C117: intermission: Unescapable road

“It… makes sense.” James murmured as his pen continued to glide across the floating notebook.

“Lady Amelia is the only daughter of Marchioness Augusta. She inherited the rare constitution of a Cold Yi Body from the Moon Faction.

“That means she would naturally align within the Moon Faction, allowing her to condense cold Yi essence far more efficiently than ordinary Stagefarers… but at the same time, it makes her extremely valuable. And extremely vulnerable.”

The black ink beneath his writing stirred again.

[“Use Lady Amelia as both substitute and vessel. If a Curse can be successfully implanted into her body, the result may produce another Curse-Type E entity.”]

James’s eyes narrowed slightly as he read.

Curse Type E, or Curse Type Entity. A Curse that possessed the appearance of a human, animal, tangible form. They also possessed the ability to walk, think, communicate, perhaps even reasoning. Something that could walk among humans, animals and deceive them.

What would happen if such a Curse were brought under the command of the Demon of Dispute Order?

[“Of course, there remains a high probability that the Curse will collapse or be destroyed during the process.”]

The ink continued.

[“The summary of their formula would look something like this: a high-grade Curse of a Standard Path + a human vessel possessing Cold Yi Essence. The result? A humanoid Curse, potentially Deviant Path manifestation.”]

James read the words, a grin spreading across his face.

“Those Golden Land fellows… such greedy dwarves.”

In the underworld, it was almost impossible to speak of large-scale, morally depraved schemes without eventually tracing them back to one place: the Golden Land.

Unlike institutions such as the Featus Institute or the Silver Land, which at least maintained the illusion of order, the Golden Land operated entirely on its own principles.

Their maxim was simple: “Gold is Divine, and to accumulate gold is to approach the Divine.”

If something could not be obtained through the Silver Land’s regulated channels, then it almost certainly existed within the Golden Land. Rare materials, forbidden creatures, unstable Curses, experimental formulas, even people.

Morality, law, and human life, they were all negotiable. Openly, shamelessly, and at a scale that made even seasoned underworld figures uneasy.

It was precisely because of this that the Golden Land was outlawed across nearly every city.

Any official church, regardless of faction, would move immediately to eradicate their presence if even the faintest trace of a Golden Trader was discovered within their jurisdiction.

And yet, they still persisted, because the demand never disappeared.

James furrowed his brows.

“But that does not explain the suddenness of the attack on Easton City, nor why they have turned their sights so aggressively toward us,”

[“There is a high chance that an underlying motive lies beneath this attack.”] Miss Watson’s text appeared in the notebook.

The voice of the Marchioness echoed in his memory. It was laced with a raw hatred that had reverberated through the city only hours ago.

James recalled the rumors of another ruckus in the lower districts of Easton some time back.

“Marchioness Augusta has likely discovered traces of the Demon of Dispute Order operating within Easton,” he murmured, writing as he spoke. “She confronted them directly… and in retaliation, they abducted her daughter.”

[“There would be no reason to target the daughter of a high-Stage Farer unless she held specific value. For ordinary rituals, any child could serve as a substitute.”]

Perhaps Lady Amelia’s Cold Yi constitution was a unique catalyst. It was intentional.

Now, placed into context, it formed a clearer picture.

The Demon of Dispute Order had meticulously planned to kidnap Lady Amelia. They had successfully lured Marchioness Augusta out of her manor, drawing the high-ranking Stagefarer into confrontation that kept her eyes fixed on the wrong direction.

Once she engaged them, they took advantage of her absence and abducted her daughter.

However, something had gone wrong. Someone of significant importance within their ranks had either been captured or severely injured during that confrontation. That would explain the sudden attack on the city.

It was a rescue mission.

“Lady Amelia was then transported to the Curse forest. The Inspectors were dispatched to retrieve her.”

James paused slightly, the tip of his pen hovering just above the page.

“Then what does all of this have to do with us?” he muttered. “Why… did ‘he’ appear?”

[“‘He’ assumed your likeness to guide the Inspectors into the forest.”]

“E-03-068: The Gentleman.” James’s expression stilled.

He had heard stories of “him”. In truth, almost everyone in the inner circles of the Stagefarers knew of him.

He was the "Button Craving Man," a moniker as absurd as it was terrifying.

A being so absurdly bizarre that even the Featus Institution could not determine whether he was a Curse or a real human being. That uncertainty had resulted in a bounty being placed on his head, along with a classification code. An enigma anomaly.

E stood for Entity, and 03 designated an entity capable of influencing the people within its vicinity.

“The button-obsessed man…” James murmured.

“Why would he impersonate me?” he continued, frowning slightly. “And more importantly… Why target me specifically?”

He was certain they had never met in person, and he was absolutely sure he had no previous animosity with the man.

Unless—

His gaze shifted slowly toward the floating peach-colored notebook in front of him.

“...”

Slowly, beneath the lines he had written, new words began to form.

[“All of these point toward the village within that cursed forest.”]

