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——————————————————— Knock knock—a soft knock came from outside the lounge door.
“Come in,” Angel said, standing up from the sofa by the window.
In the Black Thorn Security Company’s second floor lounge, she instinctively reached toward her skirt, only remembering that she had handed over all her weapons to the young Night Watcher named Leonard Mitchell.
The door handle turned as a woman with white hair, dressed in a black coat, entered with a wooden food box.
At first glance, Angel thought she was elderly, but once the woman fully entered the lounge, she discovered a face around thirty years old beneath the white long hair—unremarkable in appearance but with a serene temperament.
Her black eyes gave the impression of being able to see through everything.
“Seeka Tron, Night Watcher,” the white-haired woman introduced herself curtly.
“The captain asked me to bring you lunch.” The captain is that cold-faced Dunn Smith…
So this is the female Night Watcher he arranged to “keep an eye on” me?
Angel hurried forward and accepted the food box from Seeka Tron’s hands.
The box wasn’t large—it contained an oatmeal bread, a small bowl of stew, a few thin slices of bacon.
Not much, but with meat and vegetables, reasonably balanced.
The Black Thorn Security Company didn’t seem to have its own kitchen; Angel guessed the lunch had been delivered from a nearby restaurant.
Since she hadn’t eaten breakfast, Angel had gone almost a full day without food.
Apart from drinking two cups of hot water in the lounge, her stomach was completely empty.
Without regard to having company, she set the food box on the table and began eating voraciously.
Seeka Tron sat quietly on a nearby sofa, casually picking up a copy of the Ahova Evening News from a few days ago, hiding her gaze behind the paper.
But Angel always felt her attention remained on her.
A female body’s appetite was far less than Angel’s original well-trained stomach capacity.
Although she was desperately hungry, after working through more than half the oatmeal bread with the stew, she already felt about eighty percent full.
Slowing her pace and gradually finishing the remaining food, she picked up the napkin that had been under the bread and wiped her mouth and hands, letting out a satisfied sigh.
Seeka Tron lowered the newspaper and glanced at the empty food box, her eyebrows rising in surprise, making Angel’s cheeks flush slightly.
I was hungry for nearly a day; finishing one meal is perfectly reasonable, right?
Besides, this lunch wasn’t particularly elaborate—previously, I could polish off three servings in one go…
“Where should I put the food box?” To escape the awkwardness, Angel asked.
“Just leave it here; the restaurant staff will pick it up this afternoon,” the white-haired Night Watcher answered with a hint of amusement.
“I just thought it remarkable that you could have an appetite in this environment.” As long as I’m not embarrassed, someone else will be…
Angel’s eyes darted around as she tried to change the subject.
“How many people are in your ‘security company’?
Or rather, how many Night Watchers in total?” The moment the words left her mouth, Angel regretted the abrupt topic shift.
Seeka Tron didn’t seem to mind.
She simply put down the newspaper, adjusted her long legs under the coat to a comfortable position, and leaned against the soft cushion of the sofa before answering after a moment of thought: “Six combat personnel including me.
I think you’ve already met some of them.
Including administrative staff, we have around a dozen people total.” She gave a vague answer—was she worried about leaking some secrets?
Angel silently recalled the Night Watchers she’d met: Dunn Smith, the one called captain; Daly Simone, who dressed like a Spirit Medium; the young Leonard Mitchell; and Seeka Tron before her—that made four.
She remembered that when arriving at Black Thorn Security Company, Dunn had sent Leonard to find two others on leave.
It seemed these were all the combat strength the Night Watchers had in Tingen.
Though few in number, if they were all Beyonders, they would definitely be a formidable force.
Even if they were all Sequence 9, each with different unique abilities, once multiple Beyonders worked together, the variety of their powers would create great difficulties for enemies.
“With only six combat personnel, wouldn’t you be overworked?” Angel pressed further, curious about this point.
Last night, just investigating Cole Granger’s case, three Night Watchers came to her home—half their combat strength.
Excluding those resting at home or on shift, it was almost a full deployment.
Seeka Tron laughed lightly, her narrowed eyes making her appear younger.
“Actually, we’re quite leisurely.
