Without a single sound, I picked up the charcoal pencil and quickly jotted down a final, sharp "Thank you" on my notepad, turning it toward Snow and Cassius. I grabbed the ancestral files, sliding them into my leather purse alongside the Registry of the Condemned.
Snow offered me a frail, bittersweet smile, her green eyes shimmering with a mix of heavy sorrow and unvoiced prayers.
"Goodbye, Roxy. Please... bring an end to this nightmare, and stay safe," she whispered, her maternal voice echoing softly against the high mahogany ceiling.
Cassius remained seated, his eyes following me with a dark, intense focus that lacked his usual arrogant playfulness. He gave me a slow, tight nod… a silent acknowledgement that the rules of our old game had completely disintegrated.
I turned on my heel, my boots clicking firmly against the pristine marble as I marched out of the grand dining hall. Pulling the heavy hood of my tattered crimson trench coat low over the calcified lines of the Leech's Hollow Mask, I pushed through the towering front doors and left the opulent, suffocating luxury of Calico Manor behind.
The cool noon air of the Royal Sector hit my face, carrying the expensive scent of manicured roses. I didn't stop to admire the sprawling estates or the glittering fountains of the elite. My mind was already charting the 15-square-kilometer layout of the 3rd District, focusing completely on the journey ahead.
The clock was ticking. In exactly one month, the Holy Bureau would violently tear open the dimensional fabric to summon their extra-dimensional pawn. In that same month, my accelerated pregnancy would reach its peak, and I would officially retire from the registries to protect the bloodline growing inside my womb.
The transition back through the high-security threshold of the Royal Sector was seamless, though the heavy atmosphere of the aristocracy lingered in the folds of my tattered crimson trench coat like a stagnant perfume. The polished marble under my boots gradually gave way to the practical, tightly packed cobblestones of the inner checkpoint. The elite guard stationed at the silver-wrought barrier didn't even bother to challenge my approach. His eyes locked onto the calcified, predatory contours of the Leech's Hollow Mask and the empty, withered sleeve pinned to my left side.
"Finished there, Bounty Hunter?" he asked, his voice low, measured, and carefully balanced between professional detachment and the instinctual caution one afforded a lethal apex predator.
I offered him nothing more than a single, cold nod of my hood. The grand gates ground open with a heavy, mechanical groan, and I stepped through the barrier, leaving the opulent, tree-lined boulevards of the nobility behind.
The contrast was immediate as I re-entered the Residential Commons. Here, within the sprawling 15-square-kilometer grid of the 3rd District, the air smelled familiarly of burning charcoal, hearth smoke, and the faint, bitter tang of domestic life. The towering townhouses cast deep, geometric shadows across the narrow alleys, creating a labyrinth that felt infinitely safer for a half-vampire than the exposed, sun-drenched gardens of the elite. I navigated the familiar turns with rhythmic, mechanical efficiency, my right hand resting casually over the strap of my purse. Inside, the ancestral files of the Flower bloodline and the heavy weight of the Registry of the Condemned pressed against my hip, a constant reminder of the bloody crusade that lay ahead.
Eventually, the massive stone archway of the primary 3rd District checkpoint materialized out of the gloom. Renny was still there, leaning his heavy halberd against the wooden guard post, though he had finally set aside his copy of the Caria Times. As my dark silhouette emerged from the shadows of the residential blocks, he straightened up, a faint, weary smile touching his lips.
"Finished, Eirene? You certainly don't waste any time when you're on a trail. Anyways, you know the drill… toll and status card."
I reached into the folds of my coat, pulling out my official Hunter Status Card along with a single silver coin. The metal clinked softly as I slid them across the worn wooden counter. Renny picked up the card, running it through the mechanical iron reader with a practiced, rhythmic swipe. The device whirred, its internal gears clicking as it validated the state-sanctioned erasure of my past identity, flashing only the title Bounty Hunter across its small interface.
As he tapped the card against the edge of the ledger to clear the registry log, Renny looked up, his expression turning unusually soft and reflective.
"You know... White Flower is a fierce Capital Knight now. She's been working incredibly hard under Chief Roman's command to establish order around here. She's a good person, Eirene. A real friend to the people in this district. Keep an eye out for her if you're lingering around the capital."
