In a dim and narrow hidden room, Gregor sat solemnly on a comfortable sofa, listening silently to Donald’s words. After pausing for a moment, as if thinking something over, he spoke again.
“So… my next task is to find a way to obtain Devonshire’s schedule?”
“Yes. If you can get it, that would be best. If not, it’s not a problem—headquarters will create an ‘opportunity’ through other means. They’ve given you three days. After three days, whether or not we’ve acquired her schedule, they will proceed with their actions.”
Donald said to Gregor. Hearing this, Gregor nodded silently.
“Understood. I’ll do my best to gather information on her. If I handle it well, it should be possible. She’s highly vigilant, but she does trust me to some extent.”
Gregor said this, and Donald added one last point.
“Mm. Regardless, Devonshire must die. After she’s dead, we’ll search her residence to find out what she was investigating. If she has any secret bases outside, please try to find them as well.”
“I’ll do what I can…”
Gregor replied at last to Donald’s request. After chatting briefly about a few miscellaneous topics, Gregor rose to leave. He took a bolt of red silk cloth with him and went to the front to pay, then exited the store.
Once outside, he leisurely walked out of the alley. At the roadside, he hailed a carriage and climbed in. Sitting in the compartment, he closed his eyes and silently began to pray.…
During the day, atop the surging sea waves, aboard a grey passenger liner filled with travelers, Dorothy sat on the bed of her cabin, gazing at the sea through the porthole while reflecting on the intelligence she had just received via the information channel from afar. A thoughtful look appeared on her face.
“I really didn’t expect this… I haven’t even returned yet, and trouble from that side is already coming to me first.”
Dorothy thought inwardly. After learning what her older brother had just experienced, she gained further insight into the situation in Tivian.
“Looks like… that knight woman wasn’t wrong after all. The Eight-Spired Nest really can’t sit still anymore—they’re preparing to return to Tivian. And they’re planning to activate the ‘dark piece’ I left behind there to pave the way for their return…”
Dorothy pondered deeply. She hadn’t expected that right after Misha had spoken to her about the Eight-Spired Nest’s plans to return to Tivian, they would make a move so soon—and aim directly at Misha from the very start. Misha was likely the most dangerous threat to them within the Serenity Bureau right now.
“Heh… looking at things now, the so-called mole issue within the Serenity Bureau has gotten even worse. They’ve got such precise intel on Misha’s situation. That so-called ‘master mole’... seems even more arrogant than before. Their influence on the Bureau appears to have grown.”
“Because of that so-called ‘master mole’, the Serenity Bureau practically has no ability to resist the Eight-Spired Nest… If not for the contingency plans I put in place, and people like Misha… who knows what state the Bureau would be in now. With how things stand, if we don’t intervene soon, she might not survive.”
“Thankfully… with Gregor acting as a multipurpose ‘dark piece’, I still have quite a bit of operational room to maneuver here.”
That was Dorothy’s thought. Now that she was preparing to confront the Eight-Spired Nest head-on upon her return to Tivian, there was no way she could leave Misha to fend for herself. So she opened her magic box, took out the Literary Sea Logbook, turned to the communication page connected to Misha, and after some deliberation, began to write.
…
“What…”
At dusk, within a shooting range somewhere in Tivian, gunshots rang out one after another. In the open area, many shooters were engaged in live fire at their targets. Near a resting bench, a short-haired woman with golden-blonde hair, dressed in fitted pants and a vest, sat in her seat, staring in shock at the open book in front of her. So startled was she that she even fumbled while reloading; a bullet slipped off the table and fell to the floor.
Reading the words written on the page before her, the woman—Misha Devonshire—froze for a second. Then she silently bent down, picked up the fallen bullet, and set it aside. With a solemn expression, she then took out the fountain pen she always carried and began writing beneath the words that had appeared on the page.
“Is your intelligence reliable? Are they really planning to target me?”
“Absolutely, Miss Misha. Our informant embedded within the Eight-Spired Nest may not be of high rank, but their position is critical. They’ve already received a mission: to clear obstacles for the Nest’s return to Tivian. And the first obstacle… is you.”
“Heh, all your activities these past six months—it seems they’ve been watching closely. Your movements have already drawn their full attention.”
The handwriting that appeared on the book’s page was one Misha recognized instantly. After reading it, she silently drew in a breath and then continued writing.
“I truly didn’t expect them to come for me at this point in time. But in a way, this proves that what I’ve been doing is meaningful. Thank you for the warning. In the coming days, I’ll be especially cautious—I won’t give them any openings to exploit.”
After Misha finished writing on the page, she quietly waited. A moment later, the response addressed to her once again emerged visibly across the page. However, this time, what the other party said left Misha slightly surprised.
“Actually, what we wanted to say is… if you manage to fend off their assassination attempt using the intel we provided, then yes, on the surface, the outcome seems acceptable. But from our point of view, this approach leaves many hidden dangers…”
“Hidden dangers, huh… Looks like you all have some other ideas. Let’s hear it.”
Misha paused slightly as she read the newly revealed message, then, after a brief thought, responded with interest. The reply appeared on the page right away.
“Due to certain individuals among the Serenity Bureau’s upper ranks, Miss Misha, you’ve already been marked by the Eight-Spired Nest as a key target. You’re even considered a potential ‘next Duke Barrett.’ Given the importance they placed on Duke Barrett, they won’t give up on killing you just because they fail once. If one attempt fails, there’ll be another. They won’t stop until the job is done. Even if you fend off one wave, what about the second, or the third? As they keep trying, the odds of failure on your end increase…”
Reading those words, Misha slowly nodded and wrote back.
