September 18, 1882
The room was still.
Dim light from the wall sconces stretched across the ceiling.
Antonio lay on his back, one arm resting beneath his head.
The other held the envelope.
His fingers turned it slightly, the paper catching the faint light. No markings. No seal that stood out. Nothing that demanded attention.
And yet—
It was the only thing that could lead him closer to the whole truth.
His gaze lingered on it.
Longer than necessary.
'Could this Gray Watcher guy be the killer? No, I can't jump to conclusions too soon.'
The material felt different. Not the kind used for ordinary correspondence.
Antonio ran his thumb along the edge.
'If this murder was orchestrated, then who could be the killer? A hired assassin? But it has to be someone from inside the mansion. Could Cedric be deceiving me?' Questions started rising in his mind the longer he looked at the black envelope.
He exhaled quietly, letting his arm fall slightly as he continued to look at it.
An invitation.
Or a test.
His grip tightened by a fraction.
Antonio lifted the envelope slightly, bringing it closer.
Studying it one last time.
As if expecting it to reveal something on its own.
It didn't.
"…Right. Staring won't do anything," he said quietly.
He removed the seal without further hesitation.
Antonio slid the contents out slowly.
His eyes lowered—
***
To The Unknown Receiver,
The black envelope does not contain a letter of invitation. It contains a greeting symbolizing that you have been chosen to be a part of the Veiled Conclave.
This council scouts talents like you.
People like you.
Minds like you.
But there are certain rules that you must follow, or you will face the consequences.
Whenever you attend this council, you must always wear a mask. Be as fancy as you wish, but remember to cover your entire face, because if your identity is revealed, you're only making things harder for yourself. You are not allowed to use your real name in the council. If you reveal your name even once, you will not receive further invitations from the Veiled Conclave. We have no need for people who cannot keep simple secrets. You are to reveal your identity only after you have settled on a deal with another person, and only to that person—or when you are in the presence of an executive of the Veiled Conclave. If, by any chance, you do not wish to join the council, then do not attempt to report us. There will be no benefit for you. If you want to decline the request, please send another letter wrapped in a black envelope with your name on it to the Ebon Ruins.
The place of gathering always changes. This time, the gathering will be held in the Painter Alley, Velmora Hall, on 21 September.
Yours sincerely,
Veiled Conclave
***
Antonio stared at the letter for a few moments.
Thinking.
'Veiled Conclave? This case was never about murder, was it? It just keeps getting more and more complex. Shit… can I even solve this at this point?'
"…Hah."
Antonio let out a sigh as he got up from his bed and tucked the letter into the drawer beside him before locking it with a key.
"I am going to be here for a long while. No, wait—could this be my new reality? No, no. I shouldn't jump to conclusions. The first thing I got after coming to this world is this goddamn case."
Antonio sat at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, one hand holding his head as he looked down.
"But something is different about this world. Whether it be the people or the atmosphere itself."
Antonio closed his eyes, as if searching for the right words.
"It feels real."
"Whether it be the people or the world itself."
"It doesn't feel like they're being controlled."
"It doesn't feel like they're programmed to give specific answers."
"But I can't be too sure yet. I have yet to learn more about this world… but who cares? Today is my day off. I should enjoy it for once. I am rich now anyway," Antonio said as he lay back on his bed with a relaxed smile.
"Maybe I should visit more places in the city. All I know about this city is from Antonio's perspective."
Antonio smiled slightly as he continued.
"Now, let's look from Noctis's perspective, shall we?"
Antonio got up and changed into suitable outdoor clothes—black pants, a plain white shirt, and a stylish long coat.
Tugging the revolver behind his back, he informed the butler that he would be back by evening and left on foot.
'Well, it would be pretty refreshing to take a walk through the city rather than taking a carriage.'
Antonio walked for a while, looking around.
Footsteps layered over one another along the cobbled streets, voices of people filled the air.
One could tell at a single glance that this was a busy city.
Hands in his coat pockets, shoulders relaxed, he walked through the bustling streets.
His gaze drifted as he moved.
Storefronts lined the street in neat succession, each carrying its own character. A tailor's shop with neatly pressed coats displayed behind glass. A bookshop with its door left open. A café spilling warm light onto the pavement, the scent of roasted beans lingering just long enough to be noticed.
