Chapter 395
Chapter 395
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 395
Chapter Title: The Ball (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Five minutes after receiving clearance from Border Town's immigration office and crossing the 'gate', Siu arrived at the rendezvous point.
A transparently fragile sky mingled with the briny sea air and the stench of oil.
Heavy machinery dwarfing ordinary buildings hauled parts larger than trucks, visible everywhere.
Just fifteen minutes remained until noon.
Siu bit down on a cigarette and checked the cloak draped over his shoulders.
It wouldn't hinder his arm movements, yet the cords lining the inside were linked to his wrists, allowing him to envelop his body at a moment's notice—a masterfully crafted garment.
The real reason Siu had sought out Flora Arabesque was, frankly, like clutching at any straw.
All the myriad artifacts wielded by the Witch of Desire shared one trait.
They were weapons capable of striking from long range.
Even with the Virgin's Loom at his disposal, Siu's domain was close-quarters melee.
Clover alone couldn't bridge that gap, so he needed another tool.
Combining the scattered clues he'd gathered so far led to an answer.
The conversation he'd had with Flora herself while getting his swimsuit fitted.
'Nothing I can't teach you. Clothes I really put my mind into can fend off just about any magic.'
And the offhand exchange with Viscount Yesod.
'If she'd kept at her magic research... Not that anyone knows, but she'd have reached incredible heights by now, right? She's been at the 22nd Hierarchy since time immemorial.'
The moment Siu stepped into the tailor's shop, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the floor.
He requested a cloak of 'Ceremonial Robe' grade, channeling her Nature Magic to its utmost.
Her reaction?
Exactly as expected.
Unlike with Periwinkle, they had no ties beyond the three outfits he'd commissioned.
It was a near-absurd demand: craft a man's cloak—nothing fancy-looking at that—with top-tier defensive capabilities.
'Don't be a bother. Out with you.' That was probably her idea of politeness.
But fortune favored him.
Siu carried a platinum card and letter of credit issued in the name of the Jemernai family.
He handed them over to Flora.
Even she, who seemed perpetually disinterested and annoyed unless something piqued her fancy, flashed a knowing smile and accepted his proposal.
Honestly, he dreaded imagining how many gold coins had transferred from that credit to Flora's coffers.
Viscount Albireo, who'd trusted him with it, deserved an apology—but if Siu survived, he'd make it right somehow.
"Hoo..."
All preparations were complete.
The instant he exhaled cigarette smoke and took a step forward,
the world froze.
A silence so profound it felt unnatural.
The bustling workers scurrying about the shipyard, the heavy machinery, the cranes—all halted as if by some cruel jest.
Most strikingly, beyond that single step, the world plunged into night.
He had entered the Backside Boundary.
But this was no ordinary barrier.
It had been conjured by an artifact in Bianca's possession, just as the records described.
"......"
Emotions too tangled to even sort in his mind.
Yet sometimes, the moment they spill from the lips, they coalesce into a single sentence.
"I'm probably gonna die."
Terrifying.
Frightening.
He wanted to run, even now.
The situation had unfolded so abruptly that he hadn't even said goodbyes to the twins, his master, Sharon, or the others.
"But I'd rather die than fail."
Compared to this reckless charge, Don Quixote's assault on the windmill must have seemed profoundly cautious and thoughtful.
And yet, what anchored his feet was the bond of friendship with the comrade who'd upheld their pact—and the rage toward the enemy who'd crushed that friend.
Hesitation and doubt sloughed away like edges honed sharp.
Siu removed his eyepatch and opened the eye he'd kept covered.
Before him loomed a massive ship still under construction within the enormous drydock.
Its scale evoked buildings fused together, its majesty all the more palpable with its lower hull unsubmerged.
He checked his cloak once more and slung his spear over his shoulder.
With all work lights extinguished in the gloom, the stern alone twinkled with light, as if beckoning him.
Siu leaped aboard, only to cock his head in bewilderment.
A container ship was a cargo vessel.
Empty, it resembled an elongated chain of oversized baskets crammed together to maximize container capacity—a purely utilitarian design, aesthetics and charm sacrificed entirely, unlike a passenger liner.
Yet the stern, where the cargo hold should have gaped open, featured instead a lavish deck straight out of a luxury cruise ship. Soft, inviting lights greeted Siu.
It shattered every expectation of a savage bloodbath.
"......"
Everything felt utterly disorienting when someone emerged from the shadows ahead.
Siu gripped his spear on reflex.
Attired in impeccable gentleman's suit and polished shoes, clutching an antique ledger... it was no human.
"Mr. Shin Siu, we are honored by your acceptance of our invitation."
A skull with hollowed eye sockets and nasal cavity.
Even the hands and wrists protruding from the suit jacket were gleaming white bone.
