Chapter 13: Ancient Ruins

"All of you must be familiar with the infamous Sleep Experiment. It involved a group of deranged wizards who abducted five young apprentices and subjected them to brutal, inhumane methods to force the emergence of multiple affinities. To achieve this, they resorted to forcibly binding keys from different gates to these victims.

When their initial efforts failed, they turned to the gruesome fusion of the blood and flesh of abominations with differing affinities. This cruel experimentation led to the deaths of many, with only one survivor who successfully gained two affinities. However, the depraved wizards weren't content with their sadistic pursuits. They subjected this individual to yet another horrific fusion, nearly obliterating his soul. Only a remnant of his corrupted soul remained.

They turned this survivor into a hollow, then through dark rituals, imprisoned an evil spirit within this grotesque creation." The Old Man's lips curled into a grin as he spoke. "This, my friends, is a masterpiece, a work of art. Its beauty is truly captivating." He spoke with a fascinated voice.

My gaze once again fell upon the hollow, and it churned my stomach. I fought to control my emotions, for the true deranged individual in this room was none other than The Old Man, a genuine lunatic.

"I... So... Sleepy... Sleepy." The Hollow's eyes lacked any trace of emotion, but its voice reverberated with a deep and agonizing tone. It seemed as if every moment of its existence was drenched in excruciating torment, as if it longed for an end to its suffering. It was a truly heart-wrenching sight, though the room was populated with individuals who showed little compassion, save for perhaps the twins, based on their reactions.

It was a stark reminder of how humans, when consumed by their darkest emotions, could transform into some of the most twisted and repugnant creatures.

A few more topics were discussed, focusing on the procurement of guns and explosives, given their significance in the organization's operations. It seemed like a convenient source for obtaining firearms.

As the meeting neared its conclusion, I extinguished my cigarette and immediately lit another.

Puff!

The loud exhale of smoke I released drew everyone's attention to me.

"I have a commission," I stated in a composed tone. "Investigate a person named Thomas Doriscillian for me."

"That's quite unusual, Echo. Typically, you're the one commissioned for investigations," commented The Old Man, his face slightly tilted.

"So, who's willing to take the commission?" I inquired. In response, a sly grin appeared on The Old Man's face as he turned his gaze toward the twins.

"I believe you should either assign it to The Doll or The Nightingale."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"We often go by our code names or ignore surnames," he explained. "But for those two, it's 'Doriscillian'."

"So her code name is Nightingale," I realized. In that moment, I turned my attention to the two sisters, who both lowered their heads, avoiding eye contact.

"Which one of you is willing to take on my commission?" I inquired.

"Well..." They hesitated, still apprehensive.

"I need an answer."

"Well... I'm willing," the Doll finally managed to summon some courage, though she couldn't bring herself to meet my gaze.

It seemed the Nightingale wanted to say something, but before she could, the Doll spoke again.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"But in return—"

"Look in my eyes," I interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Huh?"

"I said look at me, straight in my eyes."

"What?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No—"

"Then look at me," I insisted, my voice taking on a deeper tone.

Her legs trembled slightly, and her palms grew sweaty as she locked eyes with me. I couldn't help but wonder what about me made her so nervous.

"Now tell me, what is it that you want?" I questioned calmly, taking a puff of my cigarette.

"You must be familiar with the name Dr. Aron Churchill, right?" She asked, her tone serious. Though a trace of nervousness remained, she was speaking more clearly now.

"Mm," I responded with a subtle nod, although I didn't know much about this person.

"The main reason my sister joined this Order was to find out the killer of our mother, The Ripper. Even if Dr. Aron Churchill is just a suspect, I want to investigate him thoroughly. My sister says that you're the best in such matters."

'Sigh, woman, get to the point,' I thought inwardly.

"What I want you to do is not only investigate him but take me alongside you whenever you're investigating him," she finally managed to say these words before immediately looking down.

The Ripper? Churchill? Those names rang a bell. I remembered them from the report Evan had given me; Churchill was indeed a suspect. Why did I forget it?

"You sure are courageous. Here, catch."

"Wha-" Without giving her time to react, I flicked a card toward her – the one for my detective agency with the address on it.

She adeptly caught the card and then squinted her eyes as she closely inspected the address.

"8:40 sharp in the morning," I stated and offered a gentle reminder, "Don't be late, my lady. Be a Leno bird." The term "Leno bird" signified punctuality in a common slang used in the novel.

She nodded with understanding, but then she suddenly froze, and her cheeks reddened. It was as if she had realized something that left her feeling embarrassed.

I couldn't help but notice this change in her demeanor. Was she unwell? No, those flushed cheeks seemed more indicative of embarrassment.

What had caused such an unexpected reaction?

"Ho~"

I furrowed my brow, intrigued by her response. I glanced over to the old man.

"You do have a certain romantic charm, Echo, don't you?" he remarked with a teasing grin.

"What do you mean?" I inquired, but the old man just maintained his sly smile. I struggled to resist the urge to punch that smug expression off his face.

"Let's not stray from the topic," the Unknown interjected, effectively breaking the awkward silence.

"The primary reason we've acquired this hollow is to create chaos during Devil's Day and eliminate our target amid the turmoil. This will be the ultimate Devil's Day battle, the decisive one, it's kill or be killed. Therefore, numerous meetings will be convened from this point forward, each in a different location. In summary, does anyone have any plans or strategies that can enhance our chances of eliminating the leader of The Secret Society?"

The Butcher raised his hand and spoke up. "Sir, I've located ancient ruins that belong to a wizard family from the third generation, and as far as I can tell, no one has entered them yet. However, there are traps within, and malevolent spirits are present." These so-called books were also called as generations by the historians.

"Well, what's their approximate strength?" the Unknown inquired, maintaining his unexcited tone.

"Based on my initial findings, these ruins likely belong to the Greyheart family, a noble family from the third generation. Their strongest member should have been at the 4th gate."

"This discovery could be highly advantageous for our organization. Butcher, you'll accompany the Old Man, me, the leader of this organization, and some hired mercenaries to these ruins."

"Very well, sir."

The mention of ancient ruins triggered a recollection. There should be an immense catacomb within this city, where the remains of a truly peculiar being rested. This being was, in fact, a human.

His name was The Bizzaro Empyrean, a Gate Eight pillar! Yet his tomb remained hidden, and the protagonist of the novel managed to locate it and secure various artifacts. Naturally, I intended to acquire those artifacts before he could, for what good was my knowledge otherwise?

Further discussions continued on various topics.

"For now, this marks the end of today's assembly."

"As you wish, sir," the other five members responded respectfully, while I and the Old Man simply nodded in agreement. Expressionless, I made my way toward the exit. The room appeared to contain concealed exits. I unlocked the door through which I entered this room with a casual flick of my wrist, taking a deep, contemplative puff from my cigarette.

My mind raced with thoughts about the tasks ahead. A visit to the Bree family, sustenance, investigations—truly, my plate was full.

I reached into my pocket, retrieved a pocket watch, and squinted to discern the time. It was 10:10 AM.

After a few more minutes, I ascended the staircase, continuing my day. Emerging from the confessional booth, I closed my eyes, relishing a moment of tranquility before unlocking the door and stepping out. The priest observed my return but said nothing, offering only a subtle nod.

"Sir, you're back!" Evan exclaimed upon my return.

"Follow me, boy, we have a lot of work to finish. No time to slack," I told him as I strode toward the cathedral's exit. Seeing me move, Evan quickly stood and followed.

I couldn't help but feel like I was part of a Victorian drama set... Sigh.