That said, Xio still knew far too little about that mysterious existence. For all she knew, He could be some god in disguise — and if that were the case, dragging Audrey into it would be deeply irresponsible.
She'd revisit the idea later.
"Miss Audrey, why are you suddenly so interested in all this?"
Fors spoke up, her mind already ticking over. Someone who connects the repeated mention of "Broker" to the idea that it might be a Sequence in a Pathway — they probably have some knowledge of the Acting Method.
"Well, it's just... Lady Natasha seems to have such remarkable reach. It's fascinating."
Fors glanced toward the front of the carriage. "Why not just ask Mr. Stephen directly? Lady Natasha introduced him — he must know her well enough."
"Mr. Stephen doesn't know either. He told me I have too vivid an imagination and that no such thing as a Broker Pathway or Sequence exists."
"Then maybe there really isn't one."
Hmph.
His horizons are simply too narrow. The Broker Pathway was a real pathway — Mr. Fool himself had confirmed it. And Audrey had verified it through her own investigation.
"Try asking Lady Natasha herself next time," Xio offered.
Neighhh!!
Right at that moment, the horse — which had been trotting along perfectly calmly — lurched to an abrupt halt and reared up on its hind legs. The sudden jolt sent everyone inside the carriage pitching forward. Xio moved fast, grabbing both Fors and Audrey with one hand each, and called out, "What's happening?!"
"Nothing to do with us," Stephen said, his brow lifting slightly.
"What?"
"Beyonders fighting nearby. The horse just got spooked. We'll be fine once we're clear of the area."
"Help! Ahhh!!"
A woman's scream split the night. Audrey's face went pale. She bit her lip and said, "Someone's calling for help."
"Not our problem."
Stephen calmed the horse, lightly flicked the reins, and kept going.
"Please — don't kill me — ahhh!!!"
A man's cry of terror this time.
"Stephen," Audrey said, drawing a steadying breath. "Could you go and check?"
"Miss Audrey, my job is to protect you, not to—"
"I'll pay extra."
"Well now, funnily enough, rescuing people in distress happens to be one of my greatest passions."
Stephen flashed a grin. "That said, if I go, I can't watch over all of you at the same time."
"That's fine — Xio and Fors are here, aren't they?"
Xio and Fors: We appreciate the vote of confidence. But we're absolute weaklings compared to whatever's out there.
Honestly, what can you do when a noble lady is like this? In the Beyonder world, the only correct response to a situation like this is to run — immediately and without looking back. That's just common sense.
But... if you put yourself in the shoes of whoever was screaming and suffering down that alley, you'd desperately wish someone would step in.
Alright then, if things go really sideways, we'll just summon a messenger and beg Lady Natasha for help. That should be fast enough... probably.
Stephen hopped off the carriage and strode quickly toward the sounds of the screaming. Soon he came to a pub tucked away in a side alley — and even from a distance, he could smell it. Blood. The concentrated, heavy smell of a great deal of blood.
That's at least a dozen people dead to leave a smell like this.
His expression sharpened in an instant.
Bang!
The pub door flew open and a blood-soaked man came sprinting out, stumbling and lurching as he kept throwing panicked glances over his shoulder.
"No — !"
Suddenly a mass of dripping, crimson flesh shot out from the pub doorway, flowing like a living slick of slime. It engulfed the fleeing man in an instant, swallowing him whole with a chorus of wet, horrible sounds.
"Rose Bishop?"
Stephen's eyes narrowed. He met the two scarlet eyes gleaming from within the mass of flesh and blood. "Ah. It's the Shepherd."
Of all the coincidences.
Meanwhile, once the last of the guests had left the gathering, Vivian walked over. "Your Majesty, shall I have someone tail the man who was asking about the doll?"
"No need. He's at least a Sequence 7 Sanguine. I've already placed a mark on him."
"Understood."
Vincent couldn't help but ask, "Why tail him?"
"He seems to have an unusually strong interest in the dolls Father made in his early years... He might know things I don't."
He's interested in them because he's a die-hard doll enthusiast — that's all. That's Emlyn White for you.
Bernadette then produced a translucent, ghostly hat and placed it on her head. Her figure blurred and faded — she stepped into the Spirit World.
When she stepped back out, she was standing on a rooftop. In the red-tinged light of the moon, she looked down at the street below. A man in a long coat was weaving through the alleyways at speed.
The man from the gathering — the one who'd asked about the doll.
