Gun of Ashes

”Come in.”

The door was pushed open, and a familiar man stood by the door holding a suitcase.

It was Ende, responsible for smuggling the inferior Secret Blood, who, in Lorenzo’s pursuit, had transported the inferior Secret Blood back to this place.

”Is everything ready?” the Plague Doctor asked, knowing that such a large batch of inferior Secret Blood could spark another disaster.

”Yes.” Ende nodded, lifting the suitcase in his hand, ”It’s ready to be deployed.”

”Should we start now?” the Plague Doctor turned to Lawrence for confirmation.

”No... we don’t need to act personally. Just align with the situation and let the new Order and Lorenzo fight it out,” Lawrence said.

”Can you be sure of this?”

”Of course, I’m an excellent observer, and their every move is within my eye.” Lawrence was extremely confident, having become more adept with his abilities through these recent [Gaps] in movement.

”It’s time to make use of those pawns I’ve placed.”

Lawrence gestured for Ende to leave, glanced at the Plague Doctor, and then closed his eyes, the candlelight flickering.

When he opened his eyes again, he was at a ball with rising music, wearing splendid attire and dancing with a graceful lady.

”Your dance steps are getting better,” the lady complimented.

”You’re good too.”

Duke Salicardo gently kissed the back of her hand and then left the dance floor, his gaze becoming sharp, as if he were a different person.

Lawrence’s initial attack on Salicado Manor had some success; he successfully infiltrated Duke Salicardo and later operated under his identity.

This was also why Shermans encountered Salicardo; he thought he had reached out to Salicardo, but in fact, it was Lawrence who reached out to him.

Through these means, Lawrence established contact with the Purification Mechanism in this extremely bizarre way, and this infiltration continued to expand.

Sometimes he felt fortunate that the Beacons he had casually placed before had now become his channels for surveillance, manipulating the entire situation this way.

Like an invisible poison spider, with invisible threads forming an invisible web, this web had already enveloped everyone.

Lorenzo could never imagine that the letter was from Lawrence, and such letters continued to spread throughout Old Dunling, leading various forces in the direction he desired.

Lawrence, like a ghost, stood behind the scenes in the dark, pushing this restless city into the Abyss.

...

Something seemed to be there, right beside him, it was using his body to peer into this world.

Hig also found it hard to explain this feeling. He initially didn’t mind, but over time, this feeling became more frequent, sometimes even feeling like there was another self deep in his consciousness.

He shook his head vigorously, trying to shake off these strange thoughts.

Dim light shone down, through the stained glass and on him, the light dim and seemingly devoid of color.

Hig looked at the familiar White Church; he first came here by mistake when it wasn’t a place for Mutual Aid Association gatherings, but just an abandoned church inhabited by a simple Priest.

That Priest was very old, and when Hig came, he couldn’t believe he lived there alone. Ever since that encounter, Hig would occasionally feel that strange sensation, like a ghost was dwelling in him, seeing what he saw.

Hig still remembered that night when he had just been fired from the factory for using a hallucinogen, feeling down and talking a lot with that Priest. He later returned, but the Priest was gone, seemed to have left without a trace, and when Hig asked around, no one knew.

Raindrops pounded on the glass, damp rain seeped in through the door cracks, and the sudden cold made Hig shiver, but then the loud cheer shattered it all.

Everyone sat together, sharing recent experiences, joys, and sorrows, concluding today’s Mutual Aid Association with cheers.

Hig seemed somewhat detached; he thought Joey would come, but Joey didn’t show up today, which made him a bit disappointed, though he understood that Joey had his own work, unlike himself.

People bade farewell, opened umbrellas, and left one by one. The happiness came so suddenly, and the end was just as swift. When Hig snapped back to reality, he was alone in the church.

Everything was a mess, and since Hig wasn’t in a hurry, he straightened the chairs that had been knocked over.

”Aren’t you in a hurry to leave?” someone asked.

”Not in a hurry, I have nothing pressing anyway,” Hig replied with a smile.

Then a voice came from the other end, and a doctor approached.

”Hmm, you seem to be doing better lately. Do you feel like you have integrated into life?” the doctor asked.

Hig hesitated a bit, but recalling his recent life, he nodded vigorously and replied happily.

”Yes, it feels quite good.”

”Really? Hig, do you think there’s something wrong with you?” the doctor asked again.

”What do you mean?”

”I’m a doctor, ordinary people don’t come to doctors, only patients do. Do you consider yourself a patient?” the doctor explained in terms that Hig found hard to understand.

”I...”

Hig thought back, knowing very well that even before using the hallucinogen, he felt different. He wasn’t sure if it was introversion or something else, but certainly different from ordinary people.

”Humans are social creatures, individuals who are different are just anomalies, and anomalies are diseases that need to be cured... that’s how I see it. Everyone at the Mutual Aid Association is brought together by hallucinogens, but without them, we are all anomalies in the crowd.”

The doctor spoke from the stairs.

”This is the world; it strips us of our traits, makes us mediocre until we’re like everyone else.”

”You think it’s a trait?”

Hig couldn’t understand how his flawed personality, which caused him so much distress, could be seen as a trait by the doctor.

”Isn’t it? We’re born this way, like having different eye colors. Should we change this natural trait just because it’s different from others?”

The doctor smiled, looking at Hig’s puzzled eyes, and continued.

”You’re very special.”

”Me?”

Hig pointed to himself, a little confused.

”Yes, Hig, I’d like to have a good chat about you.”

James Moriarty brought a chair and sat opposite Hig. He maintained his calm demeanor, like the morning sun, difficult to regard with suspicion.

”About myself?”

”Everyone lives an ordinary life, but few truly understand themselves, right?”

Moriarty said, extending his hand, his fingers lightly tapping Hig’s heart. Though the action was not forceful, Hig felt a heavy blow to his heart.

He stared dully into Moriarty’s eyes, his own dazed face reflected in his glasses, then a white blaze consumed everything.

Suddenly, all sounds roared to life, singing in frequency until merging into a tide of rain.

An invisible storm enveloped Hig, existing everywhere, coldly falling. In the surge, the White Church vanished, and when he came to, Hig found himself standing in a vast field, drenched by icy rain. His gaze moved slowly, and in a blur, he saw at the end of the rain curtain...

The seaside town he would never be able to return to.