The Madam listened to Rem’s briefing and summarized.

“In conclusion, someone stole a dangerous text in Shyme Enma’s possession and started the murder spree to summon a World Enemy to raise an undead in the middle of Venistalis. And you think a member of the prestigious 33 Stars and royal-mages are in on the ploy.”

“Yes,” Rem confirmed. He glanced at the Madam’s carpet. He had an inkling the carpet was the Phantasian Valley Tiger’s fur. He knew this species because Cytortia once said its fur had a unique luster, fetching up to several millions. As a pauper, the word millions meant a lot.

“It sound like a plot from a B-Movie,” Aleksei Martynov commented. “How are you so sure, cugino?”

“Because someone bothered sneaking into the territory belonging to the most dangerous clan in this continent,” Rem said. “It risk too much. If I am in the mastermind’s shoes, a move like that must worth the crackdown. That mean he must know how to read the text and the murder spree in Venistalis tell us he is using it here.”

Martynov nodded and supported Rem’s suspicion.

“You are right. He would have to start a month and a half ago at the earliest. Which mean we already cross the body count of 45.”

“That left 65 lives,” the Madan said grimly.

“Which bring us to the suspect list,” Rem spoke. “I will be honest. I think Wayward is on the list.”

That caught the Madam by surprise.

“Samael Wayward is flawed, but he doesn’t strike me as the traitorous types,” the Madam said. “That man is one of Grand Empire’s strongest men. He is only second to the Five Generals with more military accomplishments than anyone. He also achieved the First-Wave title as a Captain of the royal mage at 25.”

Rem huffed. Ever since the party, Wayward’s images was bouncing inside Rem’s head. The information gathering he and Luxinna performed together confirmed exactly why.

“He is impressive. Impressive enough that he never married, owns no house, rents the same flat from his grunt days to Captain, have tighter social-circle than a teenage mafia, have no personal subscription, and have no life insurance,” Rem summed up his point. “Madam, if that isn’t the behavior of the person who plans to leave the moment an opportunity arrive, I think he might have a plan to kill himself.”

Martynov secretly cheered. Once again, Remus Breaker’s deductive instinct didn’t let them down.

Rem didn’t finish just yet.

“Assuming Wayward got compromised from his graduation day, the entire royal-mages automatically dropped from my reliability list.” Rem said. “We also don’t know about nobility’s involvement.”

The Madam realized a certain point.

“Shouldn’t I be one of your suspects? Why do you come to me?”

“There is a possibility, but it is unlikely,” Rem told the Madam. “You are the one with the most to lose once the ritual kick into high-gear. Your revenue depends on the working class being alive, healthy, and happy. You already have a firm grasp on Grand Empire’s nobility and economy. An upset in the status quo will only translate to a loss. There are no benefit for you to destroy Venistalis. Even if you want to kill the city, you only need to blow up the economy to end Venistalis.”

Martynov nodded. Rem’s point coincide with Antonio Argentum’s assessment. The friendly, plump, middle-age woman in front of them was in the trustworthy book because if she wasn’t, they would already be having some drink in hell. The Russian man grumbled. Rem and the boss got along well because they both share a grim sense of humor.

“And let me guess your second suspect is Orwell Mehest?” The Madam leaned back against the silk sofa stuff with feathers from divine geese. “Why him?”

“Because he is an ass-kisser,” Rem calmly informed. “And a fence-sitter.”

“Good enough,” Martynov agreed.

“Just two reasons,” the Madam said. “Is it the Mafia thing?”

“Madam Marmel,” Martynov said. “In our line of business, an ass-kisser only come to lick your feet because they want something. And if they lick your ass, you can guarantee their tongue won’t be licking your ass alone.”

“Yes, and fence-sitter are the worse because they want you to brawl and reap the glory with the winning side. Let me ask the obvious question, how did Orwell Mehest become a 33 Stars with that two luggages?”

…

“Cytortia, I told you I am sorry,” Chuang tried to placate her junior sister.

Cytortia tried to clamp down the surge of elation rising inside her. Three months ago, she would jump up with joy to hear that sentence coming out of Chuang Tianshang’s mouth. But sadly for the Heavenly Daughter of Fire, Rem was rubbing on Cytortia. The nature goddess was wiser nowadays. She learned that her senior sister only pretend to be sorry because she wanted something.

“Chuang, you are only here because you want me to help you deal with Tai Hua,” Cytortia said. “Action proves more than word, and your action all those years ago give you no leverage to stand on.”

“I told you I was stupid! I change!”

Cytortia checked the map and the location Rem scribbled on the map. They were in the right place. A street decorated with flowers shed with bystander passing each other during the busy days. Cytortia looked at the small coffee shop open inside a multistoried shopping centre. Venistalis' Earth-quarter blended the city design of the modern-day Akihabara with classical European-style bricks frameworks. It was an architectural feat made possible with only magic and metal reinforcement.

