Inside the room, Lalita sat in silence for quite some time. Her pale face and the dark circles beneath her eyes were drawn tight, reflecting the anxious expression she wore as she stared at her colleague's back.
A moment later, Fisgor glanced at her as he parted the curtain and stepped outside.
His gaze immediately shifted to the other three customers, one seated at the front left and the other two sitting on the long mahogany bench to the front right.
Fisgor turned to the left, looked at his colleague standing behind the reception counter, and walked over to him.
"Take a short break. Tell the customers to wait for a few more minutes," Fisgor whispered, his brow furrowed.
His colleague looked at him in confusion.
"...They've already been waiting for several minutes, ever since those two couples came in," he protested, feeling sorry for how eagerly they had been waiting for their turn.
"Don't you feel bad for them?" he added with a sigh.
Fisgor glanced back for a moment before quietly saying, "But... Lalita..."
Hearing his friend's strange remark, the man blinked.
"Don't be ridiculous. What's wrong with Lalita?" he asked, his voice almost rising.
The customers of the Corsturetion the Corps Club looked over in confusion after overhearing fragments of their strange conversation. At the very least, the man wearing the bowler hat glanced over instinctively.
The two people seated beside each other exchanged looks, and one of them, a man wearing a top hat, asked,
"Are they arguing?"
The woman beside him shrugged and replied,
"I don't know. I couldn't hear what they were talking about either."
The woman, who happened to be his next-door neighbor, told him to ask the two of them directly.
Naturally, the man refused, choosing to remain silent and stay out of their business.
Meanwhile, behind a window partially covered by white-and-gold curtains, a man lowered his bowler hat slightly.
His behavior was highly suspicious. It was obvious that his visit had nothing to do with the Corps Club.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other, one hand supporting his chin while his attention remained fixed beyond the window.
Even through the haze, the man could clearly see pedestrians and vehicles passing along the street.
At the reception counter, the two men continued insisting on taking a break before serving the waiting customers.
However, their argument came to an abrupt halt when Lalita calmly walked past them without saying a single word.
"...Where are you going?" they asked almost simultaneously, as though they shared the same thought.
Lalita continued walking.
Her distinctive appearance caught the attention of the two people on her right, including the man wearing the bowler hat, who briefly watched her as the bell above the door rang.
Ting...
The man in the bowler hat observed her carefully.
'Does she work here? How strange... and ridiculous. No wonder the people here believe in things like this.'
After muttering to himself, he returned his attention to the activity outside.
The other two customers remained focused on waiting, while the two men continued bickering over something trivial.
...
Out on the street, Lalita wiped the makeup from her face with a clean cloth before boarding a tram to visit her close friend, hoping not to frighten anyone with her appearance.
It was exactly eight o'clock in the morning, the hour when traffic became noticeably heavier, forcing Lalita to remain standing as she struggled against the crowded streets and the packed tram.
Normally there would be about three feet of personal space, but now there wasn't even one.
She chose the tram simply because it was affordable, nothing more.
Even so, Lalita insisted on taking this tram because she didn't want to wait for the next one and wanted to save time.
'That man was right. He... no, that young man needs to have his background investigated.'
Fifteen minutes later, after getting off the tram and walking a few steps, Lalita stopped at the entrance of an alley. She stood quietly in the middle of the crowd before taking a deep breath and continuing onward.
Checking the house numbers one by one, she carefully watched each step as she followed the alley's sidewalk.
"Not much farther now, but that's fine," she whispered, trying to encourage herself.
When she reached house number 50, her friend's home, she climbed the short, wide steps and stood before the door for quite a while.
She raised her hand, hesitating for a moment before pressing the doorbell.
After taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, she finally pressed it.
Ding Dong...
The pleasant chime echoed through the house for several moments. Lalita glanced around before the sound of rhythmic footsteps made her eyes widen.
She swallowed hard and instinctively stepped backward.
The footsteps grew louder with each passing second. The doorknob slowly turned, followed by another sound.
Click...
A woman with black hair tied into a high ponytail, with several loose strands framing both sides of her face, creating a striking contrast between her features and the beautiful expression in her eyes, looked at Lalita for two seconds before trying to smile.
Lalita reacted immediately.
"Don't smile!" Lalita cried, shivering.
"...Why not?"
Naturally, the woman, being her close friend, questioned the reason behind the warning.
"It gives me goosebumps, you know?"
"No," she answered shortly and clearly.
"Uh..."
Lalita found herself speechless.
However, once she remembered why she had come, she cautiously looked around.
"Can we go inside?" Lalita asked with a sigh.
"Ah, all right," the woman replied rather apathetically.
The reunion did not last long before Lalita bluntly revealed the true purpose of her visit.
Although her friend had already looked serious, her expression became even more serious after changing into more suitable clothes for going out... and for surveillance.
Even though she had no idea where the target lived, this was where her friend would play her role.
Lalita knew that. Simply by bringing interesting information to her, she would almost certainly agree, as her fascination with the occult had become her life's purpose in dealing with the strange mysteries that constantly haunted her thoughts.
Once they were ready, the two women left the house.
After locking the door, they set out, determined to finish everything before sunset.
....
Still in Vleco, at the intersection of Jikusuma Street and Flueca Street, more precisely in a rundown alley that few people ever used, the legendary artifact-thieving organization known as the Ghost Skull Syndicate had gathered.
Their leader, Zamma, stood on the porch of an old building, flanked by the eight companions who had survived the previous night's incident, while several beggars were scattered throughout the surrounding streets, including directly in front of them.
One of them asked why their captain had gathered everyone there.