“From the Eight-Spired Nest’s perspective, I’m in a clear position while they’re hidden. If they keep targeting me… I really don’t have many effective countermeasures.”
“Exactly… Given how much they already know about your movements, at best, you can only avoid them for a while. And as long as you remain in the open, you’ll always be on the defensive, constantly constrained. That makes it impossible to break through strategically.
“Another hidden danger is this: if you keep successfully dodging their assassinations, they’ll begin to suspect that their intelligence network has been compromised. They’ll initiate internal audits, scrutinize every link in their information chain. When that happens, our agent embedded in the Eight-Spired Nest will be in danger. Even if they manage to survive the purge, they’ll be forced into silence and won’t be able to send us further intel. Without that line, our future resistance against the Nest will be severely handicapped.”
Misha read the well-reasoned analysis on the page carefully, nodded, and then replied.
“Your analysis makes some sense. These are all significant concerns. Some of them I’ve considered before. But even if I’ve thought of them, they’re hard to resolve. However, since you’re raising them now, I suppose you must have a solution in mind?”
“We do. We have a method that can perfectly resolve your current crisis—and even give you the upper hand in your fight against the Eight-Spired Nest going forward. Miss Misha, would you be willing… to let your public identity ‘die’ in the eyes of the world?”
As the new sentence appeared before her, the proposed solution was laid out right there in front of Misha. She blinked briefly, then immediately understood what the other side was suggesting and quickly wrote.
“You want me to fake my death to trick them?”
“Exactly. Given the situation, only a fake death can truly solve the issue. Once you’re ‘dead’ publicly, the Eight-Spired Nest will think their mission is complete and won’t come after you anymore. Once they believe it’s done, our agent embedded within will also be safe. Most importantly, only by ‘dying’ once can you shed your public persona, disappear entirely from their line of sight, escape the internal sabotage within the Serenity Bureau, and dedicate yourself fully to investigating the Nest.
“This isn’t just a means to survive, Miss Misha—it’s an opportunity.”
The new message emerged on the page from somewhere far away. Misha frowned slightly as she read it, then replied.
“Faking my death… Aren’t you underestimating things, my Rose friend? It’s no easy feat to fake death in front of the Eight-Spired Nest. They won’t believe I’m dead unless they see it with their own eyes and do it with their own hands. Even the Bureau will need to confirm it. Even if there’s no body, they have ways to verify death. If my death can’t be 100% confirmed, the Nest’s informants within the Bureau will relay the suspicion. They’ll immediately consider the possibility of a faked death. That’ll only convince them their intel has leaked—and your mole will be in even greater danger.”
With a serious look on her face, Misha wrote this out. She didn’t think the plan to fake her death was viable, because her death would need to fool both the Eight-Spired Nest and the Serenity Bureau. Pulling off such a deception under both their watchful eyes was no simple matter. That was precisely why she hadn’t considered this option earlier despite her dangerous predicament.
“You’re right… Given the current situation where the Serenity Bureau can’t be trusted, faking your death won’t be easy. But in our view, it’s not impossible either. We have a plan. If it goes smoothly, no one will suspect your ‘death,’ Miss Misha.”
Responding to Misha, more text surfaced on the page. Misha was momentarily stunned, then wrote.
“What plan? Let me see it first.”
She wrote, and then new lines of elegant handwriting began to fill the page—Rose Cross Order’s so-called plan slowly taking shape. As Misha read through it, her initially serious expression began to soften, her eyes widened, and by the time she reached the end, the astonishment on her face could no longer be concealed. After a long pause, she finally picked up her pen again and responded.
“Your plan… is quite intriguing. If it can be carried out successfully, then it might actually work—even under their noses. There’s risk involved, of course, but given the current situation, it’s a risk worth taking.
“However… there’s one major flaw in your plan. It requires the cooperation of another Blood Shade Path Beyonder. I do have two Black Earth–rank subordinates on the Blood Shade Path, but I’ve only known them for a little over six months. They aren’t what I’d call trusted confidants. I can’t be sure they’d stay loyal if I told them about this plan. To an ordinary Hunter, this plan could even look like betrayal of the Serenity Bureau.”
Misha wrote out her concern, and soon received a response.
“You don’t need to worry about that part. On our end, we have a Beyonder who can partially replicate the Blood Shade Path’s abilities. I’ll send them to assist you. All you need to do is bring one of your two Blood Shade subordinates along and then find a reason to keep them sidelined. Oh, and later, send me their files—I’ll determine which one is more suitable.”
Reading the reply, Misha sank into thought for a while, then once again took up her pen and resumed writing on the page, continuing to discuss the details of the plan with her mysterious ally from afar.
…
“Phew…”
Inside the cabin of the ocean liner, after concluding her exchange with Misha and reaching an agreement on the plan, Dorothy let out a long breath. Having finalized the details, she paused the correspondence for now and turned to gaze out the porthole, watching the surging nighttime sea.
“I haven’t even arrived yet, and I’m already busy worrying about things over there… Well, it’s a rare sort of experience.”
Looking out through the porthole, Dorothy reflected inwardly. She mentally reviewed her travel schedule and calculated the ship’s current location. Everything seemed to be on track—she would make it in time for the upcoming drama.
“Returning to Tivian and being welcomed with something like this… Pritt’s societies sure know how to roll out the red carpet.”
Dorothy muttered in her heart. After the mental jab, she closed her eyes and began to pray silently.
“O Great Aka, Recorder of All Things—I offer this prayer. I request to initiate real-time communication with Hunter Mayschoss. The itinerary of Lady Devonshire… has been acquired.”