Lovely Coffee Shop was like many of the street coffee-house found along the street of Earth. The appealing glass window allowed the customer to peer inside the brightly color interior. Cytortia looked at the young barista who was expertly mixing coffee inside the brown wood workstation. The barista flipped five lattes onto the wooden tray without a drop of coffee on his uniform. Meanwhile, a girl in her sixteen was rounding back to the delivered the new order to a consumer sitting on the circular laminated wooden table. Cytortia briefly looked around the room and she spotted her best friend sitting beside the farthest sunflower-color window sill.

Cytortia nodded and opened the yellow door, shining with a relatively fresh paint job. Tai Hua followed her closely, curious about this meeting between the two 33 Stars. Suddenly, Cytortia briefly stopped walking to help a tripping five years-old, worsening Chuang’s increasing impatience.

Finally, Cytortia sat down in front of her friend.

Shyme Enma dropped the menu down and complained.

“Why did he pick this place? It is goddamn noisy.”

Cytortia once again got the stark reminder of why they hung out in a different social circle. Rem might be mean, but when even she could see he was more caring to fellow man than her friends and senior sisters ever was.

Which begged a question about what kind of social circle Rem hung around. Maybe Rem could introduce some of his friend. She bet they were better than 75% of the people in her childhood.

“He said it reminds him of what is important,” Cytortia looked out of the window and saw the people living their lives on the street. “Seeing this view, I think he is right.”

Chuang and Shyme glanced outside to the same place Cytortia did.

“What were you looking at?” Chuang questioned.

“I only saw people mucking around on the street,” Shyme stated what she thought was the obvious.

Cytortia noticed the woman sprinting on the street, worrying that she would arrive late to work. Her eyes caught sight of a boy running into a young officer looking over the street and spilling his ice cream. She watched that same guard reached down, comforted the boy, and lend him money for a replacement scoop. The boy’s mother arrived later with his brother. The guard waved as the boy and his brother thanked him. Two streets away, a youthful girl was helping an elderly lady restocked her shops.

Everyone was smiling, and that fact overshadowed all the obstacles in front of her.

“No point in telling you guys what I see,” Cytortia shook her head sadly. “You wouldn’t get it if I explain.”

She handed Shyme the file.

“Here, we translated it,” Cytortia slid the folder across the table.

“Thank you,” Shyme caught the folder. “How did you do it?”

Cytortia smiled.

“We have an excellent cryptographer and archeologist.”

Shyme put two and two together.

“There are more of you?” the beast girl asked.

Cytortia gestured toward Chuang and made a shushed noise.

Suddenly, a pubescent girl came toward the group with a book.

“Are you Miss Shyme Enma?”

“Yes,” Shyme answered woodenly.

“Can I have your autograph?”

””No”” Shyme and Chuang replied without even turning to look at the young girl.

The girl looked like she was about to cry, but luckily for her, a saint was also sitting on the table.

“You want an autograph?” Cytortia said. “Do you want mine?”

The girl suddenly noticed Cytortia.

“Are you lady Cytortia? The weakest 33 Stars.”

“I might be last, but that doesn’t mean I am the weakest,” Cytortia corrected the girl. Her face red with shame. “And those upper-level of 33 Stars like those two are a total meanie.”

“A meanie?” The eight-year-old girl said.

“Hey, hey, don’t tell the kid that,” Chuang tried to do the damage control but her word had zero sway on the girl.

“That right a meanie,” Cytortia grabbed the pen and clipboard. “So greedy they wouldn’t give a cutie like you anything—not even an autograph.”

Cytortia signed the book before noticing the title.

“Basic of Fire Spell-Casting,” Cytortia’s eyes lighted up. “You want to be a fire mages little girl.”

“Yes!”

“You will be a great one,” the young goddess said. “Just remember to train your focus too and feel the essence of fire.”

“Essence of fire?”

“Yes, remember how fire feel hot. There are many concepts of hotness. A bonfire, a warm wind, or the steam from a hot spring. If you work those memories into your spell works setup, it will improve your spells. But don’t try this without a supervision, make sure your teacher is nearby before doing an experiment.”

“Thank you, Miss Cytortia!” The girl collected the book Cytortia handed back and ran out excitedly.

Before going out of the shop, the girl looked back at the group, specifically at Chuang and Shyme, and mounted one word.

“Meanie.”

She left, leaving two 33 Stars utterly crushed by an eight-year-old.

“How?” Shyme expressed the face of someone getting crush by a flying pig.

