10. Stranger from the Nightwatchers

In one breath, Angel created 20 "Storm Convergence" bullets and only stopped when she felt her spirituality somewhat depleted.

The neatly arranged bullets, faintly glowing with a crimson light, gradually faded as time passed. Next to them lay several failed attempts, most of which were scrapped due to mishandling during the engraving process.

"Storm Convergence" bullets, enhanced through engraving, possess immense power and also a much larger recoil than ordinary bullets. The standard launchers of the Templar Knights are designed with hydraulic buffers to fire special bullets without damage. This average-quality, poorly maintained revolver might not last through 20 shots before being scrapped.

Even if the gun could withstand it, the person firing it probably could not.

Twenty bullets should be enough for one battle. If that doesn't resolve the enemy, another 20 would be futile.

With her remaining spirituality, she then made 3 "Phosphor Spray" bullets, a type of auxiliary ammunition with very low direct lethality. Their flight path and the location of their final explosion scatter phosphorescent powder, which adheres to living beings, allowing the user to spot targets in poor visibility or track fast-moving enemies by following the trails formed through the phosphorescent powder areas.

The manufacturing process is similar to "Storm Convergence", involving the addition of nitric acid-soaked luminous lizard scale powder to the bullet head and propellant, mixed with calcium carbide, and then transformed through engraving into intangible phosphorescent powder unaffected by wind direction.

Likewise, by praying to the goddess of the night to imbue power into the engravings, she created 0.22-inch bullets suitable for a lady's pistol. Angel placed these 3 "Phosphor Spray" bullets in a box with the earlier "Storm Convergence" bullets and covered it with oil paper.

Looking at the box of bullets worth 50 pounds in raw materials, she felt her whole body aching. This was the first time her body had exhausted its spirituality, with throbbing temples and the candlelight before her doubling, feeling almost as bad as when she first arrived in this body, if not worse.

Apart from the slow recovery of spirituality over time, the most effective method is through meditation. Cole's memories included this method, but unfortunately, Angel had no time for it now.

Pushing open the sliding door of the basement, she returned to the study. The dawn light was faint outside, the crimson moonlight replaced by golden sunlight, another sleepless night passed.

Since arriving in this world, Angel had not had a full night's sleep; she was always busy until dawn of the next day.

After placing the bullet box in the desk drawer, she stretched, planning to wash her face to freshen up, and then visit Saint Selena Church to ask yesterday's bishop if the intelligence had been relayed to the Beyonder organization.

If the Church of the Evernight Goddess was slow to respond, she was prepared to try reporting to the "River and Sea Church" of the Lord of Storms.

Opening the door to the living room, Angel was stunned.

Sitting on her favorite sofa, positioned against a bay window to fully enjoy the sunlight, was a stranger.

The visitor, approximately forty years old, was dressed in a long black police uniform, wearing a soft police cap, and had his legs crossed as if taking a small rest at home, flipping through a notebook. Angel noticed that it was one of the complaint letters she had put into the police station's mailbox. Hearing Angel coming out of the study, the stranger lifted his police cap slightly, revealing light brown short hair, and his grey eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, looked at her, giving her a somewhat familiar feeling.

"Hello, Madam," he greeted politely. "Please, have a seat. I have something to discuss with you."

He gestured towards an empty sofa nearby, as if he were the owner of the house and she was a newly arrived guest.

Angel had already guessed his identity from his attire and obediently walked over to sit down on the sofa.

"The Tingen City Police handed over a case to us last night, saying it might involve a Beyonder criminal," the unfamiliar police officer said, placing his notebook on the square table, which was already covered with many documents and papers from the complaint letter. "Earlier, Bishop Romulan of the Saint Selena Church reported to us that a follower of the Goddess had been threatened by a Beyonder person. She dared not confront it directly but still bravely reported the incident to the church."

The middle-aged officer said with a serious expression, "Both incidents point to an assistant professor at Tingen University named 'Cole Granger,' whose address we have found to be here, at 6th Daffodil Street."

He did not continue, seemingly waiting for Angel to speak.

"Yes, the complaint letter was the one I dropped into the mailbox at the police station entrance last night. Then I went to the Saint Selena Church, seeking help from the bishop in the confessional, hoping he could inform the church's Beyonder armed forces about this matter," Angel said.

The officer nodded, "So, I came here. I am Dunn Smith, a Nightwatcher." He removed his police cap and bowed slightly, with a minimal bend.

Nightwatcher, that must be the extraordinary armed force of the Church of the Evernight Goddess. Angel remembered an organization mentioned during the exchange between "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" in the Tarot Club.

"Mr. Smith, hello," Angel also returned the gesture and continued to introduce herself: "I am Angel Granger, a relative of Cole's, currently staying at his place temporarily."

Dunn Smith raised his eyebrows slightly upon hearing Angel's name, appearing somewhat surprised.

"You're not mentioned in the Granger family's files. When did you arrive in Tingen?"

When he posed the question, his gaze was intently fixed on Angel.

"I've only arrived in Tingen this week, my records probably haven't been updated yet," Angel replied. It was a crucial moment to gain the trust of the one on the night watch, and she was well-prepared.

"We will investigate," Dunn Smith nodded, signaling his acceptance of Angel's explanation. Resting his right hand on the arm of the sofa and leaning his head sideways, he supported his cheek with his palm in a somewhat indolent manner, and continued to inquire, his voice more muffled and deep through the hand, "Do you know the whereabouts of Cole Granger?"

