If hearing the name "Mr. A" didn't immediately make Angel think of the Aurora Order, then her two months as a Nighthawk in Tingen would have been wasted.
The naming convention was unmistakably similar to Mr. C and Ms. D—clearly indicating the man's identity as an Aurora Order Divine Envoy.
She wondered whether this Mr. A had any connection to the two Divine Envoys Angel had fought, whether he knew of a Nighthawk who had repeatedly thwarted the Aurora Order's schemes.
She was immensely grateful for the cat mask concealing her face. Otherwise, if Mr. A recognized her and the Aurora Order captured her, she might truly end up rotting in some Beckhland gutter as Dominic had suggested.
Unaware of Angel's internal turmoil, Dominic's eyes beneath his clown mask surveyed the gathering venue, lingering on each unmasked member as if searching for a specific target.
After the last two members—a tall and a short woman who hadn't concealed their faces—entered the venue, several minutes passed with no new arrivals. Mr. A said in a low voice:
"The gathering begins. State your requirements, or request private transactions."
As Angel wondered how to "state requirements," Dominic had already grabbed a stack of paper slips from the nearby coffee table, taking one for himself and passing the rest to her.
"If you want to sell or buy something, or if you see your requirement on the blackboard, write it on a slip. Attendants will collect them."
He pointed to two blackboards standing against the wall, already covered with numerous transaction listings.
"Human-faced Rose, one bloom, 280 pounds."
"Selling Sequence 8 'Sheriff' formula, 450 pounds."
"Seeking adult widow spider's silk glands, price negotiable."
"Star Crystal, 30 grams, 80 pounds."
"Mummy powder, large quantity, 5 pounds per 10 grams."
"Need 'Audience' and 'Mind Reader' potion formulas, price negotiable in person."
...
Comparing these prices with her memories of Tingen and Enmat Port's underground markets, Angel realized that larger cities indeed had cheaper prices. Perhaps because Beckhland's Beyonder materials had higher trading volumes and transparent pricing, while smaller cities often inflated prices due to scarcity.
Unfortunately, no mystical items. Perhaps such things were purchased immediately upon appearance, or their owners waited for someone to actively express interest before selling at a premium.
Two attendants moved among the gathering members, collecting and delivering paper slips. They would then post the slip contents on the blackboards, announcing each new entry three times to ensure all members noticed it and could facilitate trades.
Angel noticed several members who, shortly after passing slips, were escorted from the room by attendants, returning to the venue within minutes to resume watching the blackboards.
Glancing at Dominic, who was writing something, Angel also took a pen and wrote "Purchase 30 grams of star crystal" on a slip, handing it to an approaching attendant.
This young attendant, also hiding his face beneath a hood, leaned down and said softly, "The star crystal is being sold on consignment here. If you need it, I can bring it over right now."
So convenient...
Angel nodded, carefully counting out 80 pounds in banknotes and handing them to the attendant.
Within two minutes, the attendant returned, presenting her with a small tied cloth pouch.
Opening it, she found a gelatinous water crystal inside, displaying starlight glimmers in the room's dim lighting.
"If the weight is wrong, who should I talk to? Mr. A?"
Though she'd confirmed by feel that the star crystal wasn't short-weighted, Angel still asked cautiously.
"Don't worry. Mr. A won't allow such situations at his gathering, especially with consignment items," Dominic interjected before the attendant could respond, passing a slip to the attendant. "Give this to Mr. A and tell him we're ready to trade."
"How will we trade the manuscript? Also through the attendant?"
After the attendant left, Angel asked curiously.
"How could that be? This isn't some tens-of-pounds transaction. We'll go to a separate room next door."
Dominic looked at Angel as if she were an ignorant country girl.
So that's why people kept being led away by attendants—they were going next door to trade...
Ignoring the Provocateur's constant provocations, Angel thought to herself.
When no one passed any more slips, Mr. A announced, "Rest period begins. Feel free to converse."
The black-robed man then stood from the sofa, left the venue, and entered a small door to the side.
The gathering members began conversing with those nearby, some whispering, others speaking loudly. The entire venue instantly transformed from a secret meeting into something resembling a marketplace. Angel noticed many members seemed to know each other privately, such as the two women who'd entered last—they'd already huddled together in a room corner.
