"Special service..."
Clayton gazed through the phantom at the things beyond him, at a momentary loss for words.
But the phantom evaluator did not wait any longer. Since Clayton had expressed no interest, he decided to begin his work.
"Mr. Bello, please, listen as I ask questions."
Clayton leaned against the wall and hugged the girl's head in his arms, waiting for the questions.
The admission test came at a bad time. The current Clayton couldn't brace himself for it.
After the meal, he now felt very sleepy.
"How do you think Darkins should get along with human beings?"
"Just like an ordinary man gets along with another. I learned from Gilead that the Dark Moon could transform humans into Darkins, so... normally getting along with each other is okay."
"Alright. Then, do you think that we Darkins should make public our existence to society, especially in this era where the mysterious world stays elusive?"
What question was this? .... Clayton had never expected from the evaluator a question.. Well... so unrelated to everyday life.
This sounded like an issue within a lawmaker's purview.
"Keeping it hush-hush is better. From my experience, ordinary folks have never considered our existence acceptable. Furthermore, it is not a proper time." At least back when Clayton had been a human, he had never minded firing a deadly shot at a monster. Even up to now, he still considered himself right.
And he had believed until yesterday that a Darkin's inherent tendency could be suppressed with great ease and was not much of a concern.
As long as he had enough money, he could purchase sufficient food to mollify his hungry, longing soul.
However, only after sustaining injuries did he realize how arduous it was to repress his nature.
The pain and frenzy had paralyzed his mind and blurred his memory of the battle. He had even unconsciously wolfed down strange stuff.
Imagine a person who was free to wander about and might lose control and hurt people. Even if it was just a lunatic, ordinary folks would feel alarmed. They would prefer to know that such individuals are jailed. Or else, at the slightest sign of a conflict, people might well resort to extreme means.
Even though Darkins' nature varied and some were harmless, it was unlikely that people would bear this in mind, as far as Clayton was concerned.
"A prudent point of view, Mr. Bello." The phantom voiced his agreement, " My opinion echoes yours."
Clayton cared little about what the phantom thought.
"If, after your admission, the Council requires your contribution, how far would you go? Will you fight for it?"
"A yearly membership fee of five hundred pounds. As for combat, may I take the liberty of enlisting the service of an armed detective in place of me?"
"Decidedly a businessman's approach. Well, then what do you expect to reap from the Council, aside from the most basic welfare benefits?"
Clayton pondered before concluding that there was nothing he desired particularly. His regular clients could provide a large amount of funds every year. On most occasions, money could cater to his needs. So, he said,
"The peace of the city, that's what I want."
The phantom evaluator, folding his fingers together, remarked impartially, "Mr. Bello, it seems that you're a pacifist."
"Yes, I have always cherished peace."
Clayton felt that the spider legs beneath Clara's neck had extended a little longer. He inclined his head to verify before mercilessly pulling all of them off, sending the transparent blood splashing all around.
"Very good. Now I can be sure that you're a reliable new member. Congratulations on joining the Council."
The phantom extended one hand to Clayton, who was seated on the floor.
Subconsciously, Clayton reached out for a handshake, but what awaited a swish of his hand was nothing but air.
The phantom, once again, broke into laughter.
With a dark face, Clayton waited until his laughter died out.
Having had enough of laughing, the evaluator proposed once more, "Would you like the special service ---- trading secret for secret."
"What's that? "
Clayton was in no mood either to take part in a bizarre activity or pour out his secrets to others.
"Whatever you want to know, you can swap your own secrets for it. Rest assured. The traded secret would be undisclosed. Even the Council can't demand a word about them from me."
"Why are you so obsessed with secrets?" Clayton suspiciously eyed the phantom.
The phantom gave an all-purpose answer. "Because I'm a phantom. The more secrets I know, the freer I am."
"But Gilead has never demanded secrets from me."
"In a way, he is freer than I, so he no longer needs secrets. But if someday he can't restrain his desires, he would end up like me."
Bad at unraveling a mystery, Clayton failed to grasp these words.
"Since you're a freeman, why do you do the Council's bidding? Is it possible that they can offer you a ceaseless supply of secrets?"
