Silas and the red-haired Sophia agreed on the split, but verbal promises didn't count for much, so she produced a contract paper and wrote out all the terms clearly for both of them to sign.
Although they signed with false names, the moment he finished writing, Silas felt a subtle and peculiar connection form within his body.
If he didn't act according to the contract's contents, it seemed something very bad would happen.
"Even a Sequence 4 demigod would pay an enormous price for violating a 'Notarization.' I hope you won't break the contract," Sophia warned seriously.
"That Beyonder gathering is tomorrow night. We'll meet at the head of Backlund Bridge then."
Silas nodded in agreement and parted ways with her.
He merged his body into the shadows.
Instead of going straight back, he circled around several times until he confirmed Sophia wasn't following, then returned to his rented apartment.
"You're finally back!"
Greeting him at the door was his young landlady Emily, wearing a tender yellow nightgown, her hands twisted together, looking anxious and uneasy.
She'd been through far too many shocks that night. First a group of bloodied wounded people had burst in, then actual fighting had broken out.
Although she'd hidden in her room and hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she'd still heard the terrifying commotion.
When she came out to look, her home had been turned into a complete mess, with even a scorched mark burned into the floor.
"Sorry for frightening you... Where's my sister?"
Silas asked, his gaze sweeping around the room. He didn't see Cecilia anywhere.
"I don't know."
Emily's answer made him freeze. "After all your noisy commotion, the room went quiet. When I came out, I didn't see anyone."
Where had Cecilia gone?
Silas grew somewhat anxious and turned to go look for her, only to see the door being pushed open just then, and his sister walking in.
"Brother, you're back."
She looked very happy.
"Cecilia, where did you go?"
"I was prowling invisibly around the nearby streets the whole time, in case anything unexpected happened."
His sister answered. "So, how did it go? Is everything resolved?"
"More or less."
Through his clothes, Silas touched the third-generation difference engine manuscript hidden in his chest, and his heart settled somewhat.
Just then, the clamoring sounds in his ears gradually grew louder, his vision darkened, and all objects began to twist and deform.
So the time of consciousness has finally ended.
He thought regretfully, called out to his sister, and had her help control him.
Either way, he'd made out like a bandit tonight.
Not only had he digested the potion, he'd also harvested a lamb, and even obtained an item of extremely high value. With this thing, who knew what he could trade with that important person?
Money?
Beyonder items?
Or perhaps he could simply ask them to intervene and solve his mental condition?
Before falling into half-madness, Silas was still considering these things.
Early the next morning, having replenished himself with large quantities of fresh meat, Silas regained consciousness.
He sat at the dining table, accompanying Emily and Cecilia for breakfast while unfolding the newspaper to read the news.
Ever since the fat apothecary told him about a gathering that published clues in the Backlund Morning Post, he'd subscribed to that paper.
He'd also subscribed to several other newspapers that were fairly well-known in Backlund as a way to obtain information in his daily life.
Just like now, as soon as he unfolded the paper, a very impactful piece of news appeared prominently in the headlines:
"Intis Ambassador Bakerland Murdered! Terrorist Organization 'Aurora Order' Claims Responsibility!"
Huh?
Seeing this headline, Silas couldn't help but freeze for a moment.
Wasn't Intis Ambassador Bakerland the superior of Rosago that the golden mask had mentioned?
He'd been killed by people from the Aurora Order?
Thinking about how he'd just impersonated an Aurora Order envoy last night, Silas couldn't help but laugh.
He'd originally planned to push the blame onto the Aurora Order, but unexpectedly, the Aurora Order had actually been involved in the incident.
In that case, MI9 would be led in the wrong direction, running off to investigate those fanatics, and he'd be much safer.
A good thing. Let them tear each other apart.
With a cheerful mood, Silas continued flipping through the other newspapers.
He saw that on page five of the Backlund Morning Post, there was no related gathering information, and that Sherlock Moriarty detective was still running his advertisement.
15 Minsk Street, I'll remember that. Once I finish digesting the Shadow Ascetic potion, I'll go meet this great detective.
Silas thought to himself.
He put down the newspaper, picked up scissors, and cut the finished paper into several roughly shaped paper figures, planning to use these as substitutes later.
***
North Borough, the Backlund headquarters of the Evernight Goddess Church, St. Samuel Cathedral.
"Tap, tap."
The handsome-faced Leonard, wearing bright red gloves, walked through the empty, deep corridor.
Compared to when he was in Tingen, he looked much more composed. In his emerald eyes, there seemed to be a trace of hazy detachment from reality.
Turning a corner, Leonard suddenly stopped dead.
Before his eyes, many familiar figures suddenly appeared: Dunn, Klein, Silas... They looked at Leonard, each wearing a smile, just like when they were at the Blackthorn Security Company.
Leonard watched quietly for a while, his eyes filled with nostalgia, slowly revealing a bitter smile.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I shouldn't have mocked you behind your back before... Turns out after becoming a Nightmare, one's memory really does get much worse..."
After the dreamlike hallucination disappeared, he continued forward.
Now he had successfully advanced to Sequence 7 "Nightmare" and gained qualification to join the Nighthawks' elite "Red Gloves."
He would gather in Backlund together with other newcomers, then head to the sanctuary in Wintershire in the north to receive a full set of training and courses.
Just wait, everyone. This is my first step in avenging you.
As he was walking, he suddenly encountered an old man coming toward him.
The other wore a classical-style black robe, holding some documents in his arms, his hair gray and white, deep wrinkles on his face.
Old Neil.
Leonard's eyes couldn't help but constrict.
And opposite him, Old Neil also noticed Leonard. First shocked, then soon his gray-white beard began to tremble, his face showing a mixture of joy and desolation.
He looked like he wanted to open his mouth to say something, but when the words reached his lips, he didn't know where to begin.
"..."
Leonard took a deep breath, lowered his eyes, and continued walking forward.
He didn't say a word.
Hold it in, don't speak, don't reminisce, Leonard told himself in his heart.
Because once they started talking, they'd inevitably chat about the Captain, about avenging their companions... Old Neil was someone who'd died once already and had saved the Captain more than once.
Now he was already very old. Making him leave his peaceful twilight years to participate in battle against powerful enemies would be too cruel.
Better to just pretend not to know each other. It's better for everyone.
Old Neil seemed to sense Leonard's thoughts too. He became conflicted, sad, even a bit angry. The documents in his arms almost couldn't be held steady.
But until the very end, he didn't initiate conversation either.
Just like that, the distance between the two gradually closed until they passed each other by, then the distance widened again.
"...Take care."
As he neared the end of the corridor, an aged voice, trembling, came from behind him.
"..."
Leonard closed his eyes, his footsteps not stopping.