Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Daily Life
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A 5-star hotel in Russian Siberia. A building that had already been devoured by anomalies, turning the haunted hotel itself into reality.
Someone strode into the top-floor room, throwing open the door.
A middle-aged man with snow-white hair and a cleanly shaved beard.
It was Eddie Howard, famous in certain circles as the mage who commanded anomalies. He irritably shrugged off his coat and glared at the man already waiting in the hotel room.
"The Monkey Dream got snatched."
"...."
"The location was Korea. But it appeared and vanished almost immediately. Too fast to pin on the Management Bureau."
"Isn't the Korean Management Bureau famous for being competent from the start? Way better than lazy China or Russia here, where they pretty much let things slide."
"Even so, they don't pinpoint and hunt anomalies the moment they appear. Something's definitely up."
Eddie said as he plopped down across from the man seated at the round table.
The blond man with green eyes smiled faintly and offered Eddie a glass of wine.
"Have a drink and cool off. You'll age faster stressing like that."
"....Hoo, damn it."
Eddie spat curses as he gulped down the wine. The man watched, quietly stroking his chin.
"Speaking of which, Korea.... It flew all the way to a pretty unusual place. They've got a ton of weird groups there."
"I know. They've got a mage community despite not being England, and a group of exorcists called shamans. Even the psychics have banded together."
"Looks like they've got a knack for networking. Or maybe they just teamed up to avoid getting stabbed in the back."
"They're nothing like Japan next door. Sure, Japan has its oddballs too, but the only ones to watch there are the shrine maidens and the Management Bureau."
"No helping it. Anyway, instead of griping about what's done, how about we talk plans?"
The man tapped the table with his finger and grinned. Eddie felt an urge to stab that perpetually relaxed face with a knife but held back, exhaling deeply.
No matter what anyone said, the man before him was the leader of a mage organization and the owner of an Outer God's grimoire. Charging in recklessly would likely get him killed instead.
[Mystic Apocalypse].
A grimoire capable of transforming those he personally killed into anomalies. The theme parks opened worldwide were his handiwork.
The number of lives sacrificed in the process was overwhelming. It was no coincidence he'd been spotted in India and China.
"...."
Right behind him stood an anomaly guarding him like a sentinel.
A female bodyguard with no head—in its place, a book was embedded. Once human, now a grimoire repository, she held a gun in one hand and clutched an eye in the other, staring piercingly at Eddie.
Any funny business, and he'd be dead before he could act.
Of course, Eddie had no intention of dying yet. He unclenched his fist, raised his wine glass, and spoke.
"...What plan are you talking about?"
"You know. I provide you with an anomaly, you use it to grow stronger. Then you do one thing I ask. That's our deal, right?"
"...You call that a plan?"
"Well, it's part of the big picture I'm painting. Anyway, seems like the first step went wrong."
The man took a sip of wine and looked at Eddie.
"We blew a chance pretty pointlessly, so you'll have to focus on growing anomalies for a while. What should I provide this time? Random drop based on conditions like last time? Gacha-style for that dopamine hit?"
"...Yeah. Give me one that's easy to control but has plenty of growth potential. And limit it to appearing in specific countries."
"Hmm... Got it. I'll pick some suitable ones and send them over. Don't get killed in reverse."
The man said with a faint smile.
"Now, settlement time. In exchange for handing over an anomaly and its control, you follow one order of mine."
"...."
Eddie clamped his mouth shut and glared. Ignoring it, the man pondered briefly before slowly moving his lips.
"Ah, this'll do. Lately, the grimoire's been spouting weird stuff. Something about Recomposer of All Things finding a suitable host, or Master of the Outer Sea dropping a grimoire on Earth. You know."
"...."
"Both are Outer Gods, right? So, track down the locations of the grimoires they used and get info on their owners. I'll give you plenty of time."
"...You're already holding one Outer God's grimoire, and now you want others' too?"
"Haha, what a obvious thing to say."
The man tilted his head and smiled softly.
"Got to handle threats decisively."
*
Vatican City, the tiny independent state in Italy.
Land ruled by the Pope, home to the Papal Curia managing churches worldwide.
Outwardly just a ordinary religious holy site, but they too dabbled in anomalies. Though their nature had changed, the title Heresy Inquisitor still applied to dealing with them.
Beyond that, they handled eliminating those colluding with or corrupted by anomalies—that was the current role of Heresy Inquisitors.
Bound tightly by solemn doctrines and faith, most were stubborn as logs.
But exceptions exist everywhere.
"Hmm...."
Cecilia Capone.
Exposed to anomalies from birth, raised lifelong in the Vatican—a devout believer and Heresy Inquisitor.
She ignored the morning mass alarm, pulling the blanket over her head. Her petite frame curled cat-like on the bed.
She'd just returned from dealing with a werewolf lurking in Italy until dawn. Exhaustion crushed her body, seeping into her eyelids. She needed more sleep.
Mass in this state? She'd just doze off and get smacked. No need to go.
So, skip it.
Yep.
