Above the Grey Fog.
"Mr. Temperance, you wanted to see me?"
The Moon, Emlyn White, sat cautiously in his own high-backed chair, addressing the blood-red figure beside him.
Today wasn't a Monday, so none of the other members of the Tarot Club were present, and the mysterious, unfathomable Mr. Fool had likewise concealed his presence.
Left alone to face this dangerous, powerful existence, Emlyn couldn't help but feel a measure of fear in his heart.
"Mm, there's something I wanted to ask you."
Emlyn heard the other party respond flatly, "It's about the followers of the Primordial Moon."
Those hunting targets?
He was startled for a moment, and then excitement welled up in his chest as he quickly pressed, "You have a lead on them?"
Now that would be good news!
"No, quite the opposite."
Temperance glanced at him and said, "What I want to ask is whether you have any news of them."
"I...?"
Emlyn was somewhat confused, and then he heard Temperance continue explaining, "Yes, I need intelligence on these people. Last time, you openly went searching for them at the gathering, and it's been a while since then. I figured you'd surely have turned up some leads by now..."
Temperance's words left Emlyn deeply embarrassed. He had no idea how to answer, and could only maintain an awkward silence.
The other party finally picked up on the truth from his reaction: "...Don't tell me you still haven't found anything?"
There was no need to put it quite so bluntly...
Emlyn forced himself to speak, "Well, I'm still working on it..."
Silence. An unbearable stretch of silence.
He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but just as Emlyn, in his embarrassment, was on the verge of asking Mr. Fool to send him back, he heard Temperance speak up.
There was a note of helplessness and irritation in the voice. "Forget it... just tell me why you're looking for them in the first place, and what exactly your Blood Clan is up to internally."
"So in other words, your Duke has turned this into a trial to test the younger generation of your clan. Five targets, and whoever hunts the most gets the reward."
Temperance summed up in a single sentence what Emlyn had rambled on about at length. "And right now, two of the targets have already been hunted down, leaving three remaining, correct?"
"That's right."
Emlyn answered, "It's not that I haven't been trying to find them, it's just that my luck has been a bit poor..."
"No need to explain any of that."
His words were cut off abruptly by Temperance. "Mr. Moon, let me ask you this: do you still intend to win? Or rather, how determined are you to come out on top of this competition?"
Did he still want to win?
Emlyn hesitated for only an instant before the memory surfaced of being mocked by the other members of the Blood Clan, especially that Rus Bathory, whose contemptuous gaze still remained vivid in his mind.
"Of course I want to win!"
The words burst out of him before he could stop them.
"Good, as long as you're determined."
Upon hearing this, the other party nodded slightly. "I'll offer you some help."
"Mr. Temperance, you're going to help me?"
Emlyn found it hard to believe. "Why?"
"Because I happen to be searching for them myself right now. I want to obtain something from them."
Temperance answered, without offering too detailed a reason. "I have a method that could help you, but it will require your cooperation on one thing."
"What kind of cooperation?"
Emlyn asked, both confused and full of anticipation.
"Tell me who the other members of your Blood Clan taking part in this trial are, preferably with their exact addresses and identities."
He heard Temperance answer, "I'll make use of my connections to investigate their movements..."
Track them?
It took Emlyn a few seconds before he gradually understood what the other party meant.
That it wouldn't matter even if he couldn't find the targets himself, because he could simply tail the other contestants, and the moment they were about to close in on a target, strike first and seize the fruits of their victory. In other words, Temperance was planning to move against his fellow vampires!
"Don't worry."
The blood-red figure said softly, "I won't harm them. At most, I'll cause them a bit of minor trouble..."
"This..."
Emlyn hesitated for a moment.
Even though he truly craved the results, how could a proud member of the Blood Clan so easily betray his own kin?
"Also, once this is done, I'll give you three tenths of the proceeds from this venture, as payment."
Just as he was caught in indecision, he suddenly heard Temperance add another line.
The hesitation in Emlyn's crimson eyes vanished at once, and he decisively spoke up: "Deal."
Silas, you rascal, what exactly are you up to... My Tarot Club already has more than enough traitors as it is...
Behind the Grey Fog, having listened to the entire exchange between the two, Klein couldn't help but rest a hand against his forehead, muttering to himself quietly.
That night.
---
Backlund, West District.
Rus Bathory strode out of his residence full of spirit, looking brimming with confidence.
That's right, he was certain he had this in the bag this time.
Setting aside that useless Emlyn White, obsessed with his puppets, none of the other competitors came anywhere close to matching his own abilities.
Even the luckiest among them had only managed to hunt down a single target by sheer coincidence. He just needed to hunt down two more targets, and the victory would be locked in...
Thinking of this, he couldn't help glancing at the box he was carrying in his hand.
The box had been sealed with a Spirituality wall, and inside it lay a strangely fashioned wooden doll.
It seemed to be connected somehow to the Blood Moon, capable of driving those who fanatically worshipped the Primordial Moon into obsession.
All he had to do was attend one of those Beyonders' gatherings, use it as bait, and he could lure out whichever hunting target was hiding among them, then finish them off cleanly.
Victory would be his!
Rus Bathory, giddy with excitement, strode forward and easily made his way to the gathering. He displayed the wooden doll for everyone to see, and was delighted to find two attendees with concealed faces lunge toward the doll like drowning men gasping for air.
Ha, hooked!
Rus Bathory thought gleefully, and struck back with the formidable power befitting a Baron of the Blood Clan, successfully killing both of them.
He carried the two severed heads back to Baron Cosmi's estate and displayed them before the assembled vampires, earning astonishment and praise from everyone present.
"You should become the next Duke!"
The other vampires all sang his praises, cheering for his accomplishment. Poor Emlyn had no choice but to clap along with everyone else, and even amid all this praise, he felt a satisfaction unlike anything he'd experienced before...
It was at this exact moment that Rus Bathory finally began to sense something was off.
Strange, something didn't feel right.
Didn't I just step out the door? How did I complete the target and get back here so quickly?
Crack!
Just as the realization struck Rus Bathory, the loud sound of shattering glass rang out all around him.
He opened his eyes to find himself still standing at his own front door, and somehow, a crowd of people had gathered around him without his noticing.
They wore black formal suits, their gloves a brilliant, striking red.
۞۞۞۞
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