The attendant who'd delivered slips earlier returned to Dominic's side, saying softly, "Mr. A requests your presence."
Your presence? Angel caught the plural form.
Perhaps Sonya had come here with him wearing the cat mask before, or maybe Mr. A had observed their earlier exchange...
Speculating, Angel followed Dominic and the attendant to a study door next door.
"Follow my lead once we're inside," Dominic whispered to Angel before pushing open the door.
Mr. A, who'd left earlier, still wore his black robe and hood, sitting at a rather cheap-looking desk. Behind him, wide windows covered with a layer of dust made the twilight's last rays appear even dimmer.
Angel noticed the study's bookshelves held few volumes—whether due to their owner's lack of reading habits or other reasons, she couldn't tell.
"Your slip said you've obtained the manuscript?"
Mr. A's low inquiry interrupted her observations and thoughts.
"Correct. Is the money ready?" Dominic stepped forward, countering with his own question.
"I need to verify the manuscript's authenticity before continuing the transaction. Recently, numerous forged manuscripts have appeared in Beckhland. I hope you're not trying to deceive me."
After a moment's hesitation, Dominic turned to look at Angel, nodding.
She retrieved the document folder from beneath her cloak, opened the tied string seal, extracted half the manuscript, walked to the desk, and spread the pages across its surface.
Mr. A immediately stood and leaned closer. He didn't touch the manuscript but scanned each sheet with his gaze, lingering long over complex formulas while barely glancing at diagrams.
He recognizes these formulas, or at least understands part of their principles... Could this Aurora Order Divine Envoy have been a top student before turning to cultism?
Angel clutched the other half of the manuscript protectively, carefully observing the Divine Envoy's movements.
After quickly reviewing the manuscript, Mr. A nodded with satisfaction. "Acceptable. Let's proceed."
He watched Angel retrieve the papers, neatly stack them, and return them to the folder before continuing, "Due to changed circumstances, I'm offering two options for this manuscript transaction." Under Dominic's puzzled gaze, he stretched his limbs and settled back into his chair. "First, I purchase the manuscript now, but the 2000 pounds will be replaced with a mystical item. Rest assured, its value definitely exceeds that amount."
Wasn't it agreed you'd directly purchase the manuscript for 2000 pounds... Angel turned her gaze to Dominic, imagining how the Provocateur's expression must be shifting beneath his clown mask.
"Second," Mr. A continued regardless of the traders' reactions, "wait about a week, and we'll proceed with the original plan. As compensation for waiting, I'll add another 200 pounds. However, during this period, you cannot sell the manuscript to anyone else."
So you're basically admitting you don't have the money right now...
Angel understood Mr. A's meaning—he was currently short on cash and couldn't produce it, so they could either accept a mystical item in lieu, or wait until he had sufficient funds.
Of course, facing a likely Sequence 5 Aurora Order Divine Envoy, she didn't dare voice such thoughts. She could only smile behind her cat mask and reply:
"Could you give us a moment to discuss?"
"I never imagined this Mr. A could organize secret Beyonder gatherings yet couldn't even produce 2000 pounds in cash..."
Outside the study door, Dominic's eyes beneath his mask showed agitation. He lowered his voice to speak, afraid of being overheard by Mr. A behind the wall.
"What should we do now? Wait a week?"
Angel asked.
She actually preferred the first option, provided Mr. A's mystical item was truly worth the price.
After being approached by police and Nighthawks, Angel had a growing sense that the difference engine manuscript was a hot potato. Multiple forces were maneuvering behind it—official Beyonders investigating spies connected to the manuscript, gangs kidnapping informants to extract information, even the Aurora Order urgently seeking to purchase it.
Under these circumstances, waiting another week for an extra 200 pounds carried obvious risks.
Dominic clearly shared these concerns. He bowed his head in thought for a while, then clenched his fist as if making a decision and said:
"Then let's go with Mr. A's first option. You take the mystical item and give me the 600 pounds."
Hm? Wait, 600 pounds means I seem to...
Angel suddenly remembered she'd just spent 80 pounds on star crystal. Even adding her remaining spare change, she only had about 530 pounds.
But Dominic had already pushed open the study door and walked inside.
"Mr. A, we've decided on the first option."