Rest when resting—that was her motto.
"Hey, Capone!"
But devout Catholics wouldn't leave her be.
"Get up, you lazy cat bitch!"
Her roommate, Federica—famous for her foul mouth—yanked off Cecilia's blanket and hoisted her up by the armpit.
"Uwa...."
Cecilia flailed, but Federica shook her up and down relentlessly.
"You have to go to morning mass, you idiot! You'll get on the archbishop's bad side!"
"I'm already on it.... He said if I don't pray before eating again, he'll lock me in penance."
"Then why are you lazing here?!"
"Tired...."
Federica sighed deeply at Cecilia's words, glancing at her nun habit.
Black-based for Heresy Inquisitors, modified for mobility—but it couldn't hide bloodstains. Torn to shreds and blood-soaked, a dark red pool formed beneath Cecilia's clothes.
Proof the dawn battle hadn't been easy. Without her regeneration, she'd have been werewolf chow long ago.
"...Haa."
Finally, Federica set Cecilia down and sighed again.
Cecilia's regeneration was impressive, but not free. It required massive calories; once depleted, it burned life force.
Good that she was just tired, not groaning—meant no life force used—but still taxing.
"Hng...? Federica...?"
Cecilia rubbed her eyes, looking up at the suddenly silent woman. Federica sighed once more and bonked her on the crown.
"Uek!"
Hard enough to draw a weird yelp. Ignoring it, Federica left for mass after her piece.
"Jorjio the cardinal was looking for you. Probably for dispatch. If skipping mass, go there first."
"...Jorjio? That weird-looking grandpa?"
"Yeah, that one. Pull any weird poses in front of him again, and he'll confiscate all your comics."
"...Gold Expi—"
"Shut it."
Click, thud!
Federica shut the door. Cecilia yawned, headed to the bathroom for a quick wash.
Dried her hair, slathered on sunscreen, donned the bloodied habit.
Morning mass time—Papal Curia halls empty. She reached Jorjio's office undisturbed.
Knock knock.
"Cecilia Capone here. May I enter?"
"...Come in."
She opened the door at the reply.
Jorjio, just tapping his laptop, stared incredulously.
"...Why now? What about morning mass?"
"Tired...."
"Still, you must attend. Beg Him to watch over another new day."
"...I'll do it later. But you didn't go either, Cardinal."
"I was up since dawn.... Never mind. Sit."
She did.
Jorjio poured instant coffee from the office stash and handed it over.
"Devil's sludge...."
"Don't blaspheme."
He sipped, slid a document across the table. Cecilia lapped at the coffee cat-like while scanning it.
[Grimoire Tracking.]
Topped with that title. Below: prophecy of a new Outer God grimoire—dispatch to Korea.
Cecilia's eyes widened at Jorjio.
"...Am I being demoted to Korea now?"
"Is that the point? An Outer God's grimoire appeared—in Korea."
Jorjio chuckled dryly, tapping the paper.
"Track it, assess the owner's tendencies, decide disposal yourself."
"...Not kill?"
"Use your judgment."
"I'm bad at that...."
"I know. But vague orders like this yielded better results. Go to Korea, get help from local Catholics, track the grimoire owner. Build rapport or make enemies—your call."
Heavy mission. Seemed too slapdash.
But Papal Curia prophets and oracles said so. Often wrong like weather forecasts, but sometimes right. No veto for Cecilia.
One issue, though.
"...But I don't speak Korean."
Cecilia was Italian-born. Knew some English, nothing else.
Jorjio knew. He smiled kindly, pulled a book from the shelf.
[Let's Study Together! Basic Korean Learning Playground!]
[785 pages]
Hardly basic, no playground thickness.
Cecilia eyed him questioningly. He sipped coffee.
"Departure in a week. Memorize basic greetings by then."
"...Study? I dropped out of middle school?"
"You quit high school because you hated it.... Ahem, you bailed on studies. You're an adult now—time to learn. Life's endless learning."
Jorjio clasped hands smiling.
"Do it."
"...."
Cecilia wanted to cry.
*
Two hours after entering the officetel, Ian successfully exorcised all but a few necessary anomalies.
Two ghosts left on purpose.
One guard ghost attacking intruders, the other elevator ghost. Unlike the mostly harmful others, these had uses.
Guard ghost: obvious. If outsiders or burglars entered, it'd retaliate instantly.
Elevator ghost: auto-pressed buttons without input—desperately pitched, so kept. Probably more tricks, but enough for now.
"Good. Do well."
Ian patted the trembling ghosts' shoulders, entered the contracted room to inspect.
Nice place. Spacious, well-kept. He nodded satisfied, instructing the ghosts.
"Don't come out except on duty. Got it?"
Nod nod.
They bobbed heads frantically.
Room secured. Ian smoked in the officetel smoking area, taxied home.
Next day.
Up early, one message.
[Boss: Ian, convenience store rebuilt! Time to clock in!]
"Ah."
Ian scratched his messy hair, sat up.
Hadn't told them he quit, huh.
Better handle that first.