Strongest Incubus System

Cherry burst into the room like a satisfied whirlwind, Elizabeth close behind, carrying a notebook, two loose sheets of paper, and the dangerously animated expression of someone who had just heard the words ”corrupt intermediaries.” Damon stepped away from the door and indicated the chair opposite Seraphine’s with a simple gesture. Elizabeth sat down immediately, crossing her legs and resting the notepad on her lap, as if this makeshift room were a perfectly acceptable office.

”Excellent,” she said, adjusting the pen between her fingers. ”Let’s begin before I lose my enthusiasm or Cherry resorts to recreational violence.”

”Recreational violence is a respectable tradition,” replied Cherry, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Seraphine looked from one to the other with weary disdain.

”You are deeply irritating.”

”Great sign,” said Damon. ”It means we’re making progress.”

Elizabeth opened her notebook and looked up at the prisoner.

”You mentioned representatives connected to the city council. I want names, offices, habits, schedules, and any detail that helps make their lives miserable.”

Seraphine tilted her head with renewed irony.

”You ask a lot of someone in handcuffs.”

”Ropes,” Cherry corrected. ”And I can tighten them.”

”Cherry,” Damon said without even looking at her.

”I was only offering hospitality.”

Elizabeth tapped her pen on the page twice impatiently.

”First name.”

Seraphine held her gaze for a few seconds and then yielded, perhaps realizing that Elizabeth would be more persistent than usual brutality.

”Marcel Duret. Officially, a fabric merchant. In practice, he handles payments between warehouses and public departments.”

The pen ran immediately across the paper.

”Address.”

”Bellmare Street, corner of the old square. Dark green house with overly gilded railings.”

Cherry smiled.

”I already hate him.”

”The second one,” Elizabeth demanded.

”Jonas Pell. Urban licensing office. Takes fees for delaying inspections, making complaints disappear, and authorizing shipments without inspection.”

Ester appeared in the doorway at that moment, drawn by the possibility of useful information. She carried a stack of maps under her arm and immediately began speaking.

”Pell appears on two port traffic lists.”

Elizabeth didn’t even turn around.

”Of course he does.”

Seraphine raised an eyebrow.

”Do you always work over each other like this?”

”Yes,” Damon replied. ”It’s exhausting.”

”It’s efficient,” Ester corrected, approaching.

Morgana appeared soon after, silent as an elegant shadow. She said nothing immediately, only observed Seraphine with a calmness almost worse than open hostility. Aria also appeared in the hallway, holding a tray with tea and something baked, looked at the number of people crammed into the room and sighed deeply.

”Naturally. Everyone decided to interrogate someone at lunchtime.”

Cherry raised her hand.

”I’ll have two servings.”

”You’ll have everything,” Aria replied.

Within a few minutes, the small room had transformed into another extension of the main hall. Damon stood behind Elizabeth. Morgana leaned against the narrow window. Esther spread maps on a side table. Cherry took one of the cakes from the tray without permission. Aria pretended not to see.

Seraphine looked around, incredulous.

”You’ve turned my interrogation into a social gathering.”

”Yes,” Morgana said for the first time. ”And yet it’s still about you.”

The sentence landed more than a slap. Seraphine straightened slightly.

Elizabeth returned to the subject.

”Who receives above these men?”

”Not direct names,” Seraphine replied. ”Orders pass through scribes, procurators, former servants. Always in layers.”

”Which noble houses?”

”I suspect two.”

”Suspicion doesn’t help,” Damon said.

”It serves as a direction,” she retorted.

Elizabeth pointed the quill at the prisoner.

”Speak.”

Seraphine took a deep breath.

”Halbrecht has maintained an interest in trade routes for decades. They lost fortune, not ambition. Valcor... some smaller branches survived in the shadows. And there are new patrons buying old influence.”

Morgana slowly uncrossed her arms.

”New patrons?”

”Enriched merchants. Bankers. People without coats of arms buying bankrupt surnames.”

The room fell silent for a moment. That explained a lot. Old families ruined, newly rich hungry for legitimacy, corrupt politicians in the middle, and drugs financing it all.

Ester marked three points on the map.

”If Duret moves payments and Pell cleans up tax collection, we need to know where the money rests before it’s distributed.”

Seraphine looked at her.

”You think fast.”

”You talk slowly.”

Cherry laughed loudly.

”Get married.”

”Never say that again,” Ester replied immediately.

Elizabeth turned another page.

”Safes. Accounts. Money exchanges.”

”There was a pawn shop used as a cover,” said Seraphine. ”South District. Fake name: Rising Sun.”

Cherry chewed while frowning.

”Terrible name for a criminal business.”

”Criminals rarely have a talent for marketing,” commented Aria.

Damon finally moved, approaching Seraphine until she had to lift her face to look at him.

”Are you cooperating out of fear of Cherry or out of survival instinct?”

”Both can coexist.”

Cherry seemed genuinely proud.

”I inspire personal growth.”

Morgana let out a brief nasal laugh. Damon ignored everyone.

”If you’re leading us into traps, I’ll find out quickly.”

Seraphine held his gaze.