“Why don’t she ask me?” Chuang felt like Cytortia just blasted her to orbit. “I AM A FIRE MAGE!”

Cytortia’s lip trembled with annoyance.

“Crushing a girl’s pedestal like it is nothing and complain later,” Cytortia said. “The boss is right. Your ego need a hammering.”

Shyme noticed one word.

Boss

But Chuang was exploding.

“What is it about my ego!?”

Cytortia huffed.

“Chuang the only thing you are is a killing machine. Your ego should be negligible. And yes, I am done being afraid of your sorry ass. If you move against me, Hal Jordan will go right to Tai Hua and tell her how to win. Shyme can tell you how many plans he has to end you.”

“She wasn’t kidding,” Shyme creeped out.

Chuang looked at the cowering fox-girl.

“Come on, it can’t that bad!”

“You do not understand,” Shyme said. “If you see what is running inside his head, you will kill yourself rather than get captured alive.”

“Coward,” Chuang shot her insult at the paling fox-girl. “Cytortia, I am serious. If Tai Hua win, the entire world will be in danger. The World Enemy is mobilizing.”

“Yeah,” Cytortia said.

“What?” Shyme replied. “What the hell are you talking about”

“Cytortia, there will be a full-blown invasion within-“

“Ten years,” Cytortia said. “Chuang, that is old news.”

Shyme looked quizzically between the two.

“Hold it! When did you two learn this?”

What Shyme said brought one realization to Chuang Tianshang. She looked at the weak shrimp she once had in her palm with a new light.

“You couldn’t discover this on your own. Who told you?”

Cytortia heeded Rem’s lesson on trolling—be cryptically honest.

“My new boss told me.”

“The Alchemical Society?” Chuang recalled the reason Cytortia came to this city. With her lacked of backer and combat strength, she would settle with the benefactor who valued her highly. It what happened last time. Cytortia stayed with the Alchemical Society and stayed out of the 33 Stars’ conflict until the very end, when the Isle of Knowledge led by Elish Mitis took over the Alchemical Society. The Cytortia Chuang knew took her own life rather than becoming Elish’s pet.

That was the event that would happen in nine years.

But this time, destiny was not on her side. A goddess of good already cut destiny’s balls a long time ago.

“No, I am not planning to join any organization, Chuang,” Cytortia said. “I know the World Enemy is coming and I will be there to fight them. You can make war games all you want, but there are no versions of this I will hide and do nothing.”

Shyme and Chuang blinked. Did Cytortia of all people just threaten them?

“Are you talking to us?” Shyme said. “You are talking to us, right?”

“Yes.”

“Shrimp,” Chuang chided. “Think about this carefully. I can give you anything you want. I have resources, techniques, cultivation-manuals, and connections. Once we remove Tai Hua, we will be on top of the 33 Stars list. Even the gods and the ancestors need to treat us respectfully. Up there, we can save the world.”

“Then what? What do you do after you save the world?”

“Rule it benevolently and bring an age of glory to Phantasia.”

Cytortia huffed.

“It all come down to that, isn’t it? You bring world salvation as an excuse to gain more power. The power to force people who can’t fight for themselves to kneel before your glorious image. You want ultimate power to sit on the peak of the world, thinking there will be no opposition. Guess what, Chuang. There will always be people who disagree with you. If you truly want the best for the world, you will want to be free, not under your benevolent mercy. That ultimate power is only a handy tool to cow detractor into silence. What you want is the world rule by fear, but I am not afraid anymore.”

Chuang barely kept herself straight. When did this happen? Everything was wrong. This was not the Cytortia she knew. That girl could only cower. Where did she get all this courage?

“What do you plan to do when they arrived, Shrimp?” Chuang scowled. “If I don’t win this war, someone will. And do you think people like Tai Hua will take the threat seriously?”

Superman is the walking embodiment that nihilism and cynism are for underachieving losers; doing what is right is hard and required a massive personal sacrifice. But I would rather fight to my death than live in the world without hope.

Those were the word he said. The symbol that gave her the courage she never found in herself.

“I don’t care. The type like you never win. When will you learn that self-centered, oppressive tyrants always lose? The only thing you should do is counting the day a Superhero will arrive to nail those World Enemies into the wall.”

Cytortia stood up, ignoring the confused Shyme and the twitching Chuang.

“Oh yeah,” Cytortia remembered something before she left. She tossed a box to Shyme. “Shyme, I bake you some cupcake. Do not share it with the Gorilla there?”

Cytortia turned and left the coffee shop.

“Did she just called me a Gorilla?” said the Heavenly Daughter of Fire, obtusely refusing to believe her mild and plain junior sister just shove an insult to her throat.

Shyme opened the box and swallowed the cupcake slowly, trying to find her baring in this bizarre reality she found herself in.