The night passed quickly in the quiet safety of the house. By the time the clock approached midnight, the city outside had fallen completely silent, plunged into a deep, pitch-black darkness. It was the perfect timing for my departure.
Before I left, I approached Evelyn one last time. I gave her a silent nod to let her know it was time for me to go. Though her eyes still held a lingering trace of worry, she accepted it bravely, wishing me luck with a tight, reassuring hug.
With my tasks firmly set in my mind, I stepped out into the cold night air. I completely ruled out using the standard transportation methods Alta had arranged during our previous mission; traveling by carriage or boat would be agonizingly slow, easily dragging the journey out for a week or more. My blood-wings were significantly faster, and time was a luxury I didn't have.
I navigated the empty streets, paid my silver toll at the outer gates to legally clear the district, and slipped out into the unmonitored wilderness beyond the city walls. I knew the S-rank bounty on my head was still actively circulating among the guards and mercenaries, meaning I had to be absolutely flawless in my movements.
I moved deep into the shadows of the tree line, waiting patiently until I was completely certain no scouting eyes or patrol lanterns were watching. Once the coast was clear, I pulled out the mechanical compass Alta had gifted to me. I checked the orientation of the needle, took a deep breath, and unleashed my massive, crimson blood-wings from beneath my canvas cloak.
With a single, powerful downbeat, I launched myself into the midnight sky, catching the cold wind currents as I flew off toward the west, tracking the coordinate path that would eventually lead me toward the treacherous eastern waters.
Two grueling hours of sustained flight passed in a blur of biting winds and rushing clouds. Flapping my heavy, crimson blood-wings at high altitudes required a tremendous amount of focus and stamina, but the sheer velocity was unmatched. Far below me, the jagged, unforgiving terrain of the wilderness gave way to the expanding, illuminated grid of civilization. I had finally arrived at Lulu City.
It was now two hours past midnight, yet as I hovered carefully within the thick cover of the low-hanging clouds, I was stunned to see that the oceanside metropolis was still heavily bathed in a vibrant sea of lanterns, magical streetlamps, and glowing pier beacons. True to its reputation as a massive commercial hub, the city never truly slept. The docks were likely teeming with nocturnal workers hauling in the midnight catch to supply the heavy demands of Caria.
I knew I had to be exceptionally careful. The S-rank bounty on my head as the "blood-sucking winged demon" was undoubtedly active here as well, and plunging straight into an illuminated, populated coastal sector with my monstrous wings fully deployed would instantly plaster my name across every wanted poster from here to the neighboring continent. I could not risk a city-wide alarm before my infiltration of the Dodorant Citadel had even begun.
Scanning the perimeter of the sprawling city limits, I spotted a deeply recessed, shadowed valley cutting through the outskirts just beyond the primary defensive walls. Angling my wings downward, I went into a steep, silent dive, slicing through the midnight air until the rocky floor of the valley rushed up to meet me. The moment my boots touched the dirt, I quickly retracted my massive wings, letting them fold and melt back into my spine. I threw my heavy canvas cloak back over my shoulders, adjusting the hood low to conceal my missing eye socket, the gruesome Glasgow smile, and the heavy Death Chant Shotgun securely strapped across my back.
Leaving the dark safety of the valley, I covered the remaining distance to the city limits by foot, blending into the dark terrain. As I approached the main eastern road leading toward the city gates, the ambient noise of commerce began to swell. Even at this hour, a steady stream of traffic was moving outward. I passed several merchants driving heavily laden carriages, rough-faced fishermen and bulk traders setting out on the long, nocturnal journey toward Caria City to ensure their massive hauls of fresh seafood arrived at the markets by dawn.
Keeping my head down and avoiding the direct glow of their carriage lanterns, I easily slipped past the weary, traveling merchants. I focused my gaze ahead on the towering stone arches of the Lulu City gates, preparing myself to face whatever guards or registration stones stood between me and the docks.
