Mirror World: Destined Return

“What do you think, tiger?” asked Pseraslav, who had put his black robe back on, to Ranko beside him as they walked down a dark alley.

“About what?” Ranko replied.

“About Cheon Seong-Hwi.”

“He’s quite the talent.”

“Right? I thought humanity would soon become extinct once I heard Lee Kang-San was dead.”

“Keh! I knew you were playing dumb. You’re goddamn pitch-black on the inside, damn wolf.”

“Well, you’re pitch-black on the outside, damn tiger.”

Pseraslav and Ranko were chatting as they had back when they were children, but their minds were mostly focused on the plan Seong-Hwi had explained.

He’s a Recorder, and he’s highly intelligent. I want him even more now. I wouldn’t mind having him by my side, Pseraslav thought.

The reason Haema Sanguis is obsessed with the dungeon, huh? I’ve never even thought about approaching it like that. Is this how humans think? Ranko wondered.

The wolf beastfolk of Sol soon caught up to them as the two walked.

“Geheh! It’s not a bad plan.”

“I can’t say it’s perfect, but it’s firing me up!”

Pseraslav and Ranko looked at each other, feeling their Beast Force welling up. They felt the same catharsis that they usually felt just before pouncing on a prey, coursing through their bodies. Saliva welled up in their mouths.

“Tiger,” Pseraslav called.

“Wolf,” Ranko called.

“Let’s run wild, just like the good old days.”

“Sounds good!”

The two beasts laughed simultaneously.

***

Seong-Hwi carefully re-examined the six portraits that Etxeberria had handed him. They were the portraits of Scite Amor, Semita Sigillum, Grawamen Dirae, Erzsebet Melos, Berto Motus, and lastly—

Haema Sanguis, Seong-Hwi thought as his black eyes sank.

After much thought, he remarked, “All members of the intelligence division except Ma Sang-Sik shall return to Lunatic and carry out the mission I have assigned you.”

“Understood,” Etxeberria answered hesitantly.

“Yes, tsar,” Ilia Volok replied.

“Absolutely!” Suleiman said.

Carly and Roger Cross also replied in order. They quelled the excitement from being included in the colossal operation carried out in the shadows, resolving themselves to accomplish their mission no matter what it took. The intelligence division members left the hideout.

You... sure are amazing, pal, thought Sang-Sik, the only intelligence division member remaining in the hideout, as he watched the man before him moving forward with his plans without hesitation.

The murderer whom he had been chasing on Earth had become the captain of a massive ship known as humankind in the Mirror World.

Perhaps my incompetence saved my people, Sang-Sik thought as he smiled.

Just then, Seong-Hwi turned to those remaining in the hideout and said, “Gerard will come with me. Tae-Jin, Tig, Wang Chen, Hector. What will the four of you do?”

“We’re in, obviously! Our goal from the beginning was to rescue the people that Blood Cross kidnapped!” Tae-Jin replied.

“Growl! I will assist,” Tig also replied immediately after Tae-Jin.

Wang Chen’s goal-oriented eyes shone as he said, “It would be cool of me to say that I am doing this to repay the favor, but... I will be honest. I need Karma to restore my stat values that have plummeted with the heightened caliber. I can’t pass on this opportunity.”

Seong-Hwi nodded at their replies and turned to Hector, who was remaining silent.

Hector stared silently at Seong-Hwi for a while and asked, “Let me... ask you something. Did you decide to cooperate with them... because of the ten thousand humans you didn’t rescue?”

Seong-Hwi looked directly at Hector, a slender man with washed-out blond hair but blazing blue eyes. He was the greatest boxer Seong-Hwi knew, a fighter with the mind of a champion.

“Of course not. You overestimate me. Rescuing them is just a means to an end. I need them to testify against Consanguineus’s sins to the Sēmen, after all,” Seong-Hwi replied.

Hector smiled faintly. “I think... I’m starting to understand what kind of man you are.” He nodded and continued, “I’m also in, obviously. You should do what only you can do, and I will do the same.”

Seong-Hwi stared at Hector’s back as he walked toward Tae-Jin and thought, Yeah, you always had that mindset of always doing only what you were capable of... right up until your death.

He recalled Hector’s words to him.

“I’ll buy you some time, so take that and run! The destiny of humankind rests on your shoulders!”

