1

The establishment known as the Crimson Lotus was indeed easy to locate, even without additional instructions, if only you knew of the telltale color. In the tight-packed neighborhood of considerably more subdued, washed-out tones, that tall, wide-faced pagoda of bright red walls stood out like a traffic sign. To add to the luminous effect, each of the eight floors of the building was decorated with lanterns of similarly warm colors, luring visitors like moths to a flame.

Nights were when brothels typically thrived. But though the night was still young, not much movement could be seen in the perimeter, or in the nearby streets. A short set of stairs led up from the sidewalk to the grand main entrance, a black-painted doorway sandwiched between thick red pillars, the frame boards engraved with elaborate golden patterns.

Two large, bald bouncers in black were keeping the door, wearing grim faces, like monks at the gates of Shaolin.

“Open, sesame!” Izumi told them, brazenly approaching the stairs. “I’m here to see the boss!”

“We’re not open tonight,” the staff informed her, making forbidding gestures.

If given the chance to reconsider, they likely would’ve picked better last words.

Putting her sword away, Izumi passed through the doorway and entered a tidy, stylish lounge, reminiscent of an eastern, top class ryokan. The floor and the ceiling were uniform black in color, the walls steady crimson. No excess furniture, a spotless carpet. A little old woman sat behind a cubic, all-black reception desk in the left hand corner, dressed in what looked like a lavender kimono, to Izumi’s surprise. Suppose it was a fairly universal outfit.

“What do you want?” the receptionist asked the guest after a brief look, her tone quite as dry and sour as her face looked, her bun-tied hair white as bone.

Izumi walked briskly up to the desk, leaned her elbows on it, and said,

“Hi! Can you get me the finest cutie-pie in the house, grandma?”

“Go fuck yourself,” the old woman answered her. “We’re not open. The gentlemen outside ought to have told you that.”

“Then I will get real with you, Ms Marple,” Izumi revised, her smile fading. “Who runs this place and where can I find them?”

The receptionist answered the woman with a tinge of what might’ve been pity in her beady eyes—or just contempt. “That has to be the dumbest question I’ve ever heard in my longass life. And if you need to ask it, then I know you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Oh, is that right?” Izumi replied in monotone. “Well, I’ve heard questions a good deal dumber than that, as of late. Empty, wasteful questions like, ‘who are you?’, ‘why are you doing this?’, ‘can I go now?’, ‘will you not kill me if I tell you?’, and so on, and so on. And I’m getting very, very tired of hearing them. The only questions that really matter are the ones I make, so I’d appreciate some direct answers, for once, and less aimless chit-chat. Otherwise, I might have to point out for you that it’s not the 21st of September.”

For a lengthy while, the receptionist said nothing, but only stared grimly back at Izumi, not batting an eye. And Izumi stared back, likewise not budging an inch.

“Go on in,” the old woman then said. “The Mistress will be with you in a moment.”

“Cheers,” Izumi said and tossed the woman a coin. “Hope you have a solid retirement plan, ‘cos you’ll be out of a job before morning.”

Izumi passed through a veiled opening in the back of the lounge further in.

A short corridor brought her into a hall of impressive dimensions; an atrium offering an anatomical cross-section of the entire interior, all the way to the top. It was certainly unlike any average brothel in a less prosperous settlement. Not that Izumi knew any better, but the Crimson Lotus was famous throughout the human realm, and something of a tourist attraction.

It wasn’t only about sex. Dances, acrobatic performances, magic shows, fashion exhibits, stage plays, food orgies, and various other uplifting events were regularly held here for paying customers. To make the stay truly one of a kind and unforgettable.

Nothing very uplifting was on display at the moment, however.

In the back was an imperial staircase taking to the second floor, but the black-painted parquet before it lay level, sparkling clean, and bare. Yet, even though there were no shows or customers expected tonight, the place was not completely empty either.