The phantom's voice remained cheerful as ever. "I am not acting on orders from the Council, but helping some of my friends who have been able to remember me the whole time, and who happen to be the leaders of the Council."
As he couldn't remember the other party, those leaders must be far stronger than he, Clayton reflected.
The phantom's next sentence held Clayton's face in its thrall. "Let's trade, I know you wish to know about the Holy Grail Society, because you've killed their men."
The werewolf sprang to his feet and backed away a few steps, his gaze vigilant.
Although unable to discern the phantom's face, Clayton could sense he was smirking.
"You see, I know a lot of secrets. You must be interested in trading with me."
This did hold true. Given the exposure of Clayton's biggest secret, Clayton no longer needed to hold back the others.
Now he was indeed tempted to conduct a transaction with the phantom.
Nonetheless...
"Are the secrets you're using to trade all your own? How can I make sure that you won't reveal my secrets to others?" he questioned.
The phantom shook his head. "A phantom only sells a dead man's secrets. Or else, he would lose his freedom. So rest assured."
His tone of voice reminded Clayton of Clara, so Clayton gave her head a second punch to thwart her recovery as it lay in his bosom.
The terms of the trade now seemed clear: though the phantom could not offer a living person's secrets, Clayton was allowed to use living people's to make an exchange.
"Alright. Let's trade." Clayton said, "I want to know about the Mani family's history over the past eighty years except for Joe Mani's part."
The phantom gave a brief shake, his form looking faintly illusory. "You're being too unfair. I can't make such a deal. This segment of history includes numerous secrets. If you want to get it, give me at least twenty secrets."
Clayton had never uncovered so many secrets of others, but he stuck to his demand.
"This could only be counted as a big secret, for which I can trade you one that carries the same weight."
"Are you sure you have one?"
Clayton had no advantageous secret, but he did keep one that meant a lot to himself.
"Yes."
"I doubt this." The phantom seemed to have seen through him at a glance. "So I will tell you how to glean the information you need, instead of a direct answer. But you still have to tell me that secret."
"Deal."
It dawned on Clayton that he had no better choice, so he accepted the evaluator's suggestion straight away.
Seemingly unworried that Clayton might renege, the phantom was the first to offer his intel, pointing at Clara's head.
"If you want to know about the Holy Grail Society, just ask Clara. She knows everything."
Clayton shot an incredulous look at the girl's head, in utter disbelief that it contained anything about that. "But I have been hitting her, and she has also tried to kill me. I don't think she would cooperate. What's more, dumb as she is..."
The girl's head, which had been unresponsive the whole time despite the punches, abruptly yelled as her eyes flew open. "Clara isn't dumb, Clara is the smartest!"
Clayton grew more careworn.
"She's the devil summoned to witness the contract between Joseph Mani and the Holy Grail Society," the phantom explained, "Since she is silly, you can cozy up to her after feeding her for a while."
"Not silly! Not silly!" Clara, left with only her head, screamed.
Clayton jerked her jaw hard, dislocating it, before quietude in the hallway resumed.
"Why a devil? Isn't she a Darkin?"
"She is a Darkin possessed by a devil, an incorporeal entity that came from Hell. The one and only kind a devil could possess is Darkins. That's why the White Church had treated us as the same kind long ago. This is no secret but part of the contemporary era's general knowledge. So it's on the house."
The phantom evaluator began to dwell on the past,
"Once upon a time, wizards preferred summoning a devil to possess an arthropod or reptile, not because of their venom or more impressive explosive power, but because they are more controllable. The possessing devil's intelligence would drop to match the host's, making them forgetful of everything except the contract. Even though you have hurt her, often feeding her could easily mend your relationship."
Clayton took the phantom's advice seriously.
"But now she still wants to attack me, and her limbs are constantly recovering, yet I can't tame her within a short time. How should I deal with all this?"
"Silver, the scared metal, can curb her recovery," the phantom said.
Seemingly because of Clayton's good share of questions, the atmosphere began chilling slightly.
The phantom's figure drifted up to Clayton, his tone on the verge of betraying eagerness and impatience. "I surmise I have spoken enough. Now it's my turn to listen to your secret."