The Archivist glided into the seat opposite me, her dark robes settling like liquid shadow. She leaned forward, resting her elegant hands on the worn wooden table, her voice dropping to a whisper that easily bypassed the hushed gossip of Garret and the other freshmen nearby.
"Before we discuss your business, I have some excellent news regarding our operations, just hours before you arrived, our covert units managed to capture Oksana's high-ranking apprentice. It turns out he was a third-year student at the Sisiphon Magic Academy… the very instigator behind the recent border sector massacre. He is currently locked in our lowest sub-level being interrogated. At first, no words came out of his mouth. So, naturally, we had to apply a little bit of creative torture to force the truth out of him." the Archivist murmured, a cold, satisfied glint in her eyes.
My lone right eye widened slightly beneath my deep hood. She was talking about Sticky Sperm… the exact same arrogant third-year who had harassed Amelia, Aisha, and Cindy in the canteen, and the very man I had flawlessly framed to take the fall for the Crimson Phantom's crimes.
"Well, we started by plucking out his left eyeball. When that failed, we severed all of his toes and fingers one by one. We waterboarded him for an hour, pulled every single one of his teeth out with pliers, and when he still refused to cooperate, we skinned his entire body alive and applied raw salt directly to the exposed flesh. Yet, incredibly, not a single coherent word is coming out of his mouth. He just screams and babbles nonsense about demons and the phantom. He's a tough nut to crack." the Archivist continued calmly, adjusting her cuffs as if she were discussing the evening weather.
Beneath my heavy cloak, my face twisted into an intensely sour, thoroughly repulsed expression. I didn't let out a single sound, but I leaned back slightly and gave her a glaring, unmistakable "I absolutely did not need to know any of those gruesome details" look.
The irony was staggering. The reason Sticky Sperm wasn't giving them any answers about Oksana's empire wasn't because he was a fiercely loyal, unbreakable syndicate soldier… it was because he literally knew nothing. He was just a pathetic, low-level creep who had the misfortune of being my scapegoat. His mind was probably completely shattered from the torture, and he was rambling about the phantom because I was the one who had beaten him into a bloody pulp in the alleyway.
Noticing my physical recoil and the sheer disgust radiating from my lone eye, the Archivist blinked, clearing her throat with a rare hint of embarrassment.
"Ah... my apologies, Eirene, I forget that even our most lethal bounty hunters prefer to keep their minds focused strictly on the targets, rather than the messy logistics of our intelligence gathering. Let us move past the prisoner." she whispered, bowing her head slightly in a rare gesture of humility.
She leaned in closer, the atmosphere turning deadly serious once more.
"Tell me, what did you discover inside the Emerald Spire? What is the Drug Lord planning?"
I reached into the folds of my cloak, pulling out the fresh parchment and quill I had taken from the front desk. It was time to map out the midnight massacre.
I slid the ink-stained parchment across the table, the sharp, hurried cursive detailing the entire blueprint of Oksana's impending downfall.
On the paper, I had mapped out every single strategic piece of information the Drug Lord had spilled during the high-stakes meeting. I left out no details: the hyper-refined lotus dust blended invisibly inside thousands of standard sacks of flour, the syndicate thugs stripping off their armor to disguise themselves as ordinary merchants, and the three major grain mills in Caria City's lower districts that she had secretly bought out to anchor her new distribution pipeline. Most importantly, I pointed out their exact time of departure… just after midnight, aiming to breach the border passes while the Eastern District Clan was supposedly deep asleep.
The Archivist picked up the parchment, her sharp eyes scanning the lines with a calculating, intense focus. As she read, her expression hardened. The sheer depth of the logistics, the specific names of the front companies, and the precise timeline confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that this intelligence was completely authentic.
She slowly lowered the paper, her dark eyes locking onto me with a mixture of profound shock and deep suspicion.
"This is an absolute goldmine of intelligence, Eirene, you've completely exposed their entire northern expansion pipeline before it even began. But tell me... how in the world did you manage to extract this level of classified, high-tier syndicate data from the absolute inner sanctum of the Emerald Spire in less than a day?" the Archivist whispered, her voice tight with disbelief.
