Evelyn beamed as she cradled the recipe book and seeds. Wanting to get started right away, she carefully adjusted one of the heavy curtains, cracking it just enough to let a sliver of light hit the corner of the room without letting a single ray bounce through to my sensitive skin. She grabbed a small clay pot, gently pressed one of the exotic seeds into the rich soil, and poured a little water over it. Watching her work, it felt like my baby sister was happily cultivating her own little indoor garden right there in our safehouse.
But as the cozy atmosphere settled in, I noticed a sudden shift in the air. The cheap perfume I had bought from the 4th District merchant stall was already starting to fail me. The floral mist evaporated, and that awful, stinking smell of a four-day-old slum dress came rushing right back.
There was absolutely no way I was going to let my precious baby sister smell that stench.
Panicking slightly, I turned on my heel and hurried into my bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind me. I quickly peeled off the foul-smelling commoner dress and tossed my dirty undergarments into the wash bin. After a quick wipe-down, I pulled on a fresh, much more comfortable set of bra and panties, followed by a sturdy, clean dress that would easily survive my next few days of planning.
Feeling refreshed and ready, I stepped over to the full-length mirror on my wall to check my outfit.
I stared straight ahead, but as expected, the glass showed nothing but the empty background of my bedroom. There was no reflection at all. My vampire biology held true, the fifth evolution was a mess, and even my fresh clothes perfectly blended into the supernatural invisibility that mirrors imposed on my existence.
I turned away from the blank glass with a quiet smirk. I was clean, comfortable, and safely hidden away in my sanctuary. Now, it was time to rest up and figure out how to crack the Dodorant Citadel.
If I was going to pull this off, I needed a flawless plan. What Sydney said was entirely true: the Dodorant Citadel was a heavily fortified island fortress. The way she described it immediately made me think of Alcatraz back on Earth.
If the Bureau built a prison that secure, it meant the inmates inside were absolute monsters, dangerous, high-tier criminals who could easily bust out using raw strength or high-level spells under normal circumstances. Yet, the files stated that no one had ever successfully escaped. That pointed to one logical conclusion: the cells and inmates had to be outfitted with some sort of advanced magic-dampening materials or mana-siphoning chains capable of rendering their bodies completely inert.
If that was the case, sneaking in as myself would be a death sentence if I got caught and chained. I needed to study the layout.
Realizing I had left my newly purchased map of Lulu City downstairs, I slipped quietly out of my bedroom and headed back down the stairs. Evelyn was still tending to her new little potted garden in the kitchen, completely absorbed in her task.
I walked over to the coatrack in the living room, unhooked my leather purse, and pulled out the rolled-up parchment Brick had sold me. I brought it over to the dining table, unrolling it carefully under the dim, safe light of the room. It was time to map out my route to the island and find the cracks in the Citadel's armor.
I stepped softly back into the living room, the quiet hum of the house providing a stark contrast to the tactical chaos brewing in my mind. Evelyn was entirely absorbed in her new little gardening project by the kitchen window, her fingers gently patting down the soil around the Petrivna seed. I approached the wooden dining table, unhooked my heavy leather purse, and pulled out the rolled parchment Brick had sold me. I smoothed out the corners of the map of Lulu City, the crisp scent of the ink and aged paper filling the air as I studied the layout under the safe, dim light of the room.
The cartography was highly detailed, explicitly charting out the eastern geographical sector. According to the map, this entire region was dominated by four primary locations that formed a complex web of industry, terrain, and high-security isolation:
The Lulu City, An expansive, bustling oceanside metropolis sprawling along the coast. It is entirely fueled by its massive network of deep-water piers and commercial docks. The map notes state it is the single most vital fishing hub for our region, acting as the direct source of 50% of all seafood consumed across the entire territory of Caria. Beyond its domestic trade, the city's massive harbor serves as the primary international pier and gateway leading directly to the neighboring continent.
The Lulu Mountains, it is looming directly beside Lulu City, this massive mountain range stands as the fourth largest in the known world, rivaled only by the Caria peaks and the treacherous Rebelbub range. The map illustrates a terrifying wall of jagged, unforgiving peaks that violently rise from 1 kilometer to a staggering 7 kilometers above sea level. Much like the subterranean depths of the Caria Mines, these mountains are incredibly rich in resources, serving as a massive hotbed for natural oil extraction and heavy drilling operations.
The Mirage Sea, a vast, treacherous body of water that marks one of the grand oceans of our world. The waters are notoriously volatile, subject to unpredictable currents and thick, disorienting mists that give the sea its phantom name. It acts as a massive natural moat, completely cutting off the final and most dangerous location on the parchment from the rest of civilization.
