Chapter 280
Chapter 280
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 280
Chapter Title: Interlude 2: Witches' Gathering
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What image comes to mind when you think of Mexico?
Drugs, gangs, unstable security, slums?
These are, by and large, accurate impressions.
Like most Latin American countries, Mexico is plagued by corrupt politicians and cartels that wield more power and firepower than the central government itself.
They've built their own kingdoms on the smuggling industry, importing drugs produced in places like Colombia and Venezuela.
They execute rival organizations, politicians, journalists, and even military and police without mercy, laying the foundation for a reign of terror.
Even ordinary civilians aren't safe—if a critical voice is heard, they're brutally executed, their bodies left strewn along roadsides.
Take Ciudad Juárez, a border city near the U.S. As an example of the drug wars, it sees around 10,000 casualties annually, with a murder rate of over 200 per 100,000 people in the worst years. This is the root of the widespread notion that "Mexico is dangerous."
But that's a story limited to the border regions, where cartel wars and the drug trade rage fiercest. Head down to Mexico City, the largest city in the south, and things change.
Mexico City, home to the federal government and embassies, is a place even cartels hesitate to touch outright. It enjoys considerable stability and prosperity as a result.
Especially in Polanco, the heart of the city. Sixteenth-century European-style architecture and statues blend seamlessly among the skyscrapers, creating a prosperity that makes it impossible to imagine this is the "dangerous Mexico."
At the center of this urban core stands a lofty building untouched even by the notorious smog. From its top floor at the Saint Ray Mexico City hotel—offering a stunning night view like stars blooming in the darkness—a meeting of witches began.
There were four participants in total.
Not a formal assembly but a private summons, this was still far fewer than the heyday when the public enemy collective "Clifot" held sway.
Countless public enemies had perished during the 1883 invasion of Gehenna, so it was unavoidable.
"How long has it been since we all gathered like this? Twenty years ago, maybe?"
Not everyone invited had arrived, but Bianca Belliri, the Witch of Desire, confirmed the time and twisted her side-swept hair with a smile.
Her abundant peach-blonde locks cascaded elegantly over her shoulders, and her jade-green eyes gleamed undimmed even in the dim lighting.
"Why are you in the head seat?"
Bianca responded leisurely to the sharp voice calling her out.
"You're in my city, and I'm the host. Isn't it natural for me to take the head seat, 'Kleh Asmode'?"
"Not convincing. Either move the chair or bring out something better than this swill. Who do you think you're serving this cheap crap to?"
No one else objected to her position, save for Kleh, who voiced her complaints with a prickly edge.
Bianca had unified Mexico's massive cartels—from the major players to the minor ones scattered across remote regions—into a single force.
With a throne built on tens of thousands of tons of drugs and a hundred times that in corpses, it was hard to call her words exaggerated.
The real reason for Kleh's ire was their bad blood. More precisely, Kleh's one-sided loathing of Bianca.
As the owner of Colombia's drug production plants, Kleh had been squeezed for enormous sums by Bianca's greed during North American distribution. Magic research demanded no small fortune, after all.
"Fighting right after we reunite? Kids are always so full of energy~"
The witch in the nun's habit leaned back languidly, smiling indulgently.
Though her habit was a bit loose-fitting, it did little to hide her voluptuous figure.
"Shut your trap, you big-titted bitch."
"That's harsh. Who do you think supplies weapons for your little wars?"
Kleh bristled like a cat with its tail stepped on, firing back instantly.
The atmosphere was anything but cordial.
It couldn't be helped.
These gathered witches were infamous members of Clifot—the public enemies—and among them, the grand witches with especially formidable influence and magic.
They had survived the purges of Kether Duke and Tiphereth Duke, amassed countless foes, and still built their own domains. The worst of the public enemies.
They rode the same boat out of shared interests, cooperating sporadically, but were fundamentally hostile to one another.
Consider the Aquarius Witch, once part of Clifot—once her death was confirmed, her territories and rights were torn apart and scattered to the winds. Mutual wariness was only natural.
"I want to know why you've called this impromptu gathering."
A dry, impassive voice cut through the clamor.
The speaker had hair as black as if painted by a brush, and ash-gray eyes that brooked no second of wasted time.
"Isn't it obvious? You've all been watching the recent incident with fire in your eyes."
"Your beating around the bush is fucking disgusting."
Everyone ignored Kleh's jab at Bianca, and the conversation flowed naturally.
"The Witch of Cowardice?"
"That's right."
The Witch of Cowardice had no ties to Clifot.
Unlike these four, she wandered alone without building a faction, her goals entirely different from the start.
Thus, there was no need for collaboration or conflict mediation.
Yet these witches monitored her closely because she had served admirably as a lab rat.
"She caused a disaster in one of the world's top metropolises with four-digit casualties. She conducted an obvious mass-murder magic experiment right in the city center. But Kether didn't stir."
"Just as the Witch of Whispers said."
"The info smuggled from the Prophecy Agency was credible from the start."
