In the end, Derek had been able to determine nothing new about the glitchy window. He had, however, been able to confirm that the glitchy window's appearance did appear to coincide exactly with whenever the soul harvest count on Deer Doctor Hyde's Apostle screen went up. This only left him with more questions. The Log answered no questions at all about the glitchy window, yet the window appeared whenever the soul harvest count increased? How were the two related, and what could it mean?
Frustrated, Derek gave up and returned to contemplating how to rid himself of his brother. The conditions of the Event he'd designed made it so that if his brother ever encountered the Wendigo, he would die. It was a happy coincidence. Actually, it was more likely a subconscious influence, he thought. My own subconscious desire for revenge probably drove me to design an Event like this.
He was wary of the authorities connecting him to the Event, but the temptation was strong. Wouldn't it be easiest now, before they start figuring out the Wendigo's kill pattern, to secretly trick my brother into its vicinity?
Leaving thoughts of public servants aside, he would need to make certain none of his family had any reason to suspect him. If he could come up with a good plan…
He made his decision. Assuming he could come up with a satisfactory plan to lure his brother into the kill zone of the Wendigo, without giving his family or the authorities reason to suspect anything, he would do so -- thus eliminating him and the potential risk he posed.
Barely an hour and a half later, Derek sat in the back room of a bar in Northeast Relremark, waiting for his brother to arrive. He wore nondescript clothes and his face was covered with a black cloth. To lure him out, he had left a simple note on his brother's desk with a typewritten message containing allusions to his death: "Two moons behind a cool-toned painting of twenty strokes. Meet me at Jorgun's Bar on 10th St. in 100 minutes."
To anyone not involved in Derek's previous death, the message would seem peculiar but not like it contained anything important. But to his brother, who had killed him with twenty slashes two nights ago after beating him black-and-blue, it would be an obvious statement that whoever wrote it knew what he had done. His brother would likely interpret it as the prelude to either a blackmail attempt or a confrontation. Whatever the case, so long as Peter wasn't stupid enough to miss the subtle hints, he wouldn't be able to ignore the note.
As for himself, Derek was "attending a small party with a few nobles." There was indeed such a party going on in Felrook Manor a couple streets away, and as he sometimes did, he was paying the attendees to pretend he was there as an alibi. He hadn't been planning to attend the party this evening, but the opportunity to lure his brother to this side of the city had been irresistible. He would attend the rest of the party as soon as his business here was taken care of.
It wasn't much longer before his brother arrived, shown to the back room by a specific waiter.
"Peter," Derek greeted calmly.
The waiter closed the door behind him, leaving without a word.
"Derek," Peter replied.
"Sit," Derek said, gesturing to the seat across from him. "Let's talk."
Peter balled his hands into fists, clenching and relaxing them a couple of times before pounding them on the table and yelling, "How the hell are you alive?! I know for a fact I killed you! What are you, a zombie? A revenant? A ghost?"
Taking pleasure in his younger brother's confusion, Derek smiled beneath the cloth covering and put a finger to his lips. "Shh, yell too loudly and someone else will hear. Sit, we have plenty of time to talk."
Peter plopped down on the seat, folding his arms. "Fine. I'm sitting. Now tell me what the hell you are!"
Derek was enjoying this. He'd always loved the feeling of superiority that came from being in a position of power; now, with his brother in the dark and all answers solely in his hands, Derek felt immensely satisfied. "Hmm, wouldn't you like to know? How about I tell you -- after you tell me why you killed me. Wouldn't that be fair?"
Peter snarled. Powerless, he relented. "Fine. I couldn't stand looking at your smug face all the time, and some others couldn't either. So we worked together to be rid of you. Happy now?"
"Not quite," Derek replied. "Tell me who else was involved. Give me all of their names and I might just let you off easy."
"Salazar Jefferson, Gregory Valfield, Matthew Wintergreen, Dean Shelrook, Ollie Redwood, and Ivy Lynt."
Derek tapped his knee thoughtfully. That was disappointing. Dean had been one of the men in the Coalition he'd liked the most, a good drinking buddy. Apparently the feeling had been one-sided. "Anyone else?"
Peter hesitated. "No."
Derek raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
As the silence began to stretch, Peter got fidgety, then caved. "Alright, fine! Diana was in on it as well."
Derek froze, then shouted, "What?! Explain yourself! You'd better not be lying!"
"I'm not lying! Despite all her care, you never listened to her, even though she was only telling you to do what's best for our family! I swear I'm telling the truth, it was her idea to begin with!"
Astonished, Derek's mind stopped working. Diana? It couldn't be. She wouldn't!
Peter was too afraid to interrupt his brother's thinking, so he remained quiet as his brother sat in front of him, miraculously returned from the dead. How in the world was he unharmed? Once Diana's betrayal sunk in, would he keep his word and explain? Peter knew it would be a shock, but he hadn't expected Derek to be this upset about it. Was his older brother truly that sentimental about her? Perhaps he should have kept quiet about it after all. No, it was better that he came clean. This way, Derek would have someone else to be angry with besides him. As the Remington family's head maid and the woman that had served as their nanny, Diana was the only other one whose betrayal would hurt Derek nearly as much as his own did.
A minute or so later, Derek regained his composure. "Alright, I'll believe you for now. I'll need to confirm it for myself, though."
Peter nodded.
Derek was curious what would happen if he told anyone about his resurrection and the contract with Deer Doctor Hyde. Since he was planning on sacrificing him to the Wendigo anyways, Peter was the perfect guinea pig. "Alright, brother, you wanted to know how I'm alive even though you killed me?"
Peter nodded again, leaning forward.
Derek leaned back with a cocky grin, putting on a performance just for his younger brother. "Well, you see, I made a contract with God."