“Winterin village.”

What was in that village? Why did everything converge there?

A sudden wave of a headache washed over James’s mind. His vision blurred for a brief moment, and a dull ache spread across his temples.

James frowned. Without hesitation, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small orange-capped bottle. He uncorked it and brought it close to his nose, inhaling.

The warm scent cleared the fog, and the headache slowly receded.

Rotating the pen between his fingers, he glanced at the notebook again.

“What do you think, Miss Watson?”

The notebook went silent for a long moment, the paper remaining blank.

Before long, words began to struggle onto the page, the ink appeared sluggish.

[“...I cannot find anything. The information regarding that location is… restricted.”]

‘Hoh.’ James’s brows lifted slightly.

He took out his wooden cane and clicked it against the ground, steady pacing through the alleyway. The sound of clicking echoed.

“Restricted? The information is restricted to you?” He waited, watching as a new black ink appeared, trembling slightly as it formed.

[“A form of informational contamination may be present.”]

The text flickered, blurred.

"So powerful it blinded even Miss Watson?"

[“Furthermore, it seems there is a powerful ########### that ####### with the forest. I cannot ####### on it.”]

James narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to the page.

“What…?”

What did he just see? The writing was blurry more and more, the letters overlapping with each other.

A wave of nausea crept into Jame’s mind.

[“...No. It is nothing. Cease your efforts. It is harmful for you.”]

James stared at the page, letting out a thoughtful hum.

“Mmm.”

He nodded lightly and did not press further.

But his thoughts did not stop.

What exactly was happening in that forest?

Why were so many forces converging on it?

Why did even information itself seem to resist being uncovered?

James adjusted his hat, his expression returning to that familiar, composed curiosity.

“What an interesting mystery,” he sighed. “But alas, I must find a way out of here first.”

He slowed his pace slightly and glanced down at the floating notebook still hovering before him. The pen twirled once between his fingers before he steadied it.

“Miss Watson? You know something, do you not?”

[“...”]

The black ink did not respond.

James tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful.

“Why are they targeting me? And why did ‘he’ choose to impersonate me?” he continued, his tone calmer now, more probing. “After all, you were the first to provide a warning about him and the impending attack on the city.”

After a long silence, seeing that the ink intended to offer no new lines of insight, he turned his attention back to his immediate surroundings.

“And… care to explain why I haven’t walked out of this alley yet?”

He raised his wooden cane and tapped it lightly against the gray wall beside him.

*Tok.*

The sound echoed, reverberating along the length of the alley.

By all logic, he should have reached the end by now. It was so long that even though James had finished his entire process of brainstorming within his notes, he had not yet reached the end of this path.

He could only see an endless road ahead. Even as the distant sounds of the city continued to drift into his ears, even as the yellow barrier still loomed overhead, the reality of the alley remained unchanged.

No matter how far he walked, he could not see the exit.

“I wonder,” James murmured, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he brushed a hand through his peach-colored hair, “have I become so famous that people are going to such lengths to trap me? Alas… what must I do to escape these overly passionate admirers of mine?”

As if in response to his theatrics, the black ink finally stirred. Letters formed slowly in front of his eyes, hovering in midair.

[“James.”]

“Ah, finally,” he said lightly, waving his hand as the floating notebook dissolved into nothingness. “Miss Fairy Shy, what is it?”

The response came immediately this time.

[“Touch me.”]

“...”

James stopped walking abruptly. He blinked, considering the request.

“Miss Watson, I am well aware that you hold me very dear to your heart, but to make such a request in public, it is n—”

[“JAMES! HURRY UP! TAKE ME OUT!”]

James’s expression changed instantly.

He reached into his inner coat pocket and hurriedly pulled out a thick, gray book.

This book was bound in intricate, pristine gray patterns across its cover. The design elegantly flowed as delicate threads woven directly into the material.

At its center was an image. An illustration of a small, beautiful girl. Her long gray hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of silver, obstructing half of her sorrowful face.

She sat alone beneath a towering pile of books, clutching one tightly against her chest as if it were the only anchor in her world. Her posture was withdrawn, almost defensive, as if the pages around her were both her shelter and her prison.

The moment the book was revealed, James’s physical form began to blur and glow with an intense, peach-colored light.

His figure swirled, and with a sudden rush of wind, he was absorbed entirely into the book.

“...”

In an instant, he was gone. Only the book remained, suspended for a moment in the air before dropping onto the ground.

*Swosh!*

At that exact moment, an ethereal bird descended toward the fallen book!

“!”

Before its spectral beak could make contact with the cover, the book erupted in flames!

It burned with a violet heat that devoured everything!

“...”

The bird landed lightly on the ground, its glowing eyes watching the burned book.

It watched until the last ember died out, leaving only a small pile of ash and charred scent in the air.

“...”

The ethereal bird remained still for a few seconds longer, tilting its head.

At last, with a beat of its wings, it flapped upward and flew high once more toward the sky, disappearing into thin air.

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