”If I wanted traps, I would have given more important names.”

Elizabeth froze for a second and then smiled slowly and predatorily.

”Excellent. That means there are still better names.”

Seraphine realized her mistake too late.

”I misspoke.”

”No,” said Elizabeth, already writing. ”You expressed yourself perfectly.”

In the main hall, new stacks of documents continued to be brought in by discreet servants of the mansion. Ingrivid coordinated the sorting with his usual silent efficiency. When she entered the room, she carried a small leather bag and dropped it on the table.

”I found this hidden at the bottom of a box.”

Elizabeth opened it. Inside were numbered metal tokens and small stamps.

Seraphine stood motionless for a fraction of a second.

Damon saw.

”What are these?”

She hesitated.

Cherry dropped half of her cupcake.

”Ah, now comes the good stuff.”

Seraphine closed her eyes, annoyed with herself.

”Access passes.”

”Where to?” asked Esther.

”Private casinos. Closed halls. Clubs where transactions are done without records.”

Morgana stepped away from the window.

”I know this system.”

Everyone looked at her.

”Of course you do,” said Cherry. ”You know all the expensive gossip in town.”

Morgana ignored the comment.

”These places operate under the guise of entertainment. Music, cards, drinks. In the back, they sell favors.”

Elizabeth held up a card.

”So we have the door.”

”We have a door,” Damon corrected. ”Maybe with armed men behind it.”

”Perfect,” Cherry replied.

Aria placed another tray on the table, this time with coffee.

”If you’re going to plan recklessness, do it awake.”

Damon took a cup this time without protest. Cherry clapped her hands.

”Advanced domestication.”

”Cherry,” said Morgana.

”Yes?”

”Be quiet for twenty seconds.”

She thought.

”Cruel.”

Elizabeth spread the cards in a line.

”How many locations?”

”Three active ones,” Seraphine replied. ”An old theater in the west district. A card club near the high canal. A music house on the central avenue.”

Ester was already sketching out routes.

”The theater has stage exits and underground corridors. The card club is surrounded by alleyways. The music hall is the most public.”

”Ingrivid?” Damon asked.

”The theater is best for escape. The club is best for ambush. The music hall is best for surveillance.”

Cherry raised her hand like a diligent student.

”Which is best for memorable destruction?”

”All of them,” Damon replied.

”Excellent.”

Seraphine observed the group’s dynamics with something close to perplexity.

”You really intend to attack this today.”

”Yes,” Elizabeth replied.

”Without official support?”

”Correct.”

”Without a mandate?”

Cherry laughed so hard she coughed.

”She’s adorable.”

Morgana approached Seraphine’s chair and lowered herself enough to look them in the eye.

”My dear, when institutions are bought, the mandate becomes mere decoration.”

Seraphine remained silent.

That, more than threats, seemed to bother her.

Damon took a sip of coffee and grimaced.

”Bitter.”

Aria replied from the hallway:

”It’s coffee.”

He took another sip anyway.

Elizabeth closed her notebook decisively.

”Simple plan. We investigate two locations before nightfall. We attack the third at night.”

”Better plan,” said Damon. ”We investigate one. We follow whoever escapes. We find the rest.” Ester nodded immediately.

”More efficient.”

”More fun,” Cherry added.

Morgana crossed her arms.

”More risky.”

”Also,” Damon said.

Seraphine let out a short laugh.

”You’ll die exhausted.”

”We’ll rest afterward,” Cherry replied.

”You never rest?”

”Not really.”

In the hallway, a sound of something falling was heard, followed by Ingrivid’s voice:

”It was an accident.”

No one believed him.

Damon placed the empty cup on the table and looked at Seraphine one last time.

”You’re coming with us.”

She blinked.

”Excuse me?”

”If you recognize faces, symbols, or lies, it will be useful.”

”I refuse.”

Cherry was already behind her chair.

”Request denied.”

”This is kidnapping.”

”Technically,” Elizabeth said, gathering the papers, ”you were already kidnapped.”

Aria covered her face with her hand.

”You give me a headache.”

Morgana straightened up gracefully.

”Get ready in an hour. I want discreet clothing, clean routes, and no unnecessary spectacle.”

Cherry raised a finger.

”Define spectacle.”

”You in public.”

”Gratuitous hostility.”

Damon opened the door and went out first. The others began to move in coordinated waves of habitual chaos. Elizabeth took the names to cross-reference with records. Ester ran to get better maps. Ingrivid went to sort equipment. Aria went to get medicine and portable food. Cherry started arguing with Seraphine about which rope was more comfortable.

Morgana stayed last in the room, staring at the prisoner for a silent moment.

”If he’s lying,” she said softly, ”Damon won’t be the one I’ll worry most.”

Then she left, closing the door behind her.

Seraphine remained motionless for a few seconds, listening to the mansion awaken to a warlike rhythm.

Outside, voices crisscrossed the corridors, footsteps echoed, weapons were prepared, and pages were turned. The entire house breathed purpose.

She looked at the closed door and murmured to herself:

”How is this gang still alive?”

Outside, Cherry replied immediately:

”Stubbornness and talent.”