In the middle of the hall, facing the entrance, stood two long lines of young women in flamingo-pink outfits, only a narrow gap between them. They looked more like ballerinas than prostitutes in their leotards, stockings, and feathered skirts, delicate yet athletic, their faces painted, every strand of hair on them representing the high standards of the company. Their gazes all turned to the guest, displaying no fear nor surprise, but only trained, disciplined hardness of character.

“Hm?” Izumi stopped before those strangely militaristic ranks and frowned.

Why such a setup? If the place was closed, how come they were there and ready? Had they received news of her moves, after all? How? Izumi had no knowledge of the on-going pirate hunt, or that all criminal organizations near and far were on the edge, prepared to be raided day and night. Her timing had simply been unlucky.

Not that it mattered.

Nothing mattered—save for just one thing.

None of these villains could be allowed to go after Iris, or any other innocent soul again.

“My, my!” Izumi sighed, holding her hands on her hips. “I get butterflies in the tummy if you all stare at me like that! Flashbacks of gym class in high school. Well, now that I have your attention, I have two options for you, girls! One: you tell me where I might find the headmaster, nice and easy. Two: I go find him myself, and you’ll regret not wearing a deeper shade of red tonight! Your choice! By the way, you’re welcome to try and seduce me too! But I should warn you, my standards for feminine beauty are ridiculously high! I may still be a virgin at my age, but that doesn’t mean just about anyone will do, okay? Since I’m this cute myself, you’ll need a face at least as adorable, or better!”

No one answered her requests. Instead, in one simultaneous, fluid motion, the women all drew thin, short, flickering swords, and widened their footing, assuming a low battle stance. It appeared that the local courtesans were trained also in skills not strictly tied to entertainment.

“Chilling!” Izumi commented with a shudder and slowly drew the greatsword over her shoulder. “Who do I have to kill to find some love! Come on then. I do think cutting down such excellent figures is a massive waste—but gender equality is the word of the day!”

Without a separate signal, the women charged at Izumi, like a flock of birds startled to flight. Almost completely without a sound, they glided over the shiny floor, brandishing their bright blades. But before the first attacker could reach her, Izumi made her move.

“Sifl!” Adjusting her speed, she leapt forward, caught the front line by surprise, and mowed them down in a horizontal sweep. With one heavy flash of metal, she stilled the whole group’s momentum.

Of course, the conclusion of such a match was foregone.

The courtesan’s little swords and ceremonial combat skills held no weight in these scales. Bearing no armor, with only the strength and agility of standard human beings, they were good as paper dolls before the elven blade. Unceasing and unforgiving, the Amygla sliced through the air again and again, and upon each relentless swing, another nubile flower was broken and cast away, the black flooring showered by a rain of pink petals.

Yet, though they had to have seen immediately the absence of any chance of of victory, the girls wouldn’t stop. Where one fell, another would step up, for seemingly no other purpose but to perish in kind. Whether it could be called loyalty, or simple disregard for life, none considered the option of retreat, but ran into the wall before them with eyes wide open. And portrayed in their heart-achingly tragic dance was, in sobering vividness, both the brevity and the overall aimlessness of human life.

“——Stop that.”

A voice from the side interrupted the massacre. The combatants all stilled in their tracks and looked east, up to the second floor. An older woman had appeared standing by the balustrade, clad in a deep red, beautifully embroidered kimono, a haori of darker tone over it. Her black hair was tied up in a complex arrangement adorned with pins and great, colorful flowers. Tattoos decorated her painted face, whence a pair of dark, sharp eyes surveyed the slaughter with chilling coldness in them.

“Get lost,” the woman mouthed.

At once, voicing not a single word of protest, the surviving courtesans put away their swords and withdrew, scurrying out of the hall by the back door, like mice off the dining table at night when the lights go on. Once they were all gone, the woman in red left unhurriedly walking towards the staircase, chewing the mouthpiece of her engraved pipe.

“I sense magical constructs,” Yubilea cautioned Izumi. “It’s not powerful, but I get a peculiar feeling. You should be careful.”

