C182: Friendly encounter at midnight
"Florence, you have finally arrived."
The man walked toward them with languid, casual confidence, his hands clasped behind his back as though he were merely taking an evening stroll. Around him, the gathered bats with burning violet eyes gazed down at Florence like a congregation of watchers.
In simultaneous motion, Florence bowed gracefully before stepping forward to meet him. Her eyes remained fixed unwaveringly upon the pale man.
"My humble apologies..., Father."
Florence kept her head submissively low as she approached.
"You have stirred up quite a bit of trouble on my behalf, lady Florence Night." The man stood directly before the maid. He raised one pale hand and gently touched her cold cheek. "This time, your antics have even cost me a precious life."
"But it ultimately could not kill you. I believed those fools would never defeat you. That is why I did not overly worry when I exposed you, Father.” Florence lowered her head further, her sweet, melodious voice ringing sincerely. "I deeply apologize for that lapse."
"Haha, what a silver tongue you possess." He stroked her face with lingering familiarity. "You are indeed correct in your assessment. They can never truly kill me."
However, without warning, his grip tightened upon her face. It was not strong, but it carried sufficient strength to generate a palpable wave of oppressive pressure.
"But, do not think you can use sweet words to escape responsibility for your failures."
The man's eyes flickered burning violet, regarding the maid in prolonged silence.
Everyone present held their breath, not daring to utter a single word or make the smallest movement.
"What a wicked lady you have proven to be, always managing to create such troublesome complications." His pale finger traced across her lips. "You require some manner of punishment."
His arm wrapped around her slender waist, as he leaned his head toward Florence.
Florence's pupils dilated in alarm. She stood perfectly still, not daring to offer the slightest resistance, yet her entire body trembled violently at his touch. Even from his nearby position, Arnold gritted his teeth against an involuntary tremor of his own, his eyes filling with barely contained killing intent.
The moment Victor’s face drew close to Florence, however, his nose twitched.
"..."
"..."
The man drew his head back abruptly. He straightened his posture and released her, his expression changing strangely.
“How many days has it been since you last took a proper bath?”
"Pardon?"
“You smell…like rotten meat.” Victor paused, then suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Wait, is this another form of torture those Inspectors devised?"
He pinched his nose and took one step backward.
"What did they do to you?"
“...” Florence’s expression remained unchanged, but if one observed with enough attention, one could discern the faint trembling at the corners of her lips.
"That... I cannot bring myself to say, Father. I would rather die than remember that indignity!" Florence suddenly burst out in anguish, gritting her teeth and gripping her hand so tightly that blood dripped from her palm.
"They were so cruel! How could they use such atrocities on a lady such as myself? How can I possibly continue living with this disgrace! I shall carry this shame for the remainder of my life!” Her eyes watering dramatically, she squeezed them shut and turned her face away, one hand concealing her mouth in mourning posture.
“...Ah. Um. Hmm”
Victor found himself speechless. For once, the arrogant vampire seemed genuinely unsure what to say, wholly uncertain how to respond to this unexpected outburst.
He hesitated, his violet eyes wandered awkwardly around the street for several seconds before finally clearing his throat with forced composure.
"That hardly matters now."
"Pray, Father, I beg you to grant me justice!" The maid cried out, pressing her hand against her chest. Her eyes burned with anger. "Pray, Father, punish those insignificant fools for their transgressions!"
"..."
Victor stared at the maid for a long moment before clasping his hands behind his back once more.
"That goes without saying. Let us return now." He declared, turning his heel.
Florence glanced back briefly at the invisible assembled group, before she turned away and followed obediently after Victor.
The two figures walked together into the deepening night, their silhouettes gradually diminishing, until darkness swallowed them both from view.
—
The moment the two completely disappeared from view, and those hundreds of violet eyes vanished along with them into the darkness, Davis collapsed onto his backside, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"Hah! That was... nerve-wracking!"
Beside him, Arnold nodded in agreement.
At some point, sweat had thoroughly dampened his shirt that he had not even consciously registered, the fabric now clinging against his skin.
Behind them, even the gathered thugs group likewise sighed in relief, several sinking against the cart's wooden frame.
None of them had expected to be suddenly ambushed in the middle of the night by countless violet gazes shining from every direction.
Gradually, the silent street filled once more with quiet chatter and murmured conversation. Their noise slowly dispelled the oppressive residue of dread.
“Junior, who is he?” Davis glanced at the boy, who was now fanning his shirt for cooling air, his eyes filled with concern. "I have never before seen him anywhere in this village. But ya seem to know that man."
Arnold considered his response for a moment.
Earlier, Victor had appeared using his true face instead of the respected mask of the village's church father. So it was understandable that nobody recognized him.