He moved fast, only a fleeting shadow visible in the dark — but Bernadette followed him without the slightest hurry, never losing him for a moment.
Eventually they arrived in Backlund's South Borough. She watched the man slink up to a building, acting suspiciously, and find an open window — which he slipped through with a quiet flip.
Bernadette dropped silently from the rooftop and landed without a sound.
"This is a hospital?"
She was genuinely puzzled. "Why would he come here?"
Vincent's thought: Probably to steal blood.
Emlyn, you really are something else. Riding your bicycle to the fancy restaurant — splashing pounds on luxurious dolls you can't quite afford, and then sneaking into a hospital to pinch a pint. Priorities, man.
Wait, actually — this hospital looks familiar. Oh, right. This is the place we brought that kid with the broken leg.
The hospital at night was utterly silent. Aside from a few nurses on duty, almost no one was moving through the corridors.
The man navigated the building with practised ease, making his way to the very back — to a room sealed with a heavy metal door. He'd lifted a key from some office along the way, and he used it now, slipping inside without a second thought. Not once did he notice the presence that had been right behind him the whole time.
"Oh — fresh blood!"
He sniffed the air, his face lighting up. He made his way to a long shelf lined with blood collection bottles, picked one up, cracked it open, took a small sip, then put it back. Then he picked up the next one.
Vincent couldn't help it — he burst out laughing. "Ha! This vampire has standards — he only takes a little from each bottle."
Bernadette stared at the scene, incredulous. "He went through all of that — all that sneaking and doubling back — just to steal blood? How does a vampire not have the money to buy blood somewhere?" She genuinely couldn't work it out. It wasn't as though Sanguine couldn't afford to pay for it.
Besides, the man had sold at least five hundred pounds worth of potions at the gathering tonight.
"Do you really think someone like this is sitting on some great secret?"
"I'll just ask him directly."
Bernadette snapped her fingers. In an instant, peach trees sprang up all across the blood storage room, their branches laden with blooms of vivid pink.
The vampire nearly leapt out of his skin. His first instinct was to run. Then he registered what was happening — a Beyonder had made a move. He dropped into a defensive stance and hissed under his breath, "Who's there?!"
Click.
Bernadette stepped into view and said plainly, "Why are you looking for Emperor Roselle's dolls?"
"???"
The man blinked. Then his brain caught up. "You were at the gathering just now?"
"Why are you looking for Emperor Roselle's dolls?"
"Why? Because I like them. That's why."
Emlyn looked genuinely baffled. "Emperor Roselle is the Father of Dolls! I've wanted one of his earliest creations for years!"
"You like them."
"Is that a problem?"
Emlyn lifted his chin, affronted. "Dolls are the purest, most innocent, most perfect beings in the world. Nothing compares to them. My life's ambition is to collect the finest dolls in existence!"
"..."
His nose hadn't grown longer. So he was telling the truth.
So this vampire is the one Father once called... an 'otaku of the second dimension'?
Catching the flicker of bewilderment in Bernadette's eyes, Emlyn's dignity immediately curdled into indignation.
"What kind of look is that? I like dolls, I collect dolls — what's wrong with that? Am I eating your rice?"
If he'd had any idea how powerful this woman actually was, Emlyn would never have dared to push back like that.
Bernadette said nothing more. She took a half-step back, and her figure simply ceased to exist — taking the peach trees and blossoms with it.
In a blink, the blood storage room was back to normal. Emlyn stood alone, feeling like he might have just hallucinated the whole thing.
"!!!"
The fear arrived late, like a cold wave breaking over him. Someone who could appear and disappear without his spiritual senses catching even a whisper — someone at that level of sequence — and I just talked back at her. I practically had an attitude with her. That was...
That was practically begging to die.
The thought hit him all at once. He spun around and ran for the exit.
After leaving the blood storage room, Bernadette had been about to slip through the Spirit World and head back — but she paused mid-step outside a particular ward. Her gaze sharpened slightly.
I've been in this ward before.
No. Not quite right. She had only seen it before.
It was the ward from that dream she'd been pulled into — the one where she'd found herself standing in a hospital room just like this, with a round-faced, bright-eyed little boy inside.
At the time she'd assumed someone was attacking her through a dream. But nothing had come of it. That had left a lingering question: whoever pulled her into that dream — what had they actually wanted?
To be continued…
Advance 100 Chapters are up on my Patreon!
pat reon.com/AlphaSenatus