A carriage stopped in front of the building. Its driver, a young man, got down and opened the door. A middle-aged man in a brown trench coat stepped out. As his black eyes swept the surrounding, he reached inside his pocket for a polished tobacco pipe.

“Father, you promised,” a calm, feminine voice resounded behind the man.

“Xiaotan, your father can use a little break.”

“Now is the time for work, not break.”

A neat, solemn lady alighted the carriage. While adjusting her hair, she walked to her father’s side. Their black hair resembled each other, though Xiaotan’s blue eyes took after her mother instead of her father’s black eyes. She looked ahead, gazing at the group of police warding off the crime scene.

“Father, why did you take me here?”

The father put back his tobacco pipe. “I’m giving you a chance. This place is your first test. Remember: do not use magic.”

Xiaotan hmphed, then walked to the barred building. As she approached it, the police noticed her and her father. They rushed out of the restricted zone and greeted Xiaotan casually before they turned to her father.

“Sir Centurion.” The police saluted. “We’ve finished the preliminary investigation.”

“No need to be formal. My daughter will take this case.” Centurion smiled. “I’ll oversee her process. She is more than capable of solving the case.”

“If it is easy, why not get me a harder case?” Xiaotan said.

She observed the building. Its appearance resembled other buildings except for a broken window and signs of decay. The cracks on the walls exposed brick structural beams, while the cobwebs on the balcony windows revealed the untouched dust of desertion.

“Whose house is this?” Xiaotan said.

“The owner is Hathaway Falun. She moved out of Donhalgen a few years ago.”

“Any stolen valuable?”

“Nothing major. Most items are of little worth in the first place.”

“Not a thievery, and certainly not a crime of passion.” Xiaotan peeked at her father, who maintained his indifferent face. “Officer, let’s head inside.”

“As you wish, Lady.”

The police guided Xiaotan and Centurion into the crime scene, passing through multiple polices and investigators. Due to the recent unrest caused by the Evil Cults and the Secret Organisations, the force of justice had doubled their effort to maintain order. They had to regain their citizens’ trust.

Standing in front of the broken window, Xiaotan peeked through the gap. Her gloved right hand caressed the broken fragments of the window. Her eyes locked on the edge of the shattered glass, connecting the big pieces with the small. In her mind, a few vague visions formed. They depicted multiple ways in which the culprits could enter the locked building.

“This fragrance,” she mumbled. “It smells quite peculiar, subtle, luxurious. Is it cocoa?”

As a woman of knowledge and fashion, she remembered reading about exquisite perfumes and their expensive fragrances. This chocolate scent was one of the most memorable yet minute. If not for her keen senses, she would have missed it.

With just a whiff, an image of a mature, mysterious lady gathered in her mind.

This apparition refused to dissipate. It overwhelmed her other choices of images. This fuzzy imagery settled her. She closed her eyes, breathed in, breathed out, regulating her state of mind. Her mystic intuition rang, warning her of an unknown outside influence.

“What’s wrong?” Centurion frowned. “Did you detect something?”

Though he lacked the mystic intuition his daughter inherited from her mother, he was an excellent detective, a famous one. His observation skill and cognitive ability were above mortal.

Sensing the change inside his daughter’s body, he reached inside his pocket and took out a can of spray. He aimed it above his head and sprayed it. Thin mist coated the ceiling and descended to the ground, leaving the atmosphere colourful, glittering.

Centurion tensed up. His indifferent expression turned cold, his pupils contracting. It’d finally drawn to him why the Church of Knowledge requested his service for such a mundane case.

There was a hidden story beneath the fake crime, and he would unravel it. He must unravel it.

He could not let the same thing happen again. He only had his daughter now.

After a few moments, Xiaotan opened her eyes. The illusionary image and the unforgettable fragrance had already disappeared. She took a deep breath, looked at her father, and nodded. Her expression, too, turned solemn.

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“Officer, tell your men to leave this place,” Centurion said. “And bring in the special force. This case is more troublesome than I initially thought.”

...

Iris firmly held a letter. She had no idea when or how it appeared on her desk, but she could recognise its insignia: a withered black rose held by a feminine skeleton hand. Though merely an envelope stamp, it exuded a soothing aura, one which reminded Iris of the calm, endless night, the all-comforting darkness.

Last night’s carriage, and now this letter . . . who are you?

Iris tried to recall her memory. As a Transformation Phase Monster Girl, she could vividly reminisce every little commonplace detail. Yet she couldn’t find anything.

Despite the nostalgia, she failed to recall seeing the insignia.

Her reticent hands gradually opened the letter. She had a feeling that this power meant no harm. It was akin to the affection she felt for Nupian, but this power was gentler, more reserved.

Though it signified power beyond the Condensation Phase, it didn’t trigger Iris’s sense of crisis. There was no manipulation, no deception. There was only a restorative aura, one which comforted Iris and brought her closer to a state of inspiration. Her fragmented knowledge uniformly joined into a network of wisdom.

In her soul, a new, fantastical door parted open. Her narrow slit of perspective, the viewpoint of a mortal, swung open with a muffled boom. A great flood of thoughts ruptured, raining onto her fermented forest of understanding.