After that, Hector had charged at Regnator without hesitation, using all his might to destroy Regnator’s shield. Of course, he had been split in two moments after.

Hector’s last words echoed inside Seong-Hwi’s head.

“If only I... perfected my D Weapon...”

Seong-Hwi’s mouth opened without him realizing it, mentioning the burden that Hector had been carrying his entire life.

“Hector Jameson,” he called.

“Hm?” Hector expressed.

“It’s not your fault.”

“What?”

“It’s not your fault that you couldn’t remember your daughter. Stop torturing yourself. Your daughter would want the same thing. Also, cherish her gift to you.”

Hector’s eyes widened. “Wha... You—”

“Guide them to the cask storage, Ma Sang-Sik. Carry out the rescue when the time comes,” Seong-Hwi said to Sang-Sik as he walked toward the exit. “Let's go, Gerard. Your wish might be fulfilled earlier than expected.”

“Tsk, you sure know how to put an old man to work,” Gerard remarked as Seong-Hwi opened the door.

“Wait! Stop right there! How do you know about that?!”

Seong-Hwi ignored the voice filled with doubt and shock and entered the cold night street.

***

The voices of two women sounded from Erzsebet Melos’s bedroom on the top floor of the Palace of Tedium.

“Erzsebet! This is treason!” shouted Scite Amor, a woman with disheveled black hair and red eyes.

“Quiet, Scite,” Erzsebet Melos replied calmly, her voice filled with fatigue. She was lying on a pure white bed.

“You have to search the east!”

“Semita Sigillum is doing that, isn’t he?”

“Semita isn’t a Recorder! You have to be the one to go! That human named Cheon Seong-Hwi is a Recorder strong enough to kill Demens!”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Erzsebet said.

“What?” Scite said with a frown.

“Do you seriously think Semita Sigillum, the pureblood of the Sigillum of Betrayal bloodline, would go around bragging about becoming a Recorder like Demens?”

“You mean...”

“Semita is a Recorder, too. His star’s magnitude may only be ten, but he should last long enough against that human named Cheon Seong-Hwi until reinforcements arrive.” Erzsebet’s eyes narrowed as she continued, “The same goes for Grawamen. Haema and Berto seemed to know already, but... I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“Y-you...” Scite trailed off in frustration.

She shouted inwardly, Get off your high horse!

Among the king, two dukedoms, and four marquisdoms, Scite was a marchioness, and Erzsebet was a duchess. Scite always saw Erzsebet as a rival, so she acted the complete opposite of her elegant and graceful sister. She even dyed her snow-white hair, the symbol of the Seven Purebloods, black and kept it disheveled on purpose.

“If you understand, then leave me be. Don’t annoy your older sister when she wants to sleep,” Erzsebet said as she pulled her blanket over her head, having no intention of talking more.

Scite glared at Erzsebet for a while, then turned into bats as she insulted, “Older sister, my ass! Hmph! I hope you choke in your sleep!”

Once the swarm of bats flew out the window, Erzsebet soon lowered the blanket and looked out the window.

“How cute,” she mumbled.

She loved her cute little sister Scite as much as tedium and art, but the other purebloods would never guess as much. Erzsebet smiled faintly and was about to fall asleep under the joyous silence.

Just then, the sound of a lyre entered through the window. Beautiful strums, each filled with deep longing and agonizing loss, created a melody that moved Erzsebet’s heart.

Who is playing? Erzsebet wondered.

She recalled every musician she had invited to her palace, but none of them had played like this. She had thrown aside the blanket and jumped out of bed without realizing it. Her long white hair reached her calves despite her tall stature. She smiled with satisfaction as she walked toward the window, as if in a trance.

“This is... art,” she said.

Art wasn’t about whether it was good or bad—it was about whether it could move those who experienced it. According to her philosophy on art, the one playing the lyre was truly worthy of the title of artist.

I haven’t seen an artist like this since that child, Erzsebet thought as she closed her eyes to appreciate the performance.

Memories of her days in Consanguineus, the vampires’ home dimension, before she was Lost, appeared in her head one after another.

“Ah!” Erzsebet exclaimed, opening her eyes as if waking from a dream once the performance ended, her expression filled with disappointment.

***

[Activating Unique Skill: Borrowing Destiny.]

[Love-Yearning Bard]

[Activating Unique Skill: Symbol Embodiment.]