'It really seems the same as those final paintings in the Vexwood Mansion. I should've observed them in greater detail. Maybe I could've found a clue or two about this case. Ah, well—whatever.'
People sat inside—talking, laughing, arguing over things that held no weight beyond the moment.
A restaurant further ahead carried a sharper presence—voices louder, utensils clinking, waiters weaving through narrow spaces with practiced ease.
His gaze shifted again as he passed a row of smaller shops. Trinkets, fabrics, tools—things that existed without meaning beyond their use.
It was a breath of fresh air for Antonio—that much was certain.
Noctis hadn't gotten a moment of peace like this ever since he had entered the Vexwood Mansion. So, all he wanted to do was enjoy it.
A flower shop stood along the corner, its display spilling outward onto the street. Fresh blooms arranged in neat bundles—reds, whites, soft yellows—all the colors one could hope for.
People moved around it.
Some stopping.
Some passing.
One staying.
Antonio's gaze fixed.
"…Austin?" Antonio said, furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes.
Austin stood near the front, talking with the flower vendor.
"Can I get a bouquet of daffodils?" Austin asked with a smile.
"Ah, yes, of course, sir. I'll be right back." The vendor stepped inside.
"…Didn't expect to find you here," Antonio said as he approached.
Austin glanced up, caught mid-thought.
"…Antonio? Ah, I mean—Sir!"
"It's fine. We're not in the office anyway," Antonio said with a soft chuckle.
A pause.
Then Austin looked back at the flowers.
"I see. Yeah, well… didn't expect you either," he said with a small smile.
The vendor returned with the bouquet.
"Here is your bouquet, sir—" Her gaze shifted. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't notice you."
"It's fine. I'm here to buy flowers anyway. I just saw a friend of mine and came to say hi. Please continue."
"Ah, okay."
Austin briefly glanced at Antonio, surprised, but composed himself quickly.
They began walking down the street together.
"Well, I didn't know you liked flowers."
"Ah, it's not for me. It's for my grandma. She likes them quite a lot."
"I see. Daffodils, huh. Reminds me of myself."
"In what way exactly, sir?"
"Not in a good way, so let's leave it at that."
"Okay… but I didn't expect you to be knowledgeable about these things."
"Well, I was quite familiar with them in the past."
"Oh, like growing a garden?"
"…Yeah, something like that."
"Oh, now that we've met, would you mind me showing you a place?"
"What kind of place are we talking about?"
"It's just a restaurant I wanted to show you, but since it's hidden in a back alley, I wasn't sure if you'd agree."
Antonio thought for a moment.
"Well, I don't mind. Lead the way."
"Then, please follow me."
Austin guided him through several streets until they reached a narrow alley.
"Is it this one?" Antonio asked, unsure.
"Ah, it may look like it, but the restaurant is just ahead."
"I… see," Antonio said hesitantly.
They walked in.
The alley was dark despite it being daytime—and dirty for a place that supposedly housed a restaurant.
"Are you really sure about this?" Antonio asked.
"It's right ahead, sir. Look!" Austin replied, a drop of sweat sliding down his face.
As Antonio looked forward—
Click.
The sound echoed from behind. A sound that he was very familiar with.
In an instant, a gun was pressed against his head.
By the person he had trusted the most in this world.
Antonio's hands trembled, but he clenched them into fists, hiding it.
"What's the meaning of this, Austin?" Antonio asked firmly.
"Who are you?" Austin asked coldly.
"What do you—"
"You are not Antonio Holmes, are you?"
Noctis's eyes widened. His heart raced.
'How did he know? I knew his behaviour was off from the start—but how did he know? Did I make it too obvious? But no one would assume possession just because someone acts differently.'
"Why do you think I am not Antonio?"
"Oh, cut the crap. You are nothing like him. You haven't acted like him or behaved like him even once… or done what he was supposed to do."
His voice turned colder with each word.
'If he's asking like this… does that mean he knows about possession? Transmigration? But how? There was no mention of such a phenomenon in this worl—'
"Will you answer already? Or do you want your brain splattered on the floor?"
Noctis gritted his teeth.
Then—
A thought struck him.
The only possibility.
"Austin… are you… someone similar? Someone like me?"