Returning to the old haunt, but everything had changed. If not for Qian Ning’s crisis, Ode would have savored his revenge far more thoroughly. But with a life hanging in the balance, the moment he dealt with his target, he didn’t hesitate. He activated the Time Alchemy Array glowing in his right palm—the one he redrew every morning with fresh gold powder, just in case—and pressed it firmly against Qian Ning’s body. “Do you have any first-aid items on you?”
Two figures in crow masks suddenly appeared at Ode’s side amid the swirling fallen leaves. “No. But we can call for reinforcements from the outpost. Who is he? Why’s he in such bad shape? Before the mission, Director Faust said your Charm Value was sky-high. Why not use seduction to minimize the damage?”
Ode: “…”
You might not believe it, but this was the result of seduction.
Twenty minutes later, outside the witness holding room at the GORCC London Outpost.
Ode peered through the one-way glass. Inside, the battered Blondie was being pieced back together good as new—even his cerebral cortex seemed to have gotten a fresh coat of paint. “What ‘unspeakable secret’? You guys shooting a movie or something? Other than that Playboy under the bed, what dirty little secret could I possibly have?”
“You know this lucid state of yours is only temporary, right?” the outpost interrogator said coldly. “The moment we remove that array under the hospital bed, you’ll slide right back into that muddled haze—”
“Yo?” Qian Ning’s tone took on a note of genuine surprise. “Sounds like you lot know your way around the spooky stuff. Fine, then. I’m not dying to keep any secrets.”
Ode raised an eyebrow at the sound of his voice.
Qian Ning sounded utterly nonchalant, but anyone who had witnessed the man’s desperate resolve—biting through his own tongue to end it all—couldn’t possibly believe he’d spill his guts so easily.
Ode was even starting to wonder if Qian Ning had been playing dumb all along. Maybe now, after hearing the interrogator out, he saw a chance to use GORCC for his own ends.
Inside the holding room, Qian Ning leaned back, relaxing into the bed. His face—nobody could say which parent it favored more—was pale from blood loss. Against the stark white sheets, he almost looked weakly refined. But his usual antics were so brazen that most people pictured that unruly mop of blond hair first and foremost when they thought of him.
“You’ve been asking why I ended up in that dump, right? Truth is, I can’t explain it myself. But I suspect it’s got something to do with that African statue my brother gave me. You know the kind—ugly as sin craftwork.”
“Ever since that thing crossed the threshold, I’ve been out of it. Can’t sleep, haunted by this urge to run off in some direction. Hey, aren’t you the experts on this stuff? I can cooperate. Come home with me, and I’ll hand the damn thing over!”
A wisp of fragrant smoke drifted silently across Ode’s field of vision.
He turned to follow it and spotted Faust casually waving away the white mist of a teleport, then snatching up the earpiece on the nearby table. “Ask him what this ‘unspeakable secret’ is. I’m curious now… If he can blab so freely about his family buying cursed junk, just how precious is this secret that he’d rather chew through his own tongue than let it slip?”
In the holding room, the interrogator relayed Faust’s question.
Qian Ning’s face twisted in irritation. “I said no, no, no! Are you a broken record or what? Obsessing over this nonexistent bullshit—how many times do I have to repeat myself?”
“Do you even believe your own story? This after you bit your tongue to kill yourself over that ‘nonexistent’ secret?”
Qian Ning’s expression darkened for a split second, clear regret flashing for his earlier slip—admitting to the secret in the first place.
But he quickly plastered on a grin again. “I said no, so it’s no. What more do you want? Even if we’re being generous here, aren’t I the victim? How come I’m getting treated like a perp?”
The interrogator pressed on. “Mr. Qian Ning, we have plenty of ways to extract the intel we need. If you’re truly innocent, why put yourself in such a vulnerable spot?”
Qian Ning’s smile stayed fixed, but his blue eyes were dead and icy. Ode could tell: if the interrogator pushed too hard, he’d happily repeat his suicide stunt. “What ways? Like Ode’s trick—planting one on me to personally finish the job?”
“Seriously, why not let Ode in here to chat? I’d love to ask him how losing a grandfather turned the golden boy into a sellout hanging with you ghost-hunting weirdos. Learning to whore himself out, even… Ha! Who’d buy that? The socialite heartthrob from a month ago, fallen this low?”
Ode paused for a moment, then casually slipped the crystal ashtray from the coffee table into his pocket. Faust, mid-ash-flick, stared back in stunned disbelief. “Let me give it a shot. Since he’s specifically asking for me, he won’t clam up once I’m inside.”
Faust’s hand hung frozen in midair. “…Fine, but can you put the ashtray down first? What’s it for, beating up a witness on the way in?”
Ode met his gaze innocently. “I’m not. You must be seeing things. No ashtray here.”
Faust: “…Put it down. I haven’t grilled you yet. What did you do to keep Qian Ning alive until backup arrived?” His eyes darted to Ode’s right hand, tucked behind his back. “Stop hiding it. Let me see!”
Ode sighed, trying to reason with him. “You don’t want to know.”
“Bullshit.” Faust jammed the cigar between his teeth, bent down with one hand bracing the chair cushion, and seized Ode’s wrist with the other. He yanked the hand into view. “I’ve lived this long—what could possibly—shit!”