[Golden Lyre]

[Activating Exclusive Skill: Happy Days.]

The Golden Lyre in Seong-Hwi’s hands stopped playing, refilling the space with even heavier silence than initially.

Seong-Hwi broke the silence to ask Gerard, “I’m performing for literally nobody in the middle of the night. Are you sure about this?”

“I am certain,” confirmed Gerard, standing beside Seong-Hwi. “She holds a genuine love for art. Especially one filled with despair.”

“Art filled with despair, huh?”

One couldn’t better explain the performance of Orpheus, who lost his wife Eurydice for a second time due to his mistake.

“It would’ve been much easier if you had told me about a secret passageway to the Palace of Tedium,” Seong-Hwi remarked.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know anything like that? All I know is that this performance will undoubtedly move Erzsebet Melos,” Gerard replied firmly.

They were hiding in an alley near the Palace of Tedium. Seong-Hwi wished to make contact with one of the Seven Purebloods to commence his next plan, and he chose Gerard to act as the intermediary. It was only possible because he somewhat knew about Gerard’s past, and it was like killing two birds with one stone since he also had a promise to keep.

“Then why didn’t you play? That would’ve been more effective,” Seong-Hwi asked in a meaningful tone.

Gerard glared at Seong-Hwi in silence, then remarked, “You seem to be misunderstanding something. I am a tuner. I can’t play.”

Just then, they heard the clacking of high heels at the end of the alley where they were hiding. A tall woman in a white dress and white heels walked out of the darkness under the red moonlight, her long, white hair fluttering.

“Are you the one who played the lyre just now?” Erzsebet asked Seong-Hwi who was holding the lyre. Her voice carried an elegance that made it difficult for those who heard it. “I invite you to become the court musician in my palace—Hm?”

Her nose twitched as she was talking. She turned her head and saw Gerard with a stiff expression.

She smiled widely and asked, “Have you returned to me, child?”

***

“Hmmm,” expressed a middle-aged man in scholarly attire wearing a silver-rimmed monocle, resting his chin on his hand as he looked down from the top of a vertical tower in Blood Castle. “The flow... has changed. Something... is moving.”

“Kik! What’s moving? Your fucking eyeballs?” vulgarly remarked a tall man in a black robe, standing beside Glasya-Labolas.

“What could it be? What changed? Could it be the star who killed Demens?” Glasya-Labolas continued to wonder, ignoring the man beside him.

He was secretly visiting Blood Castle. Necrophilia was indirectly supporting Consanguineus through Humilitas, the force under Cadaver’s banner.

That goblin Abyete... is not to be trusted, he thought.

Since Necrophilia treated Abyete like a lizard’s tail that could be severed at any time, it was also the case the other way around. Hence, Glasya-Labolas had infiltrated Blood Castle to oversee the situation personally.

Abyete will become a useful pawn if a war breaks out between Barbaria and Consanguineus.

“Goblin. However aspirational you may be, I highly doubt you would be foolish enough to choose the Ninth Fiend over the Sixth Fiend. That aside... A new star, huh?”

“Kikik! Oi, are you ignoring me? Should I just kill you?”

Glasya-Labolas frowned at the annoying voice and sweltering heat coming from beside him. “Just shut your mouth and cooperate. You’re the one who wanted to enter Necrophilia, Hellfire.”

“Kikikik! Necrophilia isn’t the only rooftop that exists to take shelter from the rain. I am a Recorder now. I would be welcomed anywhere,” the man said.

“Sure, you would,” Glasya-Labolas replied as he scoffed and looked back down again. “Hm?”

He sensed pleasant bloodlust—a refreshing sense of genuine anticipation and joy about killing someone.

“Oh?” Glasya-Labolas fixed his silver-rimmed monocle as he looked toward the direction where he sensed the bloodlust. A middle-aged human woman, enveloped in madness, was walking down the street, mumbling ominously.

“How should I kill him? Burn him? Cut him? Stab him? Hit him? Bludgeon him? Melt him? Starve him? Or... maybe I’ll just tear him apart?! Ahaha!”

The woman with black hair and eyes was smiling ecstatically, her hands wriggling as if she couldn’t help herself. Glasya-Labolas, the President of Butchers, smiled in satisfaction and nodded.

“How diligent.”

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