The moment I stepped up to the massive arches of the city gates, I was immediately halted by the gatekeeper. Because of my deeply hooded, suspicious appearance, he took a heavy brass lantern, poured a fresh splash of kerosene into the chamber, and struck a match. He lifted the roaring flame directly toward my face, illuminating my features in the dark midnight air.
Through the golden glow, he saw exactly what I truly was: a tanned, battle-hardened woman with a missing left eye, a severed left arm hidden beneath the canvas, and a horrific, jagged Glasgow smile carved into my cheeks.
"Toll and status card," the guard demanded, his voice gruff but professional.
I reached into my cloak with my remaining right hand, pulled out my official registry token, and handed it over alongside the required silver coins.
The gatekeeper squinted at the engraved silver card, and his eyes suddenly widened to the size of saucers.
"An S-rank bounty hunter… are you actually... Eirene?"
I gave him a slow, firm nod.
"Oh, wow, you must be related to the legendary Shadow Walker. Word travels fast along the trade routes, I heard rumors from the neighboring cities that you practically saved the country's economy and fixed the severe deflation crisis. Am I right about that?"
I just stood there in absolute silence, staring back at him. Since I am mute, and I didn't want to waste the precious pages of my merchant-bought notepad on idle small talk, I let the quiet night speak for itself.
"Well, whatever, my name is Keith Pat, and welcome to Lulu City. I should warn you, just like the other major hubs, this city currently has incredibly high security and strict rules. The crime rate here is much lower than you'd expect. Our justice system doesn't mess around, if we catch even a low-life criminal, like a standard street pickpocketer, they don't go to a local cell. They get sent straight across the water to the Dodorant Citadel."
Keith leaned forward slightly, a blunt smirk on his face.
"Now, I'm not telling you this because you look like a tourist. I'm telling you because, frankly, with those scars and that shotgun, you look almost exactly like a criminal yourself. Just a fair warning. Safe travels, Eirene."
I offered Keith a respectful nod of thanks, pulled my cloak tightly around myself, and walked past him through the heavy iron gates.
Stepping into the brightly lit, stone-paved streets of Lulu City, I knew I needed to act fast. Hearing that even low-level thieves were being shipped straight to the Citadel was a massive piece of information, it meant the prison transports from the docks were likely frequent, providing the perfect window for my infiltration. But it was now past two in the morning, and the fatigue of my two-hour midnight flight was finally catching up to me.
Before I could start scoping out the harbor or planning my disguise to get to Luke, I needed a secure place to rest. I began scanning the illuminated signs of the commercial district, looking for a quiet, low-profile inn where I could disappear for the night.
Luckily, my eyes caught a brightly lit wooden sign swinging gently in the coastal breeze: The Golden Shrimp Inn. The name instantly made me think of crispy tempura, a fitting title for a tavern in a major seafood hub like Lulu City.
I pushed the heavy doors open and was immediately greeted by the warm, rowdy atmosphere of a classic seaside tavern built right into the ground floor of the inn. Even at this late hour, a few lingering patrons and drunk fishermen were fast asleep, snoring softly right on top of the wooden tables.
I bypassed the sleepers and walked straight up to the heavy oak counter. Catching the attention of the busy barkeep, I slid a pre-written scrap of paper from my notepad across the counter:
Room.
The barkeep gave me a quick, calculating look, checking my heavy cloak and scarred features, but he didn't ask any questions. He reached under the desk, grabbed a heavy brass key, and laid it out.
"That'll be ten silver coins for the night," he grunted.
I reached into my leather pouch, counted out 10 silver coins, and slid them over. Picking up the brass key, I noticed the numbers 201 cleanly stamped into the metal.
Leaving the noise of the tavern behind, I turned and navigated the wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. I walked down the dim, quiet hallway until I found the door labeled Room 201. I slipped the key into the lock, turned it with a satisfying click, and stepped inside.
The room was simple but secure. I finally closed the door behind me, locking it tight. The grueling two-hour flight, the heavy tension at the city gates, and the mental weight of planning a prison break had completely drained me. Slipping off my heavy boots and setting my Death Chant Shotgun within arm's reach, I collapsed onto the bed. I could finally rest, letting sleep take over before the real work began tomorrow.