The next morning, the groggy members of Penguin Logistics, still recovering from the night's festivities, received a long-term commission from Emperor. The task was to make periodic trips into the cities of Ursus to deliver cargo to Jeanne's group.
In truth, before the Ursus authorities had even apprehended that man Ivanov, they had already prepared a sum of money for Jeanne's procurement needs. Had she wished to handle the shopping herself, she could have simply left with a check. However, Jeanne had forgotten to mention this to those two "Vodka" subordinates of hers, and they—suffering from mental information overload after discovering the wiretaps—had wiped it from their memories entirely.
It was no wonder those two had been stationed in Lungmen for so many years without a single hint of a recall. It seemed they were simply left here to "retire" in all but name. Regardless, Jeanne didn't waste her energy worrying about the internal personnel shifts of Ursus; it wasn't her concern.
Ursus had been surprisingly generous this time, providing a substantial sum as a "labor fee" for her assistance.
"So, Boss, why didn't you tell us this yesterday? We're going to be seeing them again soon anyway!" Croissant asked, eyeing her boss. She suspected the penguin had kept quiet just to squeeze a party out of them.
Emperor flapped his wings dismissively, implying that as their brilliant and divine leader, he would never stoop to such tricks. He claimed he had simply been having too much fun and forgot.
"Besides, it's not like I'll deploy you every single time," Emperor added. "Standard goods can be handled by local branches. I'm telling you now so you're prepared to transport confidential equipment."
The team exchanged looks. "Confidential" was usually logistics-speak for "contraband." While they were a law-abiding company on the surface, they frequently handled restricted items under the guise of client confidentiality. They knew exactly what was legal and what wasn't the moment they saw the item.
"Boss, we do this all the time. Don't worry, there won't be any issues!" Croissant waved it off. Transporting restricted goods between mobile cities was technically a crime most stayed away from, but for these veterans, it was just another Tuesday.
"Take this seriously. This isn't like your previous contracts!"
Emperor's expression turned uncharacteristically grim. He was internally debating whether to send these four or call in some "old friends" for this specific route. The items Jeanne had requested were incredibly troublesome. Unlike Lungmen, Ursus wasn't a place where mistakes could be easily smoothed over.
"In short, this operation is higher risk than usual. The destination is deep within Ursus, where my influence is much smaller than it is in Lungmen... think it over. Give me your answer in a few days."
With that, Emperor turned and walked away, his wings tucked behind his back in a rare moment of pensive silence. He worried for these "kids," his top-tier employees.
What does Jeanne want with repair machinery and materials for Ursus Originium weapons from years ago anyway? he wondered. The channels for such obsolete gear were narrow. Even if he got them, did Jeanne have craftsmen capable of tinkering with discarded tech? Perhaps she had her own special methods. At the very least, Ursus-made gear had one advantage: it was incredibly durable.
Taking advantage of her day off, Ch'en hurried to find Jeanne to ask about the explosive end of those two captives, only to be hit with the news of Jeanne's imminent departure.
"Leaving so soon? Why the rush? Can't you stay a bit longer?" Ch'en asked. Jeanne had done her such a massive favor, and she hadn't even had the chance to properly thank her. She realized Jeanne hadn't been in Lungmen long at all, and she'd spent most of that time working instead of resting.
"I'll pass," Jeanne said, packing her suitcase. "My work here is done. If I stay any longer, I won't even know what to do with myself."
Her luggage was sparse—just a few changes of clothes that didn't even fill the small trunk.
"Don't worry about me. I'm the type who can't sit still. If I head back now, I might even make it in time to help the others harvest the grain. You look like you've had it rough, too—those dark circles under your eyes are starting to show."
Ch'en subconsciously touched the corner of her eye. She hadn't rested in ages, spending every waking hour on overtime to close the various cases.
"I just haven't been sleeping well... Ah, I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you about those two guys taken by Columbia..."
Ch'en finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at her for days: the reports from Wei Yenwu stating that the two captives had perished in an explosion. She couldn't understand how Jeanne could have done it from such a distance, especially since medical checks had confirmed they were physically fine.
"I see... it seems quite a few people hated them enough for it to end in an explosion," Jeanne replied, her expression remaining neutral.
She then explained the situation to Ch'en. She didn't use the term "Noble Phantasm," instead framing it as a unique Originium Art. In a world full of bizarre and terrifying Arts, a caster with strange powers wasn't that unusual.
"You're saying... it wasn't a living person who killed them, but the vengeful spirits trapped within their own bodies?" Ch'en felt a chill run down her spine.
To anyone else, the concept of "vengeful spirits" meant one thing: a haunting. Not the "Ghost" (Oni) like Hoshiguma, but the ethereal wraiths of legend.
"You could say that. They were meant to be consumed by flames. Perhaps along the way, they absorbed the lingering hatred of spirits from somewhere else, which triggered the explosion," Jeanne mused. She hadn't actually intended for them to blow up; she had worried an explosion would catch innocent bystanders. She wasn't some art-obsessed demolitionist, after all.
"Even if you put it that way... give me a moment to process this," Ch'en groaned, her head starting to ache. She remembered the gang members who had been reduced to ash as well. "If I tell my subordinates that the suspects were killed by 'vengeful spirits' and try to close the case like that... they're going to think I'm making a fool out of them."