you'd just watch her have fun.
But when L hunted alone through North American nights, he'd always think of those warm days.
Only now things had changed. He held a sword, no longer a child, only able to live honestly in lonely distances.
Boreas—L silently repeated this unforgettable name in his heart.
"Only when people lose something do they develop terrible determination. History has ended for some people, but for you, it's just beginning." Cole obviously noticed his subtle change of expression. "The academy and Secret Party doors will always be open to you."
"If you just want to send me to do dirty work without getting your own hands dirty, forget it." L turned his head, his clear pupils seeming to have violets blooming within them.
"Don't be so wary of me, child."
Cole didn't mind L's offense at all, just lifted the blanket from his knees, revealing empty trouser legs.
"Fifty years ago, in Oregon's Cascade Range, I lost both legs covering that guitar-playing idiot Dorian Aerol Gray. Back then, he was still just a cowboy playing in mud."
"I'll give him your regards if I get the chance."
The young man carrying secrets made no comment and simply turned and left.
After a long while, the secretary finally looked away from that stern figure: "Minister Rutledge, you know very well he's definitely not hunting aimlessly."
"Unfathomable targets are more troublesome than powerful ones." Cole said calmly. "In the Empire's Fall incident, the Secret Party nearly lost the most outstanding batch of young people at the time. As the only survivor, L holds the full picture of events. The Council of Elders sealed the files but didn't stop us from contacting him, meaning this child has no valuable intelligence."
"A young, militarily trained violent individual wandering our territory is always a dangerous factor, and... he seems not to trust us?"
"In our world, if you let people smell your inferiority, your cowardice, then bloodthirsty sharks will quickly swim toward you." The old man stroked his pipe made from Corsican briarwood, stuffing it with tobacco. "Loneliness is the best whetstone."
In the rising smoke, the secretary said nothing more, just quietly waiting.
"I know what you're thinking."
In the pattering rain, Cole suddenly laughed.
"Though still young, he's our best candidate for unraveling the mystery of Arteria."