Tingen City doesn’t have many supernatural events to handle—including your case, June has only had four incidents total.
And it’s not just us Night Watchers doing the work.
We’re only responsible for the northern, western, and golden parasol districts; other areas are handled by the Punishers and Mechanical Hearts from other churches.” “If you hadn’t reported to Saint Selina’s Church, we wouldn’t be handling this at all.” The Punishers of the Storm Lord Church, the Mechanical Hearts of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery—these were extraordinary individual organizations similar to the Nighthawks of the Goddess of Night Church.
It seemed that the power distribution among the three major orthodox churches of the Loen Kingdom was quite clear, at least preventing conflicts or even all-out fights when handling relevant cases.
Seeing that Siyka answered every question, Angel asked more about Tingen’s supernatural teams.
It seemed Siyka’s concern about “leaking secrets” was limited to the Night Watcher team itself.
When talking about Tingen’s other two supernatural teams, she was quite forthcoming, enlightening Angel considerably.
————— “…because those people were followers of the Storm Lord, so the Punishers also showed up at the scene.
They hadn’t had any action for a month, and when they saw the captain and me had already resolved the situation, their eyes went wide—we almost came to blows…” Sharing others’ embarrassing stories was indeed one of the best ways to strengthen friendships.
Angel and Seeka Tron quickly became friendly.
When Leonard Mitchell, who had changed out of his black police uniform and was casually wearing a black vest, pushed open the lounge door, Siyka was sitting quite ungracefully with her hand on her stomach, almost rolling on the sofa.
“Ahem…
ahem.” Seeing someone enter, Seeka Tron instantly straightened her posture, as if her earlier relaxed appearance had been an illusion.
“Leonard, what’s wrong?” She looked at the food box on the table, suddenly understanding: “Are you here to collect the food box?” Leonard Mitchell nearly lost his composed expression before managing to answer after a pause: “Of course not.
The server already took the dishes outside; they probably forgot yours.
I’m here because the captain told me to notify you to go to his office for a meeting about tonight’s operation.” Hearing it concerned tonight’s operation, Seeka Tron also became serious.
She stood up and adjusted her coat.
“Then I’ll head to the captain’s office; can you stay with her?” Siyka indicated with her eyes toward Angel, who was sitting on the sofa further in.
Leonard nodded, “No problem; I’m not participating in the combat anyway.” He naturally sat on the sofa where Siyka had just been, picking up the copy of the Ahova Evening News from before.
Seeing Siyka preparing to leave, Angel also rose to say goodbye: “Ms.
Theon, thank you for keeping me company all this time.” Remembering that the Night Watchers were all believers of the Goddess of Night, she added: “May the Goddess protect you.” “May the Goddess protect you,” Seeka Tron drew a crimson moon on her chest before leaving the lounge.
The room fell silent again.
Leonard Mitchell seemed to have come just to read the newspaper.
He sat with his legs crossed, both hands holding the Ahova Evening News, completely focused on the pages as if hidden wealth codes were hidden within.
Angel thought this person was overly serious and liked to ask probing questions, so she didn’t strike up a conversation.
Instead, she pulled a newspaper from a nearby shelf, returned to the sofa by the window, and began passing time.
This was a copy of the Intis Mail from a week ago.
The lounge’s newspapers apparently weren’t updated frequently, and the Night Watchers who used them to pass time didn’t seem to mind this.
She focused her gaze on the front page headline: “Shocking!
Multiple Tingen University Students Mysteriously Missing—Connection to Literature Department Female Professor?” What kind of thing is this?
Angel frowned and set the newspaper aside.
She had no interest in sensational headlines like this.
The fact that such a headline made the front page suggested the newspaper wasn’t very authoritative.
But after a few seconds, she picked up the Intis Mail again, wanting to see if the article mentioned Cole Granger.
After all, this man had used his Instigator abilities to trick numerous students into skipping class and heading to the Armada Mountains north of Ahova County.
According to reports, they’d had no news for a month.
It wasn’t entirely accurate to call them missing—Angel believed they were likely dead, possibly with wolves having carried off their bodies.