"Why did Captain tell us to gather here?" asked the black-haired, dark brown-eyed man curiously.
Zamma responded through a series of hand gestures.
It was difficult to understand, but since they were already familiar with his signs, five of the eight immediately grasped his meaning.
Especially the heavily built man, the scout who always communicated directly with their captain.
The large man, Netan, nodded.
"Captain wants us to find the person who stole the artifact?"
One of them, a man with brown hair and light brown eyes, quickly asked,
"How does Captain know that the artifact we were supposed to retrieve has already been stolen?"
Zamma gave a brief reply through sign language.
Time and again, the same five people, Netan, Lucia, Ethan, Watan, and Naisa, instantly understood what their captain truly meant.
The other three, one of them a woman, still had not fully mastered their captain's sign language.
Even so, they continued trying to learn it, determined not to depend on those five forever.
Ethan, a man with slightly messy black hair and dark brown eyes, explained things to the three of them while the other four moved into position.
"Captain ordered us to do it, and the reason he knows the artifact was stolen is... intuition."
"Intuition?"
Naturally, they were both surprised and not surprised at the same time by their captain's ability.
Even the commander of the Ghost Skull Syndicate was impressed by Zamma's uncanny intuition and calculated way of thinking throughout every operation, qualities that allowed him to serve as captain and personally choose the members of his own team.
Of course, Zamma had been confused when he first made his selections.
He couldn't speak, but fortune smiled upon him when one of the recruits began translating his intentions into Talazze.
From that day onward, the five people he selected were required to learn sign language to make communication easier.
At least for the time being.
Even now, there were still three members who had yet to fully understand it.
"...Don't overthink it," Ethan said with a smile.
As Zamma looked at him, he checked the stolen revolver before calmly pointing it toward them, his expression composed yet unmistakably threatening.
The moment they saw that gesture, they shuddered and hurriedly stepped away from him.
Ethan explained the plan and reminded everyone that they had to return by late afternoon under the captain's orders.
Remaining where he stood, Zamma holstered the stolen revolver before quickly leaving the rundown alley.
Instead of turning left or right, he walked straight ahead along a road he had never taken before.
His purpose for going there was simple: to search for something, voice his complaints, and communicate through sign language with Recipestele, the creature bound to him by contract.
....
In Flueca, inside a large isolated building near a vast stretch of trees,
the search team from the 'Intersection Society' remained gathered in the same room, facing the same problems as before.
Even so, gloom did not show on their faces as they began speaking among themselves.
"That Receiver isn't dead. He'll definitely come, and the ascension ritual will take place," one of the men said after learning about Nitta's condition and the deaths of his two companions.
Out of the original twelve members, only ten remained, including four women.
Ever since that incident, Celina had barely spoken because she felt that the man she had fought that night had never been serious.
Although his words had provoked her, Celina was now even more convinced that he had been holding back for reasons she could not understand.
After thinking for several seconds, she looked toward a black-haired, brown-eyed man sitting against the wall beside a half-open door to her front left.
"Zowi, do you know anything about the Receivers capable of controlling those thin threads and spider webs?"
The sudden question caused six pairs of eyes to shift toward him.
"No idea. I'm an ordinary human, not a Receivers. How could I possibly know?" he replied before glancing at the blonde woman seated at the far left.
Aware of everyone's attention, the blonde woman, whose body had been concealed in shadow, slowly revealed herself.
"Puppeteer," she said reluctantly.
"Huh? What? Were you talking about something?"
Despite being irritated by him, the blonde woman remained calm and raised her voice.
"A... Receivers... of... Puppeteer... probably at the second level..."
The others reacted in surprise upon hearing the usually silent blonde woman speak so clearly.
Someone had obviously provoked her.
They all knew it, and immediately turned toward the black-haired man as the prime suspect.
"Why... are you all looking at me?"
"You're noisy," a black-haired man said firmly.
After saying that, he rose from the worn-out sofa and walked deeper into the building.
Three others followed him, leaving only six people behind.
One of them, Nitta, remained unconscious, while another woman was asleep in the same room where the black-haired Zowi had been leaning against the wall.
Interested in the Puppeteer's abilities, Celina stood up and walked over to the blonde woman.
When she reached her, she remained standing, waiting for the woman to speak first.
"Sit down," the blonde woman said, unable to bear it any longer.
Celina nodded and sat beside her.
Meanwhile, the two men sitting opposite them, slightly to the right, remained silent as they listened in.
The blonde woman's brief explanation of the Puppeteer, based on what little she knew, drew the two men even closer.
More importantly, although the ability sounded simple, beneath that simplicity lay something deeply terrifying.
Even though the blonde woman herself was a Receivers of Prefence, it was still too early for her to know the higher stages of the Puppeteer's abilities.
"...It's like a fairy tale," she said, visibly uneasy.
"Yes, go on," Celina urged, genuinely eager to hear the important information.
"Simply put, they can manipulate anything like a puppet master. They move things, control the story, and determine the fate of the characters they control."
The brown-haired man sitting opposite her said,
"You mean that once someone is caught, or rather, 'he' can alter fate itself as though it were part of a fairy tale?"
The blonde woman snapped her fingers.
"Exactly."
From that moment on, the situation within the 'Intersection Society', especially within the search team, became even more complicated.
If that man were allowed to live long enough to become a true Puppeteer, the world itself would eventually be dragged into his fairy tale.
Reluctantly, they decided to keep that information secret and find the man before reporting such vital information to one of their messengers.
With that, the discussion came to an end, and each of them rose from their seats after deciding to get some fresh air outside.