Izumi made a slight nod in affirmation, her eyes fixed on the vibrant figure.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she commented aloud. “Finally someone looking like a real boss character show up. I take it you’re the manager of this cheerleader team then?”

“Suppose I am,” the woman answered, coming to halt at the top of the stairs.

In a heartbeat, her demeanor changed completely. A wide, confident smile spread across her lips and she carried out a smooth, theatrical bow, swinging her pipe hand to the side, and announced,

“I am Sai-Lin Qi Weler! The Tarantula! The owner of the Crimson Lotus! The Captain of the Crawling Tiger! Welcome, beloved customer, to my humble shop! How then may I help you on this stormy night? Is it pleasure you seek with us? Is it fun times you dream of? Or is it only suffering and grief? Whatever your heart desires, we can arrange—so long as the price is right!”

“There’s only one thing I want,” Izumi answered, pointing her sword at Sai-Lin. “And that’s your turnip. Will you hand it over, if I pay you? I don’t mean to brag but I have pretty deep pockets these days!”

Sai-Lin’s smile widened as she straightened her figure and replied, a derisive look in her eyes,

“Oh, I’m afraid that won’t do. I happen to like my head right where it belongs, and it’s worth more to me than gold. If you want it, you’re going to have to come and get it, old maid!”

“Fine by me,” Izumi replied and stepped forward past the corpses.

“Such enterprising spirit!” Sai-Lin jeered. “Oh, but as the proprietress of a company boasting a hundred-percent customer satisfaction rate, I find a straightforward brawl would be beneath our brand. So before we get to the gory business, might I entertain dear customer with a little story?”

“No, I’m good,” Izumi replied and continued on.

“Don’t be such a wet blanket!” the woman told her and began to descend the stairs to meet her. “I promise, it is not a standard fable, and it ends with a bang! This is a true story, you see? It tells of a man they found adrift at sea one hot summer day. There was no ship to be seen, no clue as to where he had come from, as if he had simply dropped right out of the sky. Left be, that man surely would have perished without anyone to know he ever existed, had not a passing vessel picked him up. Alas, to his poor fortune, it was a pirate ship that found him.”

“Oh? So there’s someone even less lucky than me out there?” Izumi commented, walking on with little hurry.

“I wonder!” Sai-Lin said and smiled. “Going by his most unusual attire, the pirates suspected the castaway to be an imperial, and were pondering if they hadn’t only made a mistake in their altruism. Perhaps they were better off tossing him back where they found him? Realizing his predicament, this stranger quickly spun the strangest yarn to save his hide. He told his captors he was, in truth, no imperial, or anything of the sort——but a human from another world.”

“What…?” Izumi stopped in her tracks, unable to hide her surprise.

“Indeed!” Sai-Lin grinned wide, stopping as well on the stairs to face the woman, only some eight steps between them. “Of course, no one believed him. Not even an unschooled jack could be so daft! As if such a thing could be remotely possible! But the man swore he told the truth. To prove his identity and barter for his life, he offered to share his foreign knowledge, and tell his captors something no native of our lands could know. So he described to them a weapon he said was common in the battlefields of his land. It was a rather crude and unsophisticated plan, but the wizard affiliated with the pirates was able to adapt the concept and craft an armament of highly unusual quality.”

As she spoke, Sai-Lin reached under her haori, and slowly drew out a strange object.

It looked like a metal cylinder, a bit shorter than the length of the forearm, and thin, attached to an engraved, curving handle of wood, a gilded trigger below, a curving silvery guard, and a hammer on top.

Izumi couldn’t believe her eyes.

“That’s…!”

As queerly off as the design was from its standard variations, an imitation made based on hearsay, lacking proper understanding of the original parts and their technical purposes, there could be no mistake; it was a flintlock pistol. What a horrifying invention to appear in this world of pure semi-medieval fantasy! Izumi shuddered in disgust.

