Bernadette looked at Stephen. "This is getting complicated. Don't involve yourself any further."
"Understood!"
Stephen answered with obvious relief. "Land really is more dangerous than the sea. The sooner I get back to the Dawn, the better."
After Stephen left, Vincent said: "You still seem reluctant to let the Mirror People go entirely."
"I just have a few lingering questions."
She leaned back, thinking. "First: when did the Mirror People appear? I lived in Trier for decades, then returned occasionally for over a hundred years afterward, and I never once heard of them."
"Second: how much do the Orthodox Churches know about the Mirror People — especially the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery in Intis? What is their attitude toward them?"
"And third—" she continued, "what Trier's underground actually is. It's a relic left by the Tudor dynasty, full of unknowns and dangers. And yet Trier has always been rife with legends about what lies beneath. It became a kind of popular 'adventure' among young people — to go down and explore. If the Mirror People are born from those who delve deep enough underground, and if the Churches know this, why do they still allow people to enter?"
Vincent said with surprise: "Isn't that just... cultivating conditions for more Mirror People to be born?"
"The only explanation I can think of is that they want those living people entering the underground to serve as anchors — to suppress certain presences in the burial chambers below."
A long pause. Bernadette shook her head. "Well, none of this is actually my concern."
As it stood: the current Intis Republic had been built up by the two Churches after they arranged Roselle's assassination. Bernadette was the Crown Princess of the old empire.
Between them there was nothing but enmity.
They exchanged a few more words, then Bernadette stepped outside, following the yarn ball's guidance to a pub in the East District where she found Hugh.
Despite being the "Boss," Hugh still wore her usual knight training gear. Her hair looked even more dishevelled than last time. When they found her, she was frowning and speaking to a Zmange Gang Highlander. The man left, and Bernadette walked over.
"You've adapted quickly. Starting to feel like a proper gang leader."
Hugh rapped the bartop. The barman immediately produced two glasses and set them down with a respectful bow. Hugh slid one over. "I'll take that as a compliment."
She continued: "I've spent years living and working in the East District and the Docklands. I know exactly what they're like. I know why the gangs exist and why they keep growing — it's because the authorities let them. A lot of people join gangs because they can't survive otherwise. That won't change unless something fundamental changes. I know you put me here for a reason. I've signed the contract, and I'm not about to ignore it."
"And more importantly..." A small smile crept across her face. "Being a gang boss is extremely profitable. It's only been a few days and I've already made enough for a Sequence 8 formula."
Bernadette extended a hand. "The money. Give it to me."
"???"
"You want a formula, don't you? I happen to know where to get it. Saves you the trouble of sourcing it yourself."
Hugh thought for a moment. "Fair enough. But I don't make a habit of walking around with that much on me — I'll give it to you later."
With the Constable formula obtained, Hugh was in quite good spirits — until she suddenly frowned.
"The Sequence is called 'Constable.' So I need to act like a Constable?"
"That's right."
Hugh said to herself in a daze: "But I'm the boss of the Zmange Gang. That's... completely the opposite."
A Constable, by name and nature, maintained order and safety in their jurisdiction.
A gang, by definition, was the chief cause of disorder and danger.
Bernadette took a sip of her drink. "Think of it differently — maybe your identity as a gang boss makes it easier to act out the Constable."
"..."
Hugh scratched her head. "You mean get the Zmange Gang — people who only know how to break things — to maintain order instead? That's absurd!"
Hugh was no naive girl. She understood perfectly well what it took to keep a gang running and hold onto the boss's chair: firstly, sufficient intimidating force over the members — Lady Natasha had provided that, for now. And secondly, making sure the members could actually earn money — that was why they'd joined in the first place. No money, no loyalty.
So: how do you make a bunch of people who produce nothing whatsoever earn money? Protection fees. Extortion. Loan-sharking. And now she was supposed to make these same people give that all up and maintain public order? Ridiculous.
As Hugh sank into thought, Bernadette said: "I came today because I need your help with something."
"What?"
"You know Ancient Hermes, don't you?"
Hugh nodded. "Mostly."
Bernadette produced a folded slip of paper and held it out. "There are a few phrases in Ancient Hermes I can't read. Could you read them out for me?"
Hugh took the paper. She was a little puzzled but didn't overthink it. She opened it and began reading quietly, almost by reflex:
"Ruler of the Realm of Chaos, Restorer of the Unbalanced Scale, Shadow of Order and—"
She stopped dead.
Then her posture shot upright and she went rigid — her expression blanking into something approaching horror.
This... this sounds exactly like a three-part honorific for a mysterious existence.
Her grasp of mysticism and her accumulated knowledge of how the supernatural world worked screamed one thing at her: once you fully recite a mysterious existence's complete three-part honorific, you have almost certainly attracted that existence's attention. And the consequences of drawing that attention were likely to be grim, because most mysterious existences were terrifying, insane evil gods.
Hugh looked around in genuine panic, expecting some indescribable horror to materialise at any moment.
"That will do."
Bernadette's soft laugh arrived at precisely that moment. "Thank you for your help, Miss Hugh."
"!!!"
"You—"
Hugh understood in an instant. There was no Ancient Hermes she couldn't read. There was no "helping." It was all pretence — and this smiling woman had deliberately orchestrated this entire thing to make her recite those words.
"Why?"
Hugh clenched her jaw, furious eyes locked on Bernadette, feeling simultaneously enraged, bewildered, and genuinely hard done by.
I've been so cooperative. I've obediently done everything arranged for me. Yes, all right, I've skimmed a little profit these past few days — but that was honestly earned!
You can't just do this to me!
She was absolutely itching to leap across and scratch her — and would have, if she had any confidence in surviving the attempt.
"Don't worry."
Bernadette said: "I'm not harming you. I'm helping you."
"Helping me... get noticed by an evil god?"
"Trust me — what you just recited is not an evil god's honorific. It belongs to something older. An ancient deity of sorts. Not only will it not hurt you — it will bestow certain powers on you, making you stronger."
Hugh smiled coldly, making it abundantly clear she did not believe a word of this.
"When you see it for yourself, you'll understand."
"???"
Hugh's smile froze. "See — see it? What do you mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. You'll see, with your own eyes, the existence whose honorific you just recited."
Smack.
Every trace of fight seemed to drain out of Hugh all at once. She slumped back, the picture of resignation.
"You're in a terrible mood all of a sudden," Vincent said with quiet amusement.
Bernadette replied in his mind: "I only used the simplest method to achieve the goal. Do you think she would have recited your three-part honorific willingly under normal circumstances?"
Fair enough.
But looking at Hugh's current state, it did seem like she'd been... thoroughly rattled.
Bernadette set down her glass. "I'll take my leave. Reach out any time you need me."
Hugh did not respond.
As soon as they were outside the pub, Bernadette asked: "When do you plan to go and 'meet' Hugh Dilcha?"
"Once she's had a bit of time to calm down. No point in scaring her further."
"Mm."
At that moment, the Invisible Servant came darting out of the Spirit World and dropped a letter into Bernadette's hand. She opened it, and her eyebrows rose slightly. "Nast replied."
"The King of the Five Seas — the one who gave you the compass?"
"Yes. He wants to meet now."
To be continued…
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