Soaked with ideas, her flowers of insight blossomed.

Though she had once undergone the Ascension, the knowledge she gleaned from the world was chaotic, too complex. The gift from the Lord, too, added to her confusion. Now, for an instant, everything became ever so clear; she could touch the principles beneath her thoughts, and with it, she expanded her knowledge incessantly.

Iris blinked. The letter slipped from her hand. Her expression, glimmering with foreign feeling, turned strange. Such a state was not unheard of, but it was only possible if the higher beings deliberately exposed their understanding of the world to her.

But why? What had she done to receive such generosity?

Iris picked up the letter and took the content out of the envelope. There was an exquisite frame surrounding the beautifully written content. The strokes were spotless, the technique impeccable. It wasn’t a hastily written message but a carefully crafted one.

“These handwritings,” Iris muttered. “I’ve seen it before. It’s from . . . a signature?”

Iris’s hands froze. The seal within her soul loosened. She had seen this handwriting before. How could she forget?

“Court Founder?” Iris’s breathing quickened. She remembered now. Inside the carriage, an unknown lady sat opposite her. “She had been with me the whole time?”

Iris heaved a sigh of relief. She luckily was too tense to attempt any licentious things. If Secain were with her, she might have done something unspeakable under the gaze of the Court Founder.

Terrified yet excited, Iris read the letter:

“Congratulations, Iris. Indeed, I am Aspera, yours truly Court Founder. Specifically, I am Aspera’s will which inhabited this letter.”

Iris lightly coughed. “Then, Lady Aspera, thank you for your benevolence. I’ve benefited much from your gift.”

The murky inks shifted their position, dancing from stroke to stroke. They disconnected and merged, linked into brand new sentences.

“Benevolence I am not. I’ve used you to test my hypothesis. Thus, I must repay you an appropriate reward. Though I did not anticipate your bold creativity.

“Worry not, for I have resolved much of your trouble. My Mark of Concealment is suppressing the Mark of Love and the Curse of the Eye inside you.”

“Do you know who the owner of the Curse of the Eye is?”

“Masolis, the faith of the Eye of Masolis. His avatar placed his attention on you, mainly because of the aura of the Darkness-Type Artefact within you.”

The Mark of Love is from Nupian, the Curse of the Eye Masolis. Lady Aspera didn’t mention the Bewitching Mark; it must be because Bewitch is too powerful. What terrible calamity have you brought upon yourself, Iris?

“Can you erase these marks?”

“I could, but it would be onerous. My ability is no match for the owners of the marks. However, I’ve cut off their energy source. They will eventually dissipate.”

“Is there anything I should do?” Iris slightly lowered her head. “I need to become stronger.”

“You’ve already chosen your path, but you haven’t acknowledged it.” Despite being written with emotionless inks, the letters gave off a playful air. “The other Monster Girls won’t reject your invitation, especially after knowing your quality.”

“Is there no other way?”

“It is the fastest way. And also the most natural.”

“Can I . . . gain more gifts from you too?”

“It is possible, but such a gift is not something I can produce casually. Sharing intimacy with you is a much better reward; alas, you are too weak to endure the pleasure.”

Iris flushed, but she did not attempt to mask her feeling. She had to confront it sooner or later, and her situation forced her to take a step forward.

She was a Monster Girl, her heart that of a Monster Girl. She did not hate it, but the discomfort stemming from her soul revolted against her instinct. A long time was needed to reach a compromise.

“It’ll be my honour to experience your grace, Lady Aspera.” Iris touched her lips. “May I know the name of the lovely driver of last night?”

“Antina. She is also a Condensation Phase Monster Girl, so you may request her assistance, though I must warn you: she can be rather devilish.” The inks paused, then generated another sentence. “Take good care of her. She is my daughter.”

What? Iris titled her head. “She is your daughter?”

“She was born of my flesh and blood, her soul a fragment of mine and my late beloved.” Aspera’s silent sigh resounded. “We Monster Girls cannot bear descendants. Everything we absorbed from the Pure Races, male or female, love or lust, disintegrates into the purest form of energy. Such is our Fate.”

Iris wanted to speak, but her thoughts festered in her head, and she found herself too ignorant of the matter. She opened her mouth, but only silence seeped through.

“We are the Corrupted Ones,” Aspera wrote. “Our new form gives us a new chance, a liberating downfall, but they also trap us, chain us to our desires. Left with innate loneliness, we can only take consolation from the momentary pleasure.”

“I’m ashamed.” Iris looked at her smooth, delicate palms, which had reverted to her slime appearance. “I’ve never thought of this side of ours before. I didn’t know that we are so . . .”

“Pitiful, are we not?” The letter quivered. “I suggest you not dwell in it. Life moves on regardless of your feeling. I’ll be waiting for the day you shine brightly.

“Only then are you worthy of that contemplation.”

The letter and the envelope turned pitch-black before vanishing under the uncaring sunlight. Everything returned to silence, but not all was the same.

Iris looked at her reflection. Despite her ethereal beauty, desolate remained.

Lady Lilith, why are we like this?