“Yes! Rest your eyes on the mysterious weapon from another world!” Sai-Lin smiled, misreading her reaction. “Only two were ever produced. One for yours truly, the Captain of the ship that found the castaway; the other as a gift to my esteemed superior. Despite its modest looks, it is surprisingly effective, as its inventor may attest—he was the first one it was tested on. The man had told the truth, after all! Not that honesty did him any good. No one shall ever know his name. Nor yours.”

Concluding her tale, Sai-Lin pointed the pistol at Izumi and pulled the trigger.

The terrible bang of a gunshot roared.

Propelled by the pressure of an internal combustion, a ball of metal was propelled out of the barrel—that was as far as similarity to the original went. What launched the ammunition was not gunpowder, but the weapon holder’s mana, condensed and ignited by a purely thaumaturgical formula. The potency correlated with the talent of the user, and was well above what a standard flintlock pistol's frame could have endured, had not the barrel been also reinforced with enchantments.

The likewise magically conjured bullet, on the other hand, couldn’t withstand the pressure, but was fragmented and burst out of the barrel as a dense cloud of shrapnel, only lethal at a fairly short range. Which was why Sai-Lin had waited for Izumi to get closer before making her move.

Instead of smoke, the weapon exuded only a cloud of light vapor, condensed off the air by the temporary spike of heat. As the haze soon cleared, Sai-Lin looked ahead, expecting to see a headless corpse.

“Ha—?”

But Izumi still had her head. Reading the line of fire, she had placed the Amygla’s blade in between. The cosmic sheet of metal had endured the gunshot without damage.

“I’m sorry,” Izumi told the piratess, opening her guard, “but you’re about four centuries too late to surprise me with a toy like that. Thanks for the tale—and here comes the climax!”

Switching to a two-handed grip, Izumi dashed up the stairs, readying herself for the kill.

“Tch!” Sai-Lin clicked her tongue and retreated up the stairs with a nimble hop, flicking the gun to the side. “Reload!”

The engraving on the pistol’s side flashed faintly, and she aimed again.

“Okay, that’s new,” Izumi remarked in surprise. She interrupted her charge to roll sideways and landed painfully on her shoulder, a blink of an eye before another gunshot struck the stairs.

Izumi got up and closed in again. Firing one more time and missing, Sai-Lin found herself cornered at the top of the staircase. But she had another trick in her sleeve—quite literally so. She threw away her pipe and pulled something from her wide haori sleeve—a thin, weighed string, or a thread, which she threw high above her. The weighed end of the string wrapped around a support pillar on the third floor. The other end was secured to her reinforced sash, and she leapt off the stairway railing, letting the thread carry her. Reeling in with a hidden mechanism, she soared, kicking off the support pillar to boost her ascent, displaying unexpected agility for a whorehouse manager.

Izumi watched Sai-Lin’s aerial escape, stunned. She wasn’t going to catch up by the stairs, even with five-fold acceleration.

The situation had turned trickier than expected. Unable to tell how many shots the gun frame could endure, or how much mana the woman was able to generate in a session, Izumi could only work under the assumption her opponent had unlimited ammunition. She would have to give up on looking for a quick finish, and take a more cautious approach—which was not the ideal situation for her.

After a week, she was beginning to feel the effects of overusing magic. Keeping the runes on for too long burned her nerves and filled her body with a searing, itchy discomfort that was fast driving her out of her mind. It was like sitting in a too hot sauna, unable to leave. Cold air or water didn’t remove the sensation, only proper rest did.

But this was not the time to hang back and relax.

If only she could take down the woman in crimson, the leader of the mob, it would end. The whole ordeal would finally end—so she believed. Stopping after coming this far was simply not an option.

“Damn it! Gram!”

Evoking the Rune of Power, Izumi jumped as high up as she could, and stabbed her sword through the wide support pillar holding up the second floor. The sword sank into the red-painted wood like a hot knife into butter. Employing her weapon for a lever, Izumi propelled herself higher, her momentum tearing off the blade in the process. By cutting into the wall again higher up, she prolonged her flight and flipped over onto the second floor balustrade, bringing her again on the level with the enemy, although with no small exertions on her part.

