I watched the dust settle as Mochi rode out of the secure perimeter of the 4th District, his figure disappearing into the upper military sectors. With the Bloom Syndicate officially dismantled and my bounty pouches secured, I technically had some free time before my next administrative deadline.
I turned away from the grand marble Plazas of the high command and began the long, deliberate trek across Caria, walking all the way from the affluent military hubs of the 4th District down to the older, more weathered stone streets of the 7th District.
My destination was the isolated Christian church nestled in the lower sectors.
Two months ago, my hunt for other world-crossers had led me straight to Na Tae-man… a seventeen-year-old brunette boy with striking crimson eyes. On Earth, he had been a hardcore Korean gamer; here in Andromeda, he was a street-rat who had spent eleven years grinding for experience points that didn't exist, entirely oblivious to the fact that his crimson eyes were actually an ancient soul marker tied to a catastrophic ritual. To keep him secure and off the radar of the larger political factions, I had delivered him to Father Columbia, the thirty-year-old Earth-reincarnated priest who maintained the sanctuary. Tae-man had been living inside the church under the priest's watchful eye ever since.
I pushed open the heavy, weathered oak doors of the sanctuary, the iron hinges letting out a low, echoing groan that cut through the quiet, candle-lit nave.
Stepping inside, the familiar scent of old wax and cedar hit my senses. Standing near the altar under the soft, filtered morning light were the two individuals I had come to see: Father Columbia, looking as sharp and neat as ever with his neatly framed glasses and black hair, and beside him, the brunette gamer boy, Na Tae-man.
The heavy oak doors of the church creaked shut behind me, instantly cutting off the ambient noise of the 7th District. Stepping into the nave, my single green eye adjusted to the dim, candle-lit interior.
Instead of an empty sanctuary, a strange, surreal scene was unfolding before the altar. There were more than three people gathered there, plus Na Tae-man and Father Columbia… making a total of five individuals deep in conversation. The air was thick with the rapid, rhythmic cadences of fluent English. To any passing native of Andromeda peering through the windows, the words would sound like complete, incomprehensible gibberish. But to my reawakened Earth memories, the syntax was perfectly clear.
Thanks to Tae-man's relentless gamer instincts, his deep library of past-life light novel knowledge, and the street-level survival stats he had meticulously built up over eleven years of wandering Caria's underbelly, he had actually done it. The boy had successfully tracked down three entirely new reincarnated beings hiding within the capital city.
And they were standing right here, huddled inside Father Columbia's sanctuary, seeking refuge from the cruel, evolutionary laws of this world.
I stood perfectly still by the back pews, my tattered crimson trench coat casting a long shadow across the stone floor. Behind my calcified Leech's Hollow Mask, my mind ran a quick diagnostic check on my own readiness. My inventory ring was currently holding steady at 23.8 kg / 25 kg and choked with my Death Chant firearms and 37 volatile tear gas canisters, and the three newly forged rings on my pale right hand… Level 8 Mana Pool, Level 6 Magic Enhancement, and Level 5 Healing… pulsed with a low, synchronized warmth against my demonic core. My physical purse was holding exactly 40 silver pieces, but I now had an additional 1 gold and 50 silver heavy in my pockets from the Laulif bounty split.
The covert team we had formed two months ago was already bearing fruit. Tae-man was fulfilling his end of the contract, bringing the human crossers to safety.
As the group by the altar noticed the looming, one-armed silhouette of the Crimson Phantom entering the room, the English chatter faltered for a brief second. Tae-man smirked, rubbing his neck with his usual bravado, while Father Columbia offered a serene, welcoming nod.
"Ah, Roxanne, you've returned right on time. Come forward. Brother Tae-man has gathered the first harvest of lost souls." Father Columbia spoke up, his smooth English echoing through the rafters.
"Let the Lord guide you, Roxanne," Father Columbia said, his serene voice carrying that deeply comforting, professional Vatican weight as he gestured for me to join the group.
I stepped forward into the soft light of the altar, my heavy leather boots echoing against the marble floor. The tattered hem of my crimson trench coat brushed against the pews, my single green eye assessing the room with clinical precision beneath the shadow of my canvas hood.
Na Tae-man broke away from the group and swaggered over to me. I hadn't seen him over the past few weeks, and it was immediately obvious the boy hadn't been idling. The shabby street-rat rags he used to wear were completely gone. He was finally geared up… sporting a decent, freshly polished set of iron-reinforced leather vanguard armor, a sturdy new steel shortsword strapped securely to his hip, and a pair of reinforced combat boots.
"Hey, Roxanne! Nice to meet you, look at the new gear! I've been grinding so many street stats and scouting quests over the last few weeks. My level might be hidden, but my agility and detection parameters are definitely hitting their stride." Tae-man said, a smug, highly satisfied grin plastered across his face as his crimson eyes gleamed with pride.
Before I could offer a silent, unreadable stare to deflate his gamer ego, the three newly rescued reincarnated beings stepped forward from the altar steps. They looked at my imposing, tall silhouette, my missing left arm, and the chilling, calcified lines of my Leech's Hollow Mask. For a split second, a wave of familiar, instinctual fear crossed their faces… anyone in Caria would recognize the grim aura of a high-tier executioner… but then they remembered where they were.
They looked at each other, and then their faces lit up with profound, overwhelming relief.
"Oh my... I didn't know that the legendary bounty hunter was actually a reincarnated soul from Earth," one of them said, their voice trembling slightly with emotion as they spoke in fluent, flawless English.
"It's so incredibly nice to meet you, Roxanne," another added, taking a small step closer, completely dropping their guard as they realized they were standing in front of a compatriot from their old world.
Hearing the languages of Earth spoken so openly by people who weren't hardened military commanders or syndicate monsters sent a strange, distant ripple through my mind. They saw a savior, a fellow survivor who had climbed to the peak of this brutal world's power structure. They had absolutely no idea about the heavy, crushing weight of self-blame currently anchoring my soul… or the horrific, toxic reality of what had just happened inside the town sewage pipelines barely an hour ago.
I stood completely mute before them. I didn't reach for my notepad just yet. I simply let the low, synchronized warmth of my three elemental rings pulse against my fingers, keeping my posture completely stoic as I evaluated the three new pieces of our covert survival team.