I sat perfectly still in the dim lighting of the alcove. No words came out of my mouth. I couldn't tell her that I was currently disguised as a fourteen-year-old freshman prodigy, or that Oksana had literally invited me to sit at her right hand and listen to the whole plan because she thought I was her loyal new apprentice.
Instead of writing a response, I simply let the silence stretch between us. I leaned slightly forward, allowing the shadows of my deep hood to shift just enough for her to see the grim reality of my current state.
Through the darkness of the cowl, the Archivist caught a clear glimpse of my appearance, the hollow, charred socket where my left eye used to be, the jagged, horrific ridges of my permanent Glasgow smile, and the heavy, empty fold of my cloak where a left arm should have been.
Seeing my mutilated features and the sheer, unyielding aura of death radiating from my lone right eye, the Archivist paused. She didn't need a written answer anymore. In her eyes, the gruesome state of my body spoke entirely for itself. She assumed I had just gone through literal hell… unleashing a silent, bloody, and terrifying infiltration campaign deep within the enemy's den, enduring immense physical strain just to drag this information out into the light. She could clearly see my absolute, unbreakable endeavor to claim Oksana's head, no matter the cost to my own flesh.
"I see… forgive me. A phantom of your caliber does not need to justify her methods. You have bled for this ledger, and I will ensure your sacrifice is rewarded." the Archivist murmured softly, her tone dipping into a rare, profound level of respect as she carefully folded the parchment and slid it into her robes.
She stood up, her dark robes swirling around her ankles as she prepared to mobilize our forces.
"I will contact the Eastern District Clan immediately. By the time midnight strikes, their warriors will be fully armed, entrenched, and waiting in absolute ambush at the mountain passes. Oksana's merchant caravan will be walking straight into a slaughterhouse."
She looked down at me one last time, her eyes flashing coldly.
"Rest up for the next few hours, Eirene. When the dawn comes, the Emerald Spire will be bleeding, and the Drug Lord will be yours to execute."
The Archivist picked up the folded parchment, her dark robes whispering against the stone floor as she prepared to step back into the hidden depths of the library. Before she turned, she looked down at me, her sharp eyes softening with a rare, heavy gravity.
"Thank you for this information, Eirene, I swear my clan will bring Oksana's head right to your feet. I wouldn't dare mistake the true worth of a phantom who is both the Shadow Walker's little sister and the offspring goddess's little sister. The Rynd bloodline truly breeds monsters of absolute conviction." she said, her voice dropping into a solemn, respectful vow.
My lone right eye widened slightly beneath the shadow of my hood. A cold jolt went straight down my spine. She knew. Of course she knew. As the ultimate information broker of the city's underworld, the Archivist had connected the dots long ago, linking my hidden bounty hunter persona to both Elias and Elicia.
Realizing the catastrophic danger of that knowledge leaking out, I snatched the quill before she could leave. My hand moved with frantic, sharp precision as I scratched out one final, desperate message across a scrap of leftover paper
"Don't tell my siblings about this. Not a word."
I shoved the paper toward her, my lone eye drilling into hers with a fierce, terrifying intensity that demanded absolute compliance.
Maintaining my incognito status as a bounty hunter was the only thing keeping my family from imploding. If Elias, the legendary Shadow Walker discovered what I was doing, he would forcefully drag me out of the underworld to protect me. And if Elicia, the proud Principal, ever found out about my true condition, if she saw the tongue-less, single-armed, scarred reality of the "Little Ren" she thought was safely chopping meat in a peaceful countryside town, the crushing guilt would absolutely destroy her soul. I would rather hunt in the pitch-black shadows forever than let my siblings carry the weight of my agony.
The Archivist read the messy, urgent script. A flash of understanding crossed her features, and she slowly bowed her head, placing a hand over her heart.
"You have my word, Eirene, your secrets are safe within my deepest vaults. To the Bureau, to the Academy, and to your siblings... the Crimson Phantom will remain nothing but a ghost. Go and prepare for the dawn. The stage is set." the Archivist promised softly, her voice binding the oath in the quiet library air.
I let out a silent, ragged breath through my ruined mouth, nodding in gratitude as I tightly buttoned the heavy cloak around my folded blood wings. Slipping out of the secluded alcove, I melted back into the night, leaving the scholars behind. The midnight ambush was locked in, my identity was secure, and Oksana's countdown had officially begun.