“Keh!” It wasn’t all effortless for Sai-Lin either. She had planned to acquire a greater respite, yet the enemy was already coming at her again. To buy herself more time to catch her breath, she brought fingers to her lips and whistled.

In response, several doors along the northern aisle burst open. Out from the rooms came no surprised customers, but corsairs dressed in black, ninja-like outfits, wearing wooden masks, curved daggers in their hands. Asking no questions, all of them charged at the intruder with manic zeal, shouting loud war cries.

“What the heck, the whole town’s here!” Izumi cried. “I thought the place was closed!”

The situation was not quite as bad for her as it seemed.

The threat of the gun by far outweighed the lightly armed minions, who posed no real threat to Izumi with her magic. Recognizing this, the summoned champion leapt off the balustrade without a second thought and cast herself among the crowd of attackers in a round somersault, taking herself out of the line of fire. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she cleared herself room with a wide full circle cut. From there, she proceeded to mow down the aggressors one by one, while always making sure there was someone between herself and Sai-Lin’s gun.

Once their numbers were thinned and the survivors pulled back, Izumi slipped past the remnants and charged again at the leader.

“Damned monster!” Sai-Lin groaned and fired another round, but Izumi deflected the shot with her blade and kept running. Shoving the pistol under her sash, Sai-Lin threw herself off the railing and cast her wire again, fleeing from Izumi's reach to the above floor.

“Playing hard to get, are we?” Izumi looked after the woman, catching her breath.

She put her sword away, hopped on the railing, and briefly gauged the distance to the third floor. It was a bit over twenty feet higher. Perhaps close enough.

Gathering focus, Izumi turned and sprinted at the nearby support pillar and continued to run up its wide side. With Gram in effect, she made it as high as six steps, before gravity began to overpower what little inertia was there. Judging she was as high as she would get, Izumi kicked off hard, directing all power to one leg. She misjudged the output, somewhat. A loud crack sounded from the wooden pillar as it broke under her heel. Izumi went flying in a wide arc away from the footing, very barely catching hold of the corner of the floor above and was left dangling, surprised by the support’s frailty. It seemed the building was rather old, and had grown brittle when exposed to the damp sea air. The fractured pillar continued to stand, the weight of the two halves barely holding them together, but the edge of the floor above could be seen slightly nodding.

Looking at it, Izumi had an idea.

“Oh. This could be a real eureka moment.”

She hurried to pull herself up and climbed onto the handrail to confront the wall-crawling hostess again. Looking increasingly pressured, Sai-Lin unraveled her thread with a wave of her arm, and hurried to draw her pistol on Izumi again.

Instead of charging straight in, Izumi raised fingers to her lips and whistled. It was not a magic trick but something even a child could do, and she managed to produce a sound very similar to what Sai-Lin had done but a moment ago.

Sai-Lin looked back at her, stunned, before realizing what the woman was aiming for.

“No!”

Too late. There were pirates hiding also in the third floor guest rooms. They now charged out to confront the enemy, stepping right above the broken pillar. Hundreds of additional pounds thrown onto the already failing support made it give away at once. The pillar snapped and a solid fifty-foot segment of the unsupported floor above it tore off the surroundings, and fell down onto the second floor, which held the load no better.

Izumi dashed along the railing to safety, but Sai-Lin didn’t give up easily either. Even as she began to fall, she fought her terror, restrained her nerves, and launched her thread a third time, accurately securing a hold on the fourth floor. Reeling in the thread through bleeding fingers, she climbed, climbed like Kandata along Buddha’s silvery thread, seeking her way out of Hell.

But Izumi was ahead of the piratess now. She sprinted for the corner staircase and reached the above floor faster than her opponent. There were no more guest rooms or hiding rogues there or above. In the northern wall were glass doors leading to a wide balcony overlooking the city. Not even a royal regiment could have pushed the Confederate captain this far, yet here she was. With great effort, Sai-Lin climbed onto the fourth floor balustrade, holding onto the remains of her dignity the best she could, though she was no longer able to hide her labored breathing.

