The two walked through the crowd in the hopes of reaching an area less populated. Zigzagging, then walking straight, then zigzagging again, their pattern of movement was a haphazard series of hesitation and moving in seemingly all directions possible.

Camille, who now unknowingly tightened both of her hands in frustration, felt a vein bulge on her forehead.

Why the hell are there so many people here?

Consciously, Camille was aware that there had been the same amount of people as there always were.

Dumbasses have too many kids these days... She complained, knowing fully well just how stupid it was to blame people for having children and that the population had, in fact, decreased over recent years.

"..."

Great. Accepting that fact just made her feel like an even bigger dumbass than before. Camille, who had begun to grow increasingly frustrated, exhaled a forceful sigh.

Despite having spent a good few minutes meandering through the crowds, the two still made little to no progress. On the path to seemingly nowhere, Camille was forced to reassess their current location.

Her original plan was to mindlessly wander and stumble across something that caught her interest.

Now that clarity had struck again, Camille understood that it was a dumb plan. Thinking about it more carefully, a lot of her ideas and plans upon arriving here were quite stupid.

For a second, Camille wondered why.

To answer her question, she directed her gaze to the people around her.

When she thought about it, the natural conclusion became clear.

In the first place, Camille was not someone suited for public settings. On a day to day scale, she was a firm believer in having few friends and a large number of enemies. Naturally, while she did not view the strangers around her as the latter, Camille could not bring herself to perceive them as people either.

Simply put, Camille currently registered these people as obstacles.

Looking all around for anywhere to go, she spotted a glimmer of hope in the distance. A shining light amidst the heaps of figurative trash and useless stores, she immediately increased her pace.

Soon enough, the two had found their way through the labyrinth of flesh.

Stopping just outside a medium-sized store that was evidently quite busy from the sound and the sheer number of customers. It was a place that could be considered by most to be a niche or quaint. Visible through its windowed displays was a series of costumes, each one fashioned after a fictional character. To the inhabitants of this area, this place was otherwise known as a 'cosplay store'.

"Hey, boy." She greeted firmly. "You have some money I can spend, right?"

Molok, in line with his good nature, nodded. Having anticipated a similar response, Camille's lips curled up into a malicious grin.

Feeling that something was amiss, Molok, with all the analytical prowess he could muster, stared at Camille.

Up until this point, that lady had been more than cooperative.

But being cooperative did not necessarily mean a complete lack of deviousness or ulterior motives. Of course, while he wanted to confide fully in the person who he believed was innocent, something about it was still off.

"Forgive me, but." Molok interrupted, breaking her trance. "Are you planning to shop for leisure?"

Although he thought that was the case, Camille's sincere expression made it seem otherwise.

"Trust me. Buying cosplay is very important to our escape and survival."

Said with visible pride and a smile on her face, Molok was forced to concede what uncertainty remained in his heart.

"Very well then, let us proceed." He replied, his words coated by a tone of approval.

Now that she had received her validation, Camille dragged him to the entrance.

The sound of a bell rang as the duo walked in.

Camille, who had not frequented such an establishment for what seemed to be an eternity, stared wide-eyed.

Presented with an outwardly infinite number of metal racks, each with an outwardly infinite number of clothes that hung on them, and with an outwardly infinite number of aesthetics, Camille was enraptured.

The sight of all these options had enticed her inner hobbyist.

After such a long period of withdrawal from such affairs, Camille was of the opinion that it was time to go back in.

This cosplay thing is really popular, huh.

As if to affirm himself of his own aesthetic preferences, Molok pressed the fabric of his robes between his fingers.

Were such interests the common pastime of civilians?

Such was the musings of the boy who frankly had no clue.

Perhaps yes, or perhaps it was not. There was no real way for him to know. Molok, who traversed life from one mission to the next, had little time to participate in such affairs.

The affairs that included the hobbies or pastimes of civilians, the boy, felt that he was not one suited to judge.

That was the stance he had chosen to take in regards to most things.

To remain a passive observer and merely offer assistance to those in need was all that he required to fulfil the purpose of his existence.

But, on the rare occasion, he would come across an anomaly that would break this routine. An individual or interest, so deeply twisted or removed from the normalcy of common people that even he had to question it.

Of course, the anomaly, in this case, was none other than the woman he had saved.

Over the course of every single one of his 'heroic endeavours', Molok had not once seen someone such as her. Someone who was so quick to adapt and maintain clarity of mind is most common within experienced fighters.

If the information he discovered was correct, Camille could not have been anything but a civilian. A victim to the shenanigans of some powerful individual whose identity and powers still remain a secret. Another unwilling product of the mass awakening of supernatural powers in civilians and a mere pawn caught in a game far beyond her own control.

That was the natural conclusion he would reach for any other person.

Camille, in the first place, though, could not be considered any other person.

Compared to Molok's previous savings, that woman displayed a number of characteristics that revealed her to be an anomaly.

