"You must not speak my name without my permission."
...
In the West Borough of Tingen. Daffodil Street.
Selina set her book aside and pulled open the curtains. Allowing for the breath of fresh air and sunlight to seep across her room.
She could still hear the words of The Fool reverberating in her ears, but it came natural to her to abide.
Being familiar with the scriptures and revelations of the Evernight made her aware of the gatherings at the start, reminding herself to always be respectful under Mr. Fool's vision.
With the thoughts of his words receding in her mind. Selina recalled Mr. Hanged Man's agreement of her commission.
She had disclosed that one of her allies, now she calls peers, have been held captive in one of the sea vessels heading to a flag ship known as the Tree of Flesh and Blood.
The Hanged Man's response was curiosity and uncertain word that should not be held as promise for the request of knowing Admiral of Blood's whereabouts.
"Senor... so that's Admiral of Blood's name..." even resting her arms on the window's railing could not scrape the anxiety she has for her believers.
They're heading for the flagship and quite possibly will arrive very soon. Selina felt responsible for keeping their hopes up only for her to abandon them.
No... Kothe Warren's wife is innocent. It seems her husband had deliberately caught all of Child of God's faction's ties to himself without involving her...
Selina sighed while letting her gaze swept across the passing pedestrians. I hope Mr. Hanged Man can relay this plea for help to the Church of Storms...
...
In North Borough. 30 Howes Street.
Art had just returned from his grocery trip, bringing with him a paper bag of ham, a bread, and a few bottles of jam.
The sun had just begun peeking on the horizon. He deliberately went around this hour due to lesser competition for the fresh hams and for the steaming hot loaf that's commonly served in this period of day.
Now back at the street. Art didn't took long for him to see the house he had rented. He chose it specifically for its distance with his workplace.
Click!
His key fitted just right and he opened the door.
Without thinking, he placed the paper bags he held at the living room and proceeded to shower first before breakfast.
At the washroom, he twisted the facet and water droplets came streaming to his body.
"Ack! It's cold!" he complained.
Art had been considering installing a boiling room at the basement, but his allowance could bare the weight of the bills.
Forced to shut, he dealt with the shivering of his body.
For exactly five minutes, he stayed in the washroom, and during those times and unbeknownst to him. A faint clink resounded from the living room.
Art finally closed the valves and walked out. With a towel wrapped over his pelvis, his hand drying his hair, he quickly turned for the second floor.
After another five minutes. He returned to the living room ready to make breakfast.
Another damn day... a dull ache made him press his temples.
Clink!
Suddenly, a small bottle rolled from the table's leg. Inside of its glass container is a match already lit up with a small flame.
Huh? Art instantly felt inclined to inspect.
But after just taking a inch. The bottle's contents erupted from within.
Hiss!
Art was taken aback and withdrew his body away.
However, the cork that was keeping the bottle sealed finally failed to hold the pressure. In the end, it popped out.
Excessive smoke poured out into the confines of his room. It was strange because of the small contents of the bottle, it shouldn't make this kind of reaction.
Unless there's an enemy attack!
Art caught whiff of the scent and instantly covered his nostrils. It's a sleep inducing gas!
Before he took action. The whole living area was submerged in a sea of grayish-white fog.
The mist could still be see through and Art didn't wasted any time to dash for the windows.
But in the spur of his agency. A thin wire of stem suddenly tripped him as he ran.
Thud!
Art's hand cushioned his fall, but in exchange he lose the cover of his nose. He instinctively inhaled the lingering fumes.
There's... a danger! A... powerful... beyonder! he wanted to yell, but the fumes wouldn't allow it.
He coughed and spat foul breath to expend an oxygen.
I must...! It wasn't easy to regain his foothold due to the effects of the gas. It made his thoughts rigid and hazy.
But Art managed to placed his feet in a position of a runner. However, the seed from earlier that he didn't noticed leaped on his behind.
A thin, stem-like vines injected out of the seed's turquoise shell and it wrapped and bind him.
Thud!
Art was restrained to the ground.
Damn... it! What... is this? He tried flailing around for the bind to loosen. But his mind couldn't process the strength he usually had before the fumes.
No...
In the end, Art stopped resisting. The fumes quickly came into his respiratory and traveled from his spine until it reached his basal forebrain, stimulating its ability to promote the release of adenosine and force the recipient to sleep.
Following the dispersion of the gases. The seed jumped around to find a rope. It found one when it opened and enter the basement.
Returning back to the living room. With effort, it dragged the unconscious Art down in the basement.
Each