Leaning on her sword, Izumi waited for Sai-Lin to get up to the floor, remove the thread, and gather herself, only further enraging the latter.

“Take your time.”

Sai-Lin glared at the woman, catching her breath and growled,

“Don’t you…dare...look down on me——!”

Instead of reaching for the pistol in her sash, Sai-Lin lifted her bare hand high up and smacked her palm on the floor, releasing the magical art she was most confident in.

A great cloud of mist burst out from the black boards under her, quickly expanding to cover the caster and her surroundings. The vapor rolled on, thick and opaque, spilling over the edge to the floors below with seemingly limitless supply. It was not perhaps very advanced sorcery, but still a trick with many uses for offense and defense alike.

Yet, as universally effective and intimidating as the combination of guns and smokescreen was, it was nothing the opponent hadn’t seen before.

Taking a tight two-handed grip of her sword, her limbs still powered by Gram, Izumi cut. Dragging the weapon on its side like an oversized fan, she blew away the mist between them. A force like a gale from an open window pushed the veil aside, by enough to reveal its hapless caster, who had yet to even draw her primary weapon.

“Impossible…!” Sai-Lin gasped and wavered.

In a few speedy steps, Izumi was in front of her and raised the great blade over her left shoulder.

The game of tag was doubtless decided.

But the fear of death ever for a close companion, Sai-Lin yet retained mastery of herself. Enduring the threat of the sword above her, she pulled her gun and pointed the barrel at Izumi’s gut.

The only way for the warrior to avoid mutual destruction was by interrupting her deathblow to evade. With her reflexes, she could still make it. The gambit might not earn victory for Sai-Lin, but so long as it prolonged her life even by a short while, it was surely worth it.

What else had her life been, but always bartering for another brief extension?

But her calculations failed here, once more.

Izumi made no effort to dodge, against all logic. Her elbows started to come down. She had chosen death. No more extensions. This was it, the final end. Terror gripping her heart, Sai-Lin squeezed the trigger. Another gunshot rang out, but it did nothing slow down the descent of the great blade.

The surprises didn’t end there, however.

Against expectations, Izumi didn’t go for the kill. Not cutting straight through, she used the flat side of the blade and flung Sai-Lin to the side, through the balcony doors on their right.

The force of the blow sent the woman in red plummeting through the glass and wood, and against the flimsy balcony railing, which gave away under her. By abandoning her gun, Sai-Lin managed to catch hold of a broken stump of a spindle, and so was left hanging.

She looked down. She couldn’t make out the street from this height. It was raining and the ground level was veiled, beyond the nightly, blurred darkness, in a dense fog of nature’s own making. All the nearby buildings were but vague shadows in the haze.

There was no part of her that didn’t hurt, but she had to climb back up. Live.

However, before she could even begin the effort, Sai-Lin saw something impossible. The unknown woman stepped out into the rain and came to stand over to the hanging villain, the gunshot wound in her side already good as healed, faint green light shining through the holes in her coat.

“Well done,” Izumi told the pirate lady, crouching on the edge of the balcony. “I had faith you’d make it. It’s rare to see people as stubborn to live as you are.”

Sai-Lin could only quietly laugh at the absurd situation.

“Why…?” she asked. “Why didn’t you cut me?”

“Because I have questions for you,” Izumi replied. She leaned over, gripped Sai-Lin by the lapels of her kimono, and stood, lifting the woman up in the air. “As much as I’d love to end it quick and easy—you had to go mention something about a superior. So is there still someone left above you in the food chain? How many more are there, exactly? Tell me: who do I have to cut to finish this, for once and for all? Because it’s starting to seem to me like there’s no end at all.”

At the question, a mischievous smile returned to Sai-Lin’s lips.

“Rest assured,” she amiably answered. “There could only ever be one above myself.”

“And that is?”

“Of course, it is the boss of all rogues, the King of Pirates—Cartognam!”