The words hung heavily in the air between us. Behind the dark, hollow slits of my bone mask, my remaining green eye didn't flinch. The profound, tragic irony of his statement was something Renny could never comprehend. White Flower was indeed a fierce knight, a brilliant beacon of Light Magic, and a comrade I had once bled for in the trenches of our youth. But she was also the daughter of an S-rank monster, and to ensure my own survival and the safety of the heretical bloodline rapidly developing within my womb, I was about to dismantle her biological father's empire piece by piece.
I snatched my status card back from the counter with my pale, translucent right hand, slipping it securely away without making a single sound or gesture. Renny sighed, stepping back to crank the heavy iron lever that lifted the reinforced district barrier.
"Stay safe out there, Bounty Hunter," he muttered as the gate cleared.
I strode past the threshold, leaving the 3rd District entirely behind. The wide, militarized avenues of the 4th District stretched out before me under the cold, unblinking glare of the high-tier arcane streetlamps. The Bastion was quieter now, the disciplined squads of Luminous Knights having traded their active courtyard drills for perimeter patrols. Every step I took brought me closer to the central archives and the tactical preparations necessary for my return to Town Allure.
The bright, harsh rays of the afternoon sun beat down mercilessly upon the cobblestones, the heat radiating off the stone walls of the 4th District like an oven. For a half-vampire like me, this sunlight was a volatile enemy. I couldn't dare unfold my skeletal blood wings to fly to Town Allure in broad daylight; the solar rays would blister my translucent alabaster skin, and worse, a flying crimson figure would instantly betray my hidden identity to the high-alert scouts patrolling the skies.
I kept my heavy hood pulled low, the Leech's Hollow Mask casting a deep shadow over my face, protecting my single green eye and my cloth-wrapped socket as I approached the massive outer city walls.
Standing guard at the final exit gate was Luscious, a seasoned veteran of the city's perimeter guard. As my dark, tattered trench coat halted in front of his ledger desk, he looked up, a sharp, knowing grin breaking across his scarred face.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Bounty Hunter, I haven't seen you in two months. Let me guess… spent all that time behind closed doors preparing to hunt down another S-rank bounty? Better yet... I see your pale skin is finally back to normal instead of that bruised look you had before. Anyways, you know the rules. Toll and status card." Luscious drawled, leaning back and resting his hands on his belt.
Without a word, I reached into my coat with my pale right hand, pulling out my Hunter Status Card and a single silver coin. Luscious took them, running the card through the heavy iron reader with a satisfying click. He stamped my exit logs and slid them back to me.
"Watch your back out there. The world outside these walls is getting crazier by the day."
I pocketed my card and stepped through the massive iron gates, officially leaving the capital city lines behind.
With the afternoon sun still hanging high in the sky, I had no choice but to begin the journey to Town Allure on foot. Flying right now was completely out of the question. During my two months of self-imposed isolation at House 132, the kingdom's panic over the legendary "Crimson Phantom"... the blood-sucking, winged demon responsible for the brutal executions of high-tier targets… had reached an absolute fever pitch. The state had officially raised the Crimson Phantom's bounty from 16 gold coins to a staggering 18 gold bounty.
With the brutal, ongoing war between humans and demons, anti-demon paranoia was at an all-time high. If anyone in the surrounding provinces identified that the quiet, one-armed Bureau bounty hunter was actually the 18-gold winged demon, the entire military force of the kingdom, including White Flower and the Capital Knights, would be ordered to hunt me down and execute me on the spot. I couldn't risk the life of the child growing inside my womb for a moment of convenience.
So, I marched. My heavy leather boots crunched rhythmically against the dirt road as I tracked the path toward our ruined hometown, my right hand resting protectively over my purse where the files lay.
Hours bled away as the blazing afternoon heat slowly matured into a deep, bruised violet sky. Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the cool, heavy blanket of twilight rolled across the open plains. Scanning the vast, empty landscape, I ensured there wasn't a single human traveler, merchant carriage, or scout around.
With a sharp mental command, the massive, skeletal blood wings compressed against my spine burst outward through the slits of my crimson trench coat, kicking up a harsh gust of wind. I launched myself into the twilight sky, cutting through the crisp night air at a devastating speed, soaring silently toward the ashes of Town Allure to reclaim the secrets of the Bloom Syndicate.