"Any preliminary results? Pretty quick—go ahead, let’s hear it." Behind his desk, James listened to Gregor’s report, nodding as the latter began to speak.
"Yes. At Brandon’s residence, we found a ruined altar symbolizing the Chalice, along with traces of blood and small amounts of human tissue. In the bathroom, we detected remnants of Chalice drug, which, after testing, was identified as Hunger Powder. We also found a few nightclub business cards in the trash. Following those leads, we identified several nightclubs in the Lower City that Brandon frequented. It appears he stopped visiting them about six months ago, reportedly after falling deeply in love with a woman he met."
"A woman?"
"Yes. Upon closer investigation, we discovered the woman was a wild prostitute, known for using a peculiar charm to enthrall men to the point they couldn’t leave her. She disrupted the brothels’ business, and some sought to teach her a lesson. However, it turned out she had powerful backing. Acting on intelligence, we raided her home and found her dead in the bathroom, along with a substantial stash of Chalice drug."
"Based on prior cases, she was likely bait planted by the Crimson Eucharist to lure members. They would seduce targets, then corrupt them with the drug, recruiting them as pawns. From a captured Eucharist member at the docks, we confirmed her identity."
"From our comprehensive investigation, we believe Brandon was drawn to the Lower City’s red-light district due to his own personality traits. The Eucharist’s bait targeted him, and he was subsequently controlled and corrupted by the Chalice drug. During this process, he likely revealed his true identity, which the Eucharist exploited."
Gregor fell silent after his explanation. James sighed softly before responding.
"Sigh... People who cannot control their desires are easily corrupted by the Chalice. We’ll need to pay closer attention to these issues in the future..." After pausing briefly, James’s expression shifted, and he asked another question.
"By the way, what about the organization called the Rose Cross Order?"
"Nothing concrete yet. We questioned the florist, searched the Ironclay Riverbank, but found no leads. The organization remains a complete mystery. Our intelligence is severely lacking."With a serious expression, Gregor answered. James furrowed his brows.
"The Rose Cross Order... In all my years as director, I’ve never heard of this group. What is their purpose? Are they really helping us against the Crimson Eucharist?"
"I don’t know. But the Rose Cross Order member who single-handedly cleared the Eucharist’s stronghold mentioned something before leaving. They said the Crimson Eucharist we see is merely the surface. Beneath that surface lies something more hidden and profound. Their purpose, they claimed, is to deal with those unseen depths."
Recalling the rooftop conversation at the Buck Mansion, Gregor elaborated. James’s frown deepened as he muttered.
"Something more hidden and profound..."
Noticing James’s grave expression, Gregor asked, "Director, have you thought of something?"
"Hmm… no, nothing specific. Good work, Gregor. I’m very pleased with today’s results. I know you have much to attend to, so let’s leave it at this for now."
"Focus primarily on the Crimson Eucharist. They’ve suffered heavy losses today, making this an opportune time to eradicate their remaining forces in the city. Stay vigilant for any counterattacks. As for the Rose Cross Order... While they haven’t shown any hostility so far, their strength cannot be underestimated. Since their intentions remain unclear, we must stay on guard. We can’t let a few helpful gestures lower our defenses."
"Understood, Director James!"
With that, Gregor left the director’s office. James remained seated, his expression one of deep contemplation.
…
In the dark night of Igwynt, a lavishly decorated room, adorned with intricate carpets and lit dimly by a few tall candle stands, exuded an air of mystery.
In the center of the room, between two tall candelabras, stood a chair. Seated upon it was a figure, while behind the chair, a bloodied man knelt on one knee.
"Master... My poor leadership has caused severe losses to the organization. Years of effort have gone up in smoke. I feel ashamed to have failed your teachings."
Kneeling on the carpet, Buck spoke sincerely to the figure before him, who responded in an aged voice after a moment of silence.
"It’s alright. I understand you encountered unexpected difficulties. Even I hadn’t anticipated interference from another faction in Igwynt."
Hearing the leniency in his master’s tone, Buck was momentarily stunned before speaking again.
"Though unforeseen circumstances played a role, the root of the issue lies in my incompetence. Had I been more cautious, today’s losses could have been avoided."
"Heh... There’s no need to place all the blame on yourself. Man proposes, but the gods dispose. I think your plan was quite sound. In your position, I might have acted similarly."
Letting out a soft chuckle, the figure referred to as "Master" spoke. Buck froze at the words.
"Master... are you not going to hold me accountable for today’s catastrophic losses?"
"Accountable? It was I who abruptly left the organization in your hands. If blame is to be assigned, it falls first and foremost on me. How could I shirk my responsibility onto you?"
The figure’s words of magnanimity left Buck momentarily dazed. After a while, he expressed his gratitude.
"Th-thank you, Master, for your understanding. I will strive to rebuild the organization and avenge today’s losses!"
"Heh... Rebuilding won’t be necessary. The history of the Crimson Eucharist ends today..."
Buck, who had just spoken fervently, was stunned by his master’s unexpected words.
"What... Master... What did you say? The Eucharist’s history... ends today?"
Buck’s face was filled with disbelief as he muttered, but the figure continued.
"Yes. Perhaps I never clarified my intentions with you all. I’ll explain now. The Crimson Eucharist was never about savoring supreme indulgences, as I once claimed. Its true purpose was to gather spirituality and materials for my advancement.”
"Previously, I was hunted by troublesome adversaries, making it inconvenient to act directly. So, I founded an organization in an inconspicuous place like Igwnnt to prepare for my advancement..."
The figure spoke unhurriedly. The more Buck listened, the more astonished he became.
"You mean to say... the organization wasn’t created to lead us in experiencing ultimate pleasures, but as a tool for your advancement..."
"Exactly. Thanks to your efforts over the years, I’m now only a tiny step away from completing my advancement. However, the mystical resources I need have surpassed what Igwynt can provide. Therefore, the Eucharist no longer serves a purpose.”
"If the Eucharist collapses now, it would actually be ideal for me."
The figure’s calm voice continued. Buck, after a long moment of stunned silence, slowly asked, "You’re leaving Igwynt... then... did you bring me back to leave with you?"
"Heh, no, no... You misunderstand, Buck. I mentioned earlier that I still lack a small portion for my advancement. That missing portion includes..."
The figure paused briefly, then concluded, "... roughly the equivalent of two Chalice-Thirsters."
Before Buck could respond, a cold sensation pierced his chest. His eyes widened as he looked down, seeing a sharp blade protruding from where his heart was.
"Mas...ter..."
Blood gushing from his mouth, Buck collapsed forward. Standing behind him, Bill pulled out the blood-stained cane sword and stepped forward, respectfully handing it to the figure.
Taking the cane sword, the figure gently caressed the glowing red gem embedded within its hilt.