Ode tsked and twisted free, flicking the ash that had tumbled onto his palm from Faust’s dropped cigar. “Told you you wouldn’t want to know.”
“…Shit!” Faust glared for a long beat before cursing again.
Fuming, he shot to his feet, jabbing the air with his cigar in a fit of irritation. “You little punk! Stealing my ace in the hole! I oughta—I—you’re adopting me as your godfather, at minimum.”
Ode’s mouth twitched. “Pass. Then I’d have to sit on your lap for end-of-term exams.”
Faust ground his teeth in frustration. But after a moment, he reined it in, clamping down on the cigar butt. “Don’t use that thing lightly.”
“The old me handed it over for a reason—and must’ve warned you. It’s my gambit to steal divine authority. The moment you use it, there’s a real risk of catching a sharp-eyed god’s attention… You’re just lucky this time. If a deity had locked onto you, I’d be collecting your corpse right now.”
Ode paused slightly at Faust’s warning.
Maybe he wasn’t so lucky after all.
Maybe a god’s deathly gaze had already fixed on him.
Suddenly, the “gift” from Nyarlathotep on his dorm nightstand made perfect sense. The first time he’d used the Alchemy Array, that chaotic messenger must have sensed him.
But…
Someone had vouched for him.
Someone had shouldered the blame for the array, convincing Nyarlathotep—or at least making the deity less certain—that he posed no threat to the divine.
That explained why the “gift” was just a string of solvable pranks, not instant death.
Unbidden, Ode recalled Cavendish’s expression that day in the sea breeze—watching him brazenly usurp divine power right in front of him.
What had the man been feeling then? And what calculations led that clearly threatened deity to back him up when Nyarlathotep came knocking?
Ode’s fingers clenched slightly, but the next instant, he slapped away Faust’s hand reaching for the ashtray—too late.
Old foxes were sly as ever. Faust deftly flipped him onto the couch, taking a kick to the gut but snatching the ashtray clean.
“There. Go on.” Faust smugly tapped ash into it, as if daring him to pocket it ash and all. “No need for an interrogation. Just take him home for the wood carving. Without strangers watching, he might open up to you.”
·
Clearly, both Ode and Faust had underestimated Qian Ning’s resolve to keep his secrets.
On the drive from the outpost to the Qian Ning Residence, the infamous pretty boy with no real substance babbled nonsense for a solid half hour. Only as they neared the destination did he show hesitation. When the GORCC undercover taxi pulled up, he planted himself in the doorway, blocking Ode’s exit.
“Look… how strong are you, really? I’ve been grilling you about GORCC the whole ride, and you dodged every question.”
Ode found the mutual stonewalling perfectly equitable. He simply hoisted the burly Qian Ning one-handed aside like luggage and stepped out with his long legs. “Not enough to die on you. Besides, we’re just grabbing a statue, right?”
Qian Ning choked on that, itching to stall further—but something hard jammed into his lower back. “What the—ow! Q—”
Ode smiled like sunshine itself as he prodded Qian Ning’s lower back again with the Beretta. “The longer we tangle here on the street, the more attention we draw. No matter what you’re scared of… stay calm. If it’s that dangerous, couldn’t you just escort your old classmate in and out smoothly?”
“…F-Fine. You better stay sharp.” Qian Ning clearly regretted his choice already. He probably hadn’t figured that the investigators sent after his statue tip would include his old classmate. A month ago, they were still sharing poli-sci lectures at Mida University—nothing to do with gym class.
The two pretended to be long-lost pals, chatting about gems like “Stepping into the real world really puts school drama in perspective,” “This morning, I almost pocketed an ashtray before heading out,” “Huh? My house has plenty of ashtrays… Wait, you’re not planning to brain me with it, are you?!” They strolled toward the private mansion, laughing like old times.
“Young Master Qian Ning the Second.” The door swung open to reveal a young maid in heavy makeup. Her talons-for-nails nearly gouged the door as her hand lingered on the knob. “And this is…? What a handsome guest.”
Qian Ning’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly on Ode’s shoulder, but his face remained split in a hearty laugh as he scolded her. “That’s so rude! How can you flirt with the guest before he’s even stepped inside? Go get us a fruit platter. Skip the tea—my classmate’s in a rush to catch a flight. He’ll chat with me a bit, then be on his way.”
Ode’s gaze flicked over the skin peeking from beneath the maid’s lace collar and her manicured nails before he nodded politely. “I hope my uninvited visit isn’t disturbing the master of the house.”
The maid didn’t pick up on Ode’s subtle probe. She simply stared at him, giggling behind her hand. “Oh, it shouldn’t. The only one’s home today is the eldest young master. He’s heading out soon and coming downstairs any minute. You might even cross paths.”
Her stare was so blatant it seemed like she might lunge forward and sink her teeth into Ode’s neck at any second.
At the same time, a rustling came from the far end of the otherwise empty foyer hallway. Heads poked out from behind the corner, like little imps silently clawing the walls, watching the fresh meat at the entrance with drooling eyes.
…
If the maid hadn’t been standing so close, Ode would have asked Qian Ning outright, “You live in a creepy hellhole like this every day?”