“Right,” Izumi listlessly murmured. The name didn’t mean anything to her. “And where might I find his majesty?”

“Where all the Confederacy gathers,” Sai-Lin explained. “At our humble sanctuary on the island of Harm’s Haven. But you might want to hurry, or you'll miss him. You see, even as we speak, my King prepares to sail off to a battle, against the joint navy of Luctretz and the Empire. Finding him after that might get a little hard.”

“Another war with the Empire?” Izumi repeated. “Can’t these people pass one day without trying to conquer somebody?”

“To be fair, they had very little choice in this case. After my King went and kidnapped the Empress, that is.”

“What——?” This time, Izumi was quite sincerely surprised.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Sai-Lin spoke with a smile, observing her reaction. “It’s the whole reason why my colorful colleagues are now hunted left and right. Were you not one of theirs then? You mean, they didn't pay you to come after me? Now, now, isn’t this quaint? A most surprising development indeed!”

In silence, Izumi averted her gaze. All of a sudden, she was filled by a terrible sense of unease and foreboding, and felt her heartbeat heavy in her chest.

“So? What comes next?” Sai-Lin inquired. “Have I answered all of your questions? If that is the case, would you mind letting me down now? This is a rather awkward position to be in, and the rain does terrible things to my makeup. If you’re not here specifically to kill me, then I dare say you have more to gain from having myself for an ally instead. I happen to know the way to Harm’s Haven better than the back of my hand, and have a most excellent ship at my command. If you so wish, we can set sail tonight and reach the sanctuary by dawn. How about it? It’s not a bad deal, is it?”

Izumi shook off her momentary confusion and looked back up at the villain.

“I’d love to say yes,” she answered. “But I’m actually a little insulted if you think I'm just that stupid. As you can see, I’m not a man. Honeyed words and pretty eyes will get you far with me, but that's pushing it.”

“Which is to say...?” Sai-Lin asked, innocently tilting her head.

“Drop the act. I’m holding your full weight, so I can tell. Your left side’s heavier than your right side—your left arm, to be specific. You have a blade in your sleeve. The moment I give you a footing, I’ll have it between my ribs, no doubt. That doesn’t seem like such a great deal to me anymore.”

At her words, Sai-Lin let out a hollow chuckle.

She turned her face up to the dark sky, the cold rain washing her face and quietly spoke,

“We humans truly are wretched creatures. Show us a glimpse of something better and we cling to it with all that we have, forgetting who we are, thinking we could be something we’re not.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Izumi asked.

“——FUCK YOU, that’s what!”

With a quick twist of her hips, Sai-Lin kicked Izumi in the head. Izumi lost her grip and the woman fell from her hands. In a flash, the pirate was swallowed by the darkness and mist wallowing dozens of feet below, under which only the roughly cobbled street lay. And then, without a sound, she was gone. She passed as she lived, on her own terms; a pirate to the end, a woman to the end, and one who valued liberty higher than many others.

For a slow, muted moment, Izumi was left staring after the vanished enemy in the rain, dazed and empty inside, rubbing the side of her head. Then, she turned and went back in. She returned to the ground floor, drawing the Rune of Ignition on the walls with her finger as she passed.

In the lobby, the lone warrior found the aged receptionist seated behind the desk, in the same spot as previously seen.

“Still here?” Izumi stopped and asked.

“And where else would I be?” the old lady defiantly returned. “The Lotus has been my home for half a century! I stand and fall together with it!”

“I see. Well, goodbye then, grandma. It means you’re going to be ashes in another minute.”

“...Oh well.” The receptionist quickly got up. “I was looking for a change of scenery, anyway.”

“By the way,” Izumi spoke to the woman again on their way out. “You wouldn’t happen to know a ship that takes passengers for godless sums of gold? No questions asked.”

“…I might know a few, tentatively speaking,” the old lady answered. “And where would this passenger of yours be headed?”

Izumi stopped on the street outside, invoked Brandt, and then turned back to the old receptionist,

“Some place called ‘Harm’s Haven’. Does that ring a bell?”