After reading through the article line by line, she determined it was worthless news, filled with tabloid-style speculation.
Everything was written for sensationalism, using fictional “sources” for anonymous tips and cleverly using words like “possibly” and “perhaps” to avoid legal issues.
Flipping through the rest of the pages, there was an endless stream of eye-catching headlines.
Topics covered all industries across all countries on the northern continent, with the only commonality being rumor-mongering and scaremongering.
Just as she was about to throw the newspaper far away, Leonard Mitchell, who had been buried in the newspaper searching for “wealth codes,” suddenly spoke.
“You seem to get along well with Siyka.
What’s your first impression of her and of us Night Watchers?” His tone was casual, his eyes still on the newspaper, like a passing comment, but with her experience from the carriage conversation, Angel believed he had some agenda.
“Ms.
Seeka Tron initially seemed cold, but after chatting for a while, I discovered she’s actually a very warm-hearted person.” Angel chose her words carefully.
“As for the Night Watchers—honestly, my first impression wasn’t good.
After all, you all broke into my home in the middle of the night and directly invaded my dreams.
If I weren’t also a Beyonder, I doubt Captain Dunn Smith would have given me the chance to converse at all; he probably would have just prepared to extract all information in the dream.” She first expressed her feelings as an “ordinary citizen,” then changed direction: “However, since it’s for combating Beyonder crime, I can’t say much about that.
Excluding personal feelings, I’m quite impressed with your professionalism and efficiency.” “Our normal procedure is to go with neighborhood police, but this case was in the middle of the night and urgent.
Also, Daly needed to leave Tingen tomorrow, so the captain wanted to wrap it up quickly,” Leonard Mitchell explained, looking somewhat embarrassed by Angel’s blunt evaluation.
“Compared to us ‘moderates,’ the Punishers are crude types who prefer breaking down doors first and questioning later.
The Mechanical Hearts are even worse—they’re used to carrying firearms and striking criminals openly in the streets.
I believe you wouldn’t like their methods.” It seemed he recalled some past experience; the corners of his mouth twitched as if wanting to laugh but holding back.
He casually put down the Ahova Evening News, which he hadn’t actually flipped through, crossed his legs in the opposite direction, and fixed his green eyes on Angel.
“Based on your current impressions, if you had the chance to join the Night Watchers, would you be willing?” Join the Night Watchers?
Me?
Angel looked at Leonard, trying to find any hint of joking in his expression, but Leonard’s face was calm, his gaze steady and unwavering.
He seemed serious…
Angel frowned slightly.
As a former Templar Knight, her first impression of the Goddess of Night’s Beyonder organization, the Night Watchers, wasn’t actually negative.
Much of her negative evaluation just now was to create a persona of an “ordinary person resentful toward violent authorities.” Once viewed from the angle of fighting crime, their swift and straightforward methods became an advantage.
But what does this have to do with me?
Currently, I’m just a witness who submitted a report.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up in prison accompanying Sharon thanks to her testimony.
Now you’re asking if I’m interested in joining the Night Watchers…
I don’t think you’re a “suicide squad” or anything?
She pondered Leonard’s motives, not answering immediately.
“Hehe, I was just asking casually.
Don’t take it to heart,” Leonard said when he saw Angel’s expression shift and she didn’t answer.
He didn’t press further.
“It’s just that supernatural event ‘victims’ like you are usually processed through relocation programs to prevent further harm or secret leaks.
Since you’re already a Beyonder, your options are broader.
After Madam Sharon is captured and brought to justice, the captain should discuss it with you in detail.” Victim?
If Madam Sharon is captured, then by denying that an “Angel Granger” exists and revealing the Sequence 7 Witch’s effects, who would be hanged first—me or her?
When I say “I’m also a victim; Cole Granger died in the advancement ceremony; I’m a wandering ghost from another world,” would anyone believe me?
Although she’d already mentally prepared for the worst to permanently resolve Madam Sharon, thinking of these disheartening possibilities, the good mood Angel had gained from chatting with Seeka Tron evaporated like morning dew under the blazing sun.
She picked up the Intis Mail again, full of gossip and tabloid news, and immersed herself in the fictional reports to pass the time.