Among other things, Camille was levelheaded enough to run and relocate without fear. Energetic enough to enjoy herself while on the run from those out to kill her. And skilled to the point where she had even dared to challenge a magician.

Staring emptily at the vast selection of clothes around him, Molok became oblivious to his surroundings. Wondering whether Camille was normal or if it was himself who had misjudged the conventional standards for normalcy, he grasped the bull mask underneath his robes.

"Boy, come here!" called Camille from across the store.

Cut off from his reverie, Molok followed to the source of his summon.

It took a few moments, but he now understood why Camille called him.

Arching an eyebrow, her own intoxicated sense of thrill was plain to see.

Two separate articles of clothing were in her hands. Each one as exotic as the other. The first was a gothic-styled dress coloured in bright pink and the other a full-body bear outfit.

Their respective sizes taken into consideration, there was no question as to who they were meant for.

"What do you think?" Camille asked.

There was a resonance of joy in those words that made him not want to disappoint her. Whether it be a joy of purity or one of perversion was of little relevance to him. But even so, neither of those were probable options.

"My apologies, but it is better if I do not swap my clothing," Molok answered.

"Oh, are you sure about that?" Persisting in her objective, Camille leaned in closer. The distance between them was now shortened by a significant margin. Her face, which betrayed all the inner complexities of her being, showed just how carefree she was.

Although he was previously unsure, Molok now realized something significant.

"Yes. It is not because I am unwilling to wear them, but rather because it would inconvenience my magic."

In accordance with his own principles, Molok did not lie. His magic, which was mainly condensed inside his masks, each held a convenient place inside his robes. One that would not be easily transferred to a spacious dress, or much less a bear suit, Molok nonetheless apologized for the inconvenience.

"If you say so." Camille agreed, ending her pursuit with a sigh and curl of her lips.

Molok found himself a bit taken aback that their discussion was already over. From the passion in her words, Molok assumed that her insistence would have lingered for at least a good minute or so.

It was almost as if she had never banked on approval in the first place.

Yet, if she did not propose those clothes out of necessity, then what other reason could there have been?

Working backwards, Molok thought that a key detail was missing.

To begin with, he had found her through tracking Aedi.

An eccentric magician and a woman he had been acquainted with prior, Aedi was a person that lived solely for the thrills. For that spike of adrenaline and that teeter on the edge of death, Aedi's bounties primarily consisted of similarly rewarding missions.

Missions against the likes of the minions of the Thirty One Superiors themselves, or grand vampires of more than hundreds of years old, would someone such of such power really go out to interrogate a bunch of newbies?

A bunch of people who only so recently awakened to their supernatural abilities?

Should his instinct be right, the probability of such an outcome was extremely small.

Whatmore, their conversation in the stairwell didn't add up either.

'You've become a target. And unless you either kill all the bounty hunters in this city or catch the one responsible, you're going to die.'

Kill? Why was that abhorrent fate being thrust onto Camille? In the bounty where it had been so clearly inscribed, the objective was to capture and interrogate any supernaturally powered beings.

Not kill, not torture, but capture.

And as far as Molok was concerned, summoning the wrath of Ra and shooting out explosive snakes wasn't exactly a method of non-lethal neutralization.

But at the same time, if she really wanted to, she could've just wiped her out and destroyed and just completely exploded and...

Ahh. This is all too much.

Nothing made sense at this point.

Whoever Aedi worked for definitely wasn't a part of the organization that had issued the reward, sure.

Though that was only one answer among many others.

Among other things, there was still the mystery of who did issue the reward. Which in itself was yet another question that spawned an innumerable amount of possibilities alone.

Too many.

There were too many possibilities that spawned from that sheer thought alone. Whether it be The Priory of Sion, The Templars, or one of the many houses and clans of vampires or mages, there was no conceivable answer.

Ultimately, Molok only knew one thing for certain.

Targetting Camille was never a question of money.

Molok then heard the voice of Camille beckon him out. Now adorning a cheetah mask and a similarly styled cape, it took some thought to figure out who she was. Though many things were still left unanswered, he did not need to find the answer now.

Peacefully walking out of the shop, the two would then browse a few more of the shops in this area. Touring the bakery, weapons store, and even the convenience store of all places, the duo eventually ended their journey at a cafe.

Offered a moment of reprieve, Molok sat silently to himself. Watching Camille venture off into the bathroom with her goods, only to return with none of them in hand.

There really was no shortage of mysteries today, huh?

Unnecessary as it was to dwell on it for no reason, in particular, Molok did so anyway. Steadfast as he was in his mission, surely a moment's reprieve wouldn't change much, right?

Well. There was no real point to it. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was if he could save Camille.

Should push come to shove, Molok was sure to defeat Aedi. After all, he had one final ace up his sleeve that she had yet to see. A surprise mask that was sure to turn the tides of battle and bring in justice. Whether it be at the expense of his own life or not was of little relevance.

To save another was a victory in itself.

That was the future he had decided.