"I don't like that sneaky bitch anyway."
Despite their immense power, these witches had lurked in the shadows, never revealing themselves to the world.
The source of that restraint was obvious: Kether Duke, whom all witches revered in awe.
"The Cowardice Witch proves the prophecy holds. Kether isn't choosing not to act. She can't."
"But that's too risky to bank on entirely~ Lilith hasn't exactly been above lying or scheming in the past."
"She has spoken truth before. She aided Clifot in various ways. Can't be trusted, but..."
"Are you all insane? You know what kind of person she is. Trusting her now is laughable."
Kleh laughed scornfully in disbelief.
Setting aside her blatant mockery, her point was valid.
Lilith, the Witch of Whispers, was utterly untrustworthy.
No one knew her true aims as she sowed chaos and confusion everywhere.
She offered zero trust even as a business partner. No one even knew her witch name.
"If you've dragged me here just to parrot that bat-like bitch's words, I'm out. Not worth hearing. Pathetic."
"Same school, different views~ I still want to watch and wait."
"Come on, let's not fight. Hear me out."
Bianca clapped to quell the brewing chaos, drawing all eyes as she provocatively laid out her pitch with casual poise.
"Aren't you tired of cowering in fear of Kether? It's ridiculous, honestly. Back in the day, there was no such thing as 'public enemies.' Witches did whatever it took for magic—that was just how it was. Now we're stuffed into this cage of oppression, and even as the culprit stays silent, you'll huddle forever under her shadow?"
"Repetition. I still can't trust the 'prophecy.'"
"I know one example isn't enough. That's why I called you here."
Bianca got to the point.
"If you still doubt the Witch of Whispers, I'll be the second lab rat. I'll cross that terrifying stone bridge for you all."
"Sounds great. Hope you croak."
Kleh spat curses but sat back down, intrigued despite herself.
"I'll prove the prophecy again."
"Won't drink from the Grail if it's poisoned by word alone? Ah, I get it~"
"In exchange for taking the risk, I'd like you all here to guarantee my interests."
That was it.
Bianca was bargaining: Verify the prophecy that Kether Duke can no longer act, and in return, secure various rights.
Every witch present was tied, directly or indirectly, to Bianca's enterprises.
"Show me a little goodwill, and I'll deliver results with utmost sincerity."
"......"
The others instantly grasped her intent and began calculating in their heads.
To public enemies, Kether was like an anti-tank mine underfoot.
They tiptoed above it now, but it was a shackle and wall that could explode unpredictably.
The "prophecy" from the Prophecy Agency, relayed by the Witch of Whispers, wasn't to be dismissed lightly.
An institution whose millennium-spanning history had never once erred.
Of course, Lilith was utterly unreliable. But what if her whim had delivered unvarnished truth this time?
If it meant unleashing long-suppressed magic experiments and ventures freely?
And if someone else bore the life-risking trial and error?
It was a tantalizing offer—hard to refuse, worth paying handsomely for.
"I'm in~"
"Me too."
"If you die, I'll gobble up your puppets."
"Quick decisions."
All accepted Bianca's proposal.
More attendees might have yielded greater gains, but Bianca was satisfied.
Things proceeded smoothly after that.
Bianca's demands were modest compared to the life-on-the-line cost, and she even agreed to take half the payment after confirmed results.
The other three found her uncharacteristically deferential, but the deal closed.
"Good. We're not exactly friends chatting amicably, so shall we wrap this up?"
"I don't wanna hear your nauseating voice anymore either."
"......"
"Don't be so cold~ We've known each other quite a while~"
"See you next time, then."
-Clap!
Bianca clapped again, silencing the room.
The hotel's lights blazed on, transforming the conference table.
"Guhh... Grk...!"
The three witches who had leisurely dominated the table—noisily, quietly, languidly—were gone.
In their place, Bianca sat calmly before three humans foaming blood at the mouth and eyes, dying.
The magic of remote projection through proxy vessels.
The other witches hadn't traveled to Mexico City in person; they'd attended via magic.
Of course, no ordinary human could withstand a witch's vast knowledge and mana bare-bodied.
The poor sacrifices' brains pulped the moment the ritual ended, but that was hardly important.
"Hah...!"
Bianca suddenly let out a heated sigh.
From a blind spot invisible to the witches at the other table, someone had been crawling under her skirt the entire meeting, licking her most intimate place.
"Whew, almost lost it. That's enough. Come out."
Someone crawled hesitantly from between her spread legs.
A bob haircut broken below the shoulders, a body like a pitiful flower.
Ruby-red eyes, blood-soaked, looked up at Bianca Belliri in fear.
A face so heartbreakingly delicate no true witch could possess it—now vulgarly smeared with sticky love juices and saliva.
"Your technique's improved lately, hasn't it? My dear Ea."
"......"
Bianca's newly acquired pet, whom all believed dead.
The witch's identity: Ea Sadalmelik.
The infamous Aquarius Witch.