The vampire family, at the residence of the Odora household.
Emlin sat waiting on the sofa in the sitting room, a wooden crate resting by his feet. His expression held a mix of anticipation and tension.
Before long, the person he'd come to see appeared.
"Good evening, my lord."
Emlin rose to greet Cosmi Odora as he walked in.
The man appeared middle-aged, though his true age had already passed two hundred years.
While his own strength placed him at the rank of vampire baron, roughly equivalent to a Sequence 6 Potion Professor, his family's foundations ran deep.
To this day, an elder from the Fourth Epoch still remained alive within the family.
It was precisely because of this that their family had been qualified to organize tonight's gathering.
"Hm..."
Cosmi spotted Emlin and was about to speak, when he suddenly frowned.
A moment later his nostrils flared slightly, as though he'd caught a scent, and his gaze drifted toward the crate at Emlin's feet.
"Fresh blood..."
As a vampire, Cosmi was naturally quite sensitive to the scent of blood. After a brief moment of confusion, he seemed to grasp something and lifted his gaze to Emlin. "You hunted down a target?"
"Ahem..."
Hearing this, Emlin couldn't help but feel the corners of his mouth tug upward, though he forced himself to hold it back, keeping his tone deliberately flat. "That's right."
He bent down and lifted the lid off the crate, exposing what lay inside to the open air.
Several layers of old newspaper lined the bottom of the crate, soaking up the blood that had seeped out.
Laid atop the papers were two things: a blood-stained human head, and a strange, semi-translucent mass resembling a heart.
The head of a Primordial Moon follower, and the trait it had yielded upon death!
"This..."
Cosmi was startled, but there was no faking a head that matched the description of a follower, nor the corresponding Beyonder trait that came with it... This fellow whom everyone had written off as a useless oddball obsessed with dollmaking had actually managed to kill one of the targets!
"Is something wrong?"
Seeing the man's reaction, Emlin felt a deep satisfaction inside, and even deliberately pressed the question.
All thanks to the information provided by Mr. Temperance...
"...No, you've done well. I confirm this is one of the targets." Cosmi quickly composed himself, saying in a low voice, "I'll record your achievement... So far, two targets remain."
Before this, Russ Bathory and one other vampire had each hunted down a target, so Emlin had now caught up to them.
"Good to hear."
Emlin smiled.
He closed the lid and stood, ready to exchange a few pleasantries before taking his leave.
But just then, Cosmi seemed to remember something, his expression turning somewhat grave.
"Oh, right. You'd best be careful for the time being," he said. "The Night Church's elite Nightwatch have had their eye on us lately. Both Gerald Dover and Russ Bathory have already been arrested."
Emlin's smile froze in place.
"Why were they arrested?"
He asked, a flicker of guilt in his voice.
"It's tied to recent events."
Cosmi looked rather troubled, no doubt having spent the past few days fretting over the matter.
"The Red Gloves wanted us vampires to hand over information on the Primordial Moon followers.
We fobbed them off, and now they've gone and started forcibly arresting people, claiming suspicion of lawbreaking... Nothing short of banditry!"
Uh oh...
Emlin's smile remained fixed and stiff on his face, while inside his mind churned with a flood of thoughts.
Nightwatch, Red Gloves?
Mr. Temperance had said before that he would help deal with Emlin's other rivals, but never had Emlin imagined it would be through the Church of the Evernight Goddess!
As the "Scarlet King" of the seas, how had this man managed to have such influence within Backlund's own church, even commanding the elite Red Gloves squad? How on earth had he pulled that off?
Emlin's mind reeled with shock, but fortunately Cosmi across from him was too caught up in his complaints to notice anything off.
"I don't understand it."
Cosmi went on. "We vampires lie low so carefully. How did the authorities even manage to track those few down?"
I can never let him know it was me who leaked the others' addresses and information...
Emlin forced a smile. "Maybe they'd already been quietly investigating for a while, and this was just an excuse to finally move."
"I suppose that's possible."
Cosmi frowned. "In any case, be extra careful when you're out and about for the time being. If you really do get cornered and can't get away, don't put up a hard fight.
The family will find a way to get you out. I still need to go lodge a complaint with the Night Church... I won't see you out."
"Understood."
Emlin did his best to keep his expression natural, gave a slight bow of respect, left the crate behind at Cosmi Odora's house, and departed alone.
Once he got home, Emlin locked himself in his room, and a wave of unease gradually began to rise within him.
Had he really done the right thing?
He'd never imagined that Temperance had ties to the Night Church too. His own choices had led to his fellow vampires being locked up by the authorities' own Beyonders... though that Russ Bathory fellow had it coming, honestly. Still, the thought of that bastard locked up in a church cell just like he himself had once been made him want to laugh a little.
Shhh!
Just as Emlin sank into this tangle of conflicted emotions, a great swath of gray mist suddenly billowed up before his eyes.
From deep within the gray mist came the voice of Temperance: "Honored Mr. Fool, please relay to Moon that I've obtained another piece of information from a vampire... he can, through a sacrificial ritual, acquire an item capable of drawing in Primordial Moon followers..."
Another new lead already?
A surge of delight rose in Emlin's chest, and he immediately cast the faint trace of guilt lurking within him to the back of his mind.
"Honored Mr. Fool, please relay to Temperance that I'm ready."
He murmured a prayer, head bowed.
In truth, there was no point dwelling on so many things. All of this was arranged by the Progenitor.
He had entrusted Emlin with the task of protecting the vampire clan, so if he didn't push himself to grow stronger, how could he possibly fulfill that charge?
Emlin told himself.
"Take note, this item is extremely dangerous.
Try not to touch it if you can help it," Silas added specifically, even as he sent that strange doll off as a sacrifice. "If you run into anything strange, remember to pray to Mr. Fool."
Once he'd finished all this, he picked up the lemon water from the bar counter and took a sip, only to frown almost immediately.
The lemon slices had been steeping a little too long, and a faint bitterness had begun to seep out.
"Another one."
He said to the bartender.
The bartender turned at once, pulling out his tools and set about mixing him another.
The bar buzzed with the noise of a bustling crowd, yet not a single soul paid him any mind, not even though he had just performed a sacrificial ritual out in the open moments ago. Nothing about that had drawn so much as a single turned head.
As Silas waited for his drink, he suddenly spotted Leonard stepping through the door, glancing left and right, searching for something.
Knock, knock.
He tapped the table, and only then did Leonard notice him, hurrying over quickly, as though he had something to report.