"He should be dead by now."

"…Continue," Dunn Smith motioned for Angel to go on after a short flash of astonishment.

"You've seen the letters, maintaining contact with Cole, the one providing him the Witch's Formula, she's called Sharon Khoy, Mrs. Sharon, as Cole called her. She visited Cole on Thursday night, the same night he disappeared, never to be seen again. And yes, my 'assassin' brew also came from her."

"She sent another letter last night, asking me to come to her place, this very Sunday evening. I knew, it couldn't bode well."

Though her expression came out a bit jumbled, it was the very effect Angel was aiming for. The sea of new information quite swayed Dunn Smith, who sat before her. He slightly sat up straighter, his hand that was supporting his face now lowered, and he looked past Angel for a moment, his eyes unfocused. He thought for a while, regaining his previous posture, and asked:

"You seem to be quite afraid of Mrs. Sharon, did she do something to you?"

"Afraid? No, I would say it's more of hatred. She provided Cole with the narcotics, exploited charisma to control him, and made him murder the innocent. Cole might have got what he deserved, but the real architect of the menace was Mrs. Sharon. And to have me turned into an 'assassin' as well, what is it, if not to have me follow in Cole's routes, to vie for a way to up the worth by killing, in pursuit of favor from her?"

Despite the content being a ready-meditated talk to defame Mrs. Sharon, when it got to the end, Angel did express a piece of certain personal fervor.

"Sorry, I was a bit overwrought."

This is Angel's candid confession: she found herself unable to control her emotions whenever she faced Officer Dunn Smith. Her answers to his questions were too crisp and direct, even though they were premeditated. Continuing this way, she might slip up.

"It's okay, I understand," Dunn Smith's mouth twitched, attempting to form a smile, but only making the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes more pronounced. Then, he adjusted his posture, quickly returning to a stern expression, clasped his hands together, fingers intertwined, and changed the subject to something lighter: "You seem to have quite an understanding of magic potions and Beyonders. Did you learn this from Cole Granger?"

"Yes, Mrs. Sharon thought highly of Cole's progress and taught him a lot about the Beyonder world, such as the various methods and sequences of magic potions, and the ways to advance. I learned it from him."

"That makes our conversation much easier. Do you know the name and sequence level of Mrs. Sharon's potion?"

"At least Sequence 7 'Witch', and I think it's very likely she has reached Sequence 6, but I'm not sure about the names of the subsequent sequences."

Dunn Smith nodded: "Sequence 7 is already mid-sequence, we need to plan carefully for her actions. I will report to my superiors, and after thorough preparation and investigation, we will take action.

"As for you, Mrs. Granger, during the investigation and action, we will protect you. You can choose to stay at the Nightwatchers' headquarters in Tingen or temporarily leave Tingen to seek refuge in Backlund, where my colleague will meet you. After the case is resolved, you can return to Tingen."

"What about tonight? Mrs. Sharon invited me over," Angel asked with a frown.

Smith shrugged, clearly implying: You're not seriously considering going, are you?

"If I don't go, it might startle Mrs. Sharon, making her cautious. If she prepares, destroys evidence, or even flees directly, what are you prepared to do?" Seeing Dunn Smith still not realizing the seriousness of the situation, Angel became somewhat anxious.

"Once she flees, she'll be a fugitive. Not just the Church of the Evernight Goddess, but the Church of the Lord of Storms, the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery will also issue a warrant for her within their jurisdictions," Dunn Smith spoke calmly, as if not noticing Angel's urgency: "But without evidence, we can't just arrest anyone. After all, Mrs. Sharon is a well-known figure in Tingen, involving too wide a range."

"Even if she is part of the Demoness Sect?"

Dunn Smith's expression became serious as he resumed the posture of supporting his right face with his right hand on the chair, like a habitual gesture of contemplation.

"Do you mean the Demoness Sect that worships the original Witch and has the mission of spreading disasters? Are you sure?"

"Not sure, but it's highly likely. Mrs. Sharen once mentioned to Cole that she could introduce him to join the Demoness Sect, but he needed to advance to Sequence 7 first."

The officer's grey eyes stared at Angel — more precisely, at a spot behind her, pondered for a moment, and then nodded as if confirming: "If she really is from the Demoness Sect, then this matter might not be as simple as it seems on the surface. She has been hiding in Tingen City for many years, and has recently begun to recruit followers, surely preparing for some action. For the Demoness Sect, to take action often means a large number of civilians will be harmed."

As if he had made up his mind, he straightened his police cap and said, "I will apply to take action against Mrs. Sharen tonight, but," Dunn pointed at Angel, "you still need to accept the protection of the Nightwatchers."

"No, I will also join the fight." Angel refused Dunn Smith's proposal.

"I was planning to confront her alone tonight, with or without the Nightwatchers."

Dunn Smith, pressing down on his police cap with one hand and smoothing the hem of his police uniform with the other, stood up from the sofa. He smiled and shook his head — it was the first time Angel had seen him smile.

"As a Sequence 9, wanting to fight alone against a Sequence 7 or even Sequence 6 Beyonder person, even in dreams, is too bold."

"What?"

Is this mocking me for daydreaming? Or saying...

Angel felt a chill down her spine. She instinctively reached for her gun, only to remember that it was in the drawer of the study, and hurriedly stood up from the sofa.

The world spun around her, the scene in front of her eyes shattered, and she found her cheeks buried in her arms, lying on a stone table, surrounded by darkness.