It looked exactly like a photorealistic rendition of a fantasy skeleton.
With no vocal cords, its voice resonated like quivering air—likely a golem or summoned familiar.
The skeleton offered a deep, comically courteous bow and extended the ledger and pen like a impeccably trained waiter.
"Would you kindly sign here before entering?"
"What the hell is this?"
"Would you kindly sign here?"
"......"
"Entry is not possible without your signature."
Evidently lacking sophisticated cognition, it gave off the vibe of an NPC with rudimentary AI.
Siu accepted the ledger warily.
The parchment-like paper bore the name Bianca Bellili in bold, sweeping script.
No options anyway.
He dipped the pen and scrawled Shin Siu across the page.
-Hummm
A wave of mana visibly enveloped his body.
It resembled the sensation from contracting with Eloa.
The ledger itself was the artifact—a mutual contract enforcer.
"Thank you. Follow the carpet, and Lady Bellili awaits."
"......"
"Enjoy your time."
The hatch to the cargo hold slid open.
A red carpet stretched down a long corridor below.
Lights out, the dim, cramped passage twisted onward.
Each step carried the crushing weight of impending doom, tension thickening with every breath.
Two doors and a corner later, the vast cargo hold emerged—vast enough for dozens of containers.
Crisscrossing steel bulkheads evoked a jungle gym for giants.
-Pop! Pop! Pop!
The moment Siu entered, stage LED lights flickered on in sequence.
Tiny bulbs coiled around pillars and railings erupted in a rainbow blaze, joined by rising fireworks, confetti—even lively music from somewhere.
The stark, desolate space transformed in an instant into an exotic carnival.
"¡Hola!"
Bianca Bellili appeared under the spotlight with a buoyant shout, lightly dancing to the rhythm while clutching her skirt hems.
"I wholeheartedly welcome you to my party!"
She flung her arms wide like a stage actress, beaming radiantly.
"......"
Siu's utter lack of response deflated her; she pouted.
"Come on like that? I prepared so hard."
None of it mattered.
The whims of this deranged Public Enemy.
Whatever lay ahead.
Nothing mattered but one thing.
"Where's Takasho?"
This place matched the crystal orb's vision perfectly.
The dark bloodstain at Bianca's feet beneath the spotlight confirmed it.
"Straight to business? How about a dance first?"
"Takasho first."
Bianca snapped her fingers with a sigh of boredom; the thumping music and billowing dry ice ceased abruptly.
"Time's right. You brought the Red Branch, came alone. Played along with your little entrance gimmick. Now release Takasho."
"That worried about your friend?"
Her emerald eyes gazed pityingly at the party-crashing guest.
In stark contrast, her lips curved in a melting, rotten-cheese grin.
"No need to fret. Takasho kept me plenty entertained."
Somehow, he'd sensed it.
A chilling premonition crawling up his spine even before her words.
"Filmed the video and poked three holes in him, then dumped him in the sea. So don't worry yourself over whether he's savable."
"......"
Deep down, he'd known.
Bianca was no Suchitl.
Unlike Suchitl, who in regret had sought—even wrongly—to atone for her errors, this was a breed apart.
Pure evil, like Ea Sadalmelik—no room for reform or mitigation.
"Not as shocked as I thought. Then why come here? Fancy my looks?"
Takasho wasn't like Siu.
No magic at his command, nor Gehenna's first male witch.
Once the bait video was shot, he held no further value.
To a Public Enemy, he was a dime-a-dozen talking ant—utterly expendable.
Hence no intent to honor the deal, discarded so casually.
"Honestly, I don't wanna fight. Egg versus rock only works once or twice. Battling monsters like you terrifies and hurts. Might be better off as a slave."
"Perfect. Hand over your weapon and come quietly. I'll treat you royally as a test subject or slave."
But not to Siu.
To him, amidst that horrific agony, Takasho had clung fiercely to their friendship—an irreplaceable comrade.
The pent-up torrent of emotion shattered the dam, surging forth.
Reckless or not.
Ridiculous or not.
Even if death awaited.
A searing blaze brooked no compromise.
"You kill my friend... and think you can just take me?"
The golden eye, unshielded by the patch, began devouring mana.
The overwhelming mana torrent shook the surroundings like a gale, swelling into a tempest.
"Fine. Give it a shot."
Seething shadows cloaked his form.
The supple, forged armor settled into a dull, murky sheen.
The unchecked crimson spear tip blazed as if on the verge of melting.
From the helmet's slit, a pair of eyes blazed with fury for his fallen comrade, glaring down the formidable foe.
An opponent impossible to defeat.
"But you'd better stake your life too."
"Ahahaha!"
With Bianca's explosive laughter, as if at the finest jest,
the ball of death commenced.