The Dodorant Citadel, situated directly amidst the unforgiving waters of the Mirage Sea, this isolated island fortress covers a land area of exactly 7 square kilometers. It is a purpose-built living hell designed exclusively to keep the world's most dangerous, high-tier criminals securely locked away from society.
As I leaned closer to examine the tiny, fine-print bureaucratic annotations and Warden footnotes detailing the layout of the Citadel, my earlier hypothesis was officially confirmed. The security measures keeping these powerful inmates contained were absolute and terrifying.
Every single prisoner brought to the island is immediately subjected to extreme physical and magical suppression. Their necks, wrists, and ankles are permanently shackled in heavy, reinforced magic-dampening chains. These aren't just standard iron; the links are deeply embedded with rare, specialized mana-siphoning ores and strength-depleting stones. The moment these artifacts make contact with a prisoner's skin, they actively drain away their internal reservoirs, siphoning away their magical reserves and forcing their physical limits down to a baseline absolute.
According to the architectural index on the map, the suppression forces every single attribute of a prisoner down to a uniform level. Their Vitality, Strength, Defense, Agility, and Mana are rigidly capped and labeled at exactly 100. In this world, a flat stat line of 100 effectively strips away all supernatural advantages, reducing even the most terrifying, world-ending S-rank threat or high-tier mage to the fragile, mundane level of an ordinary, unawakened human civilian.
And the suppression doesn't stop with the chains. The map layout indicates that highly trained, heavily armored Bureau guards are stationed at every single perimeter wall, watchtower, and structural checkpoint, operating on a relentless, overlapping 24-hour patrol cycle. Even if an inmate somehow miraculously shattered their shackles and bypassed the internal guards, the surrounding environment itself is a death sentence. The freezing, churning waters of the Mirage Sea surrounding the island are completely infested with aggressive, bloodthirsty sharks, creating an impenetrable natural barrier.
Escape is an statistical impossibility for anyone inside, except, perhaps, for someone who possesses a pair of powerful, supernatural wings that can bypass the waters entirely.
Luke Granhart was trapped deep inside the belly of this beast. He was the vital key I needed to unravel the mystery of Don Anthony's location and put a stop to the mass-production of Alta's stolen Death Chant Tommy Guns. But looking at the brutal reality of the Dodorant Citadel, the stakes of this infiltration were higher than anything I had ever faced. If I made even a single miscalculation, slipped up my disguise, and allowed those specialized, strength-depleting chains to be snapped onto my limbs, my blood magic would instantly fail, my monstrous attributes would be neutralized, and my powers wouldn't work at all. I would be completely powerless, trapped as a fragile human in a cage of iron and stone.
I traced my single finger along the blue lines of the Mirage Sea, a cold sweat breaking out across my back as my crimson blood-wings twitched nervously behind me. I had to be perfect. I needed to study every dock in Lulu City, learn the schedules of the prison transport vessels, and find the perfect target to impersonate before I even set foot near those forbidden waters.
I stared down at the layout of the Dodorant Citadel, trying to piece together a flawless infiltration plan, when a soft shadow fell over the dining table.
I looked up to see Evelyn standing beside me, wiping her hands on an apron.
"What are you reading so intently, big sister?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as the bioluminescent tips of her hair flared with a gentle, glowing blue-green light.
Panicking slightly, I instinctively tried to play it off. I didn't want her worrying about a high-security prison break or the dangerous S-rank mafia boss I was tracking. I quickly slid a blank piece of scrap paper over the map to cover the prison's schematic and scribbled a brief note:
Just some paperwork, Evelyn. I need to let you know that I will be gone again for about a week. I have another bounty hunting contract to fulfill.
Evelyn read the note, and her expression immediately softened into a mixture of disbelief and deep worry.
"Again? I swear, I didn't know bounty hunting was harder than being an official Luminous Knight. Look at you, Eirene... you look like you've been fighting a war of your own out there. Please, promise me you'll get some rest before you rush out into danger again."
My heart twinged with a mixture of guilt and profound affection. I reached up with my remaining hand and gently touched her cheek. Her skin was incredibly warm, a comforting, beautiful reminder of the pure human sister I was fighting to protect.
Holding that warmth for a lingering moment, I pulled my hand back and picked up my pencil to write one final note:
I promise I will be safe. Don't worry about me. Just focus on your own future, okay? Try your absolute best as a knight, and keep helping people.
Evelyn stared at the paper for a long moment, the anxious glow at the tips of her hair settling into a calm, steady shimmer. She understood the unspoken weight behind my words.
"I will, big sister, thank you. I'll make sure to make you proud."