The man was undeniably arrogant, but he had the ability to back it up. His carefully crafted facade over a decade truly displayed masterful patience. It was honestly a miracle that Davis and Arnold had managed to conceal themselves right under his nose.
Inside the mindscape, Izzy tapped one finger against the armrest.
His sudden appearance had genuinely scared the shit out of her. If not for Arnold’s Field Vision and her own intuition, she was not sure what would have been left of their vessels—or the rest of the group.
‘Wait a moment.’
Looking back at how terrifying that man had appeared up close, the man with violet eyes appeared silently in the night, so overwhelming that even the thugs had not dared utter a single word, a thought suddenly flashed through Izzy’s mind.
She immediately flew toward the black monument in the amusement park, scanning urgently through the accumulated text of their previous iterations.
‘Don’t tell me…’
For the past decade, ever since he appeared here, he had assumed the identity of Father Victor without ever revealing his true appearance.
The rumor of the violet-eyed monster that kidnapped children at night and had once terrorized the villagers. In the previous iteration, Mrs. Opal had revealed this fact to Arnold in the hope that they could find Mary and her son, Otis.
The advancement ritual to the Silver Sky Stage of the Vampire Path: the Vampire.
[“To advance to the Silver Sky Stage of the Vampire Path, ‘The Vampire,’ the Farer must collect 100ml of blood from 100 different individuals of all genders, distributed across each stage of age: infant, child, juvenile, midlife, senility, deathbed.]
A wild thought suddenly flashed through Izzy’s mind.
‘The violet-eyed monster that once terrorized this village… Could it be this guy?’
Gradually, the true scene that had transpired in the distant past assembled itself before the theatre.
The man, Victor, had used his real identity as the violet-eyed monster, deliberately terrorizing the villagers.
At one critical point, when all hope had been lost and the village stood at the brink of despair, he fabricated the identity of Father Victor, and the violet-eyed monster's appearances abruptly ceased.
According to the rumor, when Father Victor arrived, the monster conveniently vanished. He claimed to have heroically slain the monster, putting the entire affair to rest.
From that moment forward, he gained the trust of the villagers, and even the Baroness herself.
However, in the actual truth of the matter, the real monster had seized the opportunity to murder the real Father Victor, and assumed the dead priest's identity as his perfect camouflage!
The real monster had never actually left this village at all!
'Wait.'
Victor might indeed be the real violet-eyed monster, but there still remained one specific point that confused her.
Victor might indeed be the real violet-eyed monster, but there was still one specific point that confused her.
Eight years ago, he had planned to use Lumber’s wife, a Moon Elf, to conduct the ritual needed to weaken the Moon Maiden.
However, the woman had refused.
And then, shortly thereafter, she had died in a devastating house fire, leaving the young Mary alone in the world with her grieving father.
Based on Mr. Kind Neighbor’s testimony, he had witnessed a figure with burning violet gaze standing within the burning house alongside Lumber's wife at the moment the fire erupted.
It did not make sense for Victor to simply kill her after she refused.
If it were Izzy instead, she would have used some sort of hypnosis ability to force the woman to obey, or threatened her with the safety of her precious daughter, Mary, or her devoted father, Lumber.
Judging from Victor’s abilities, Izzy was certain that man would have done exactly that.
'Unless... there are two separate violet-eyed monsters.'
Or at least, one was real and one was fake.
Then again, perhaps Mr. K had lied to Jack during their encounter. But Izzy saw no reason why he would go to the trouble of concocting such an elaborate lie about the matter.
‘Then who is the other one?’
The one who had murdered Mary’s mother. It should not be Florence, nor any of Victor's other unknown accomplices.
‘A separate entity?’
“Junior? Ya alright?”
Suddenly, Davis's voice rang out beside him, jolting Izzy back from her contemplation.
She returned to Arnold’s perspective, directed Arnold to adjust his sweat-dampened shirt and refasten his coat.
“I’m alright.”
Recalling Davis’s earlier question, she gave her reply.
“That man…” Izzy made Arnold look Davis straight in the eye, unwavering. "He is the one behind all the tragedies that have befallen this village. In fact, he is the true mastermind responsible for killing Danz!"
Well, for now, might as well pin all the blame on him.
—
Meanwhile, within the Baroness's estate, in a quiet upstairs bedchamber—
“Achoo!”
"Captain!" Naomi immediately sprang from her chair to Gregory's bedside, her hands fluttering anxiously as she checked upon his injury.
Gregory withdrew a clean handkerchief and wiped his nose, while simultaneously tilting his head in confusion.
“Weird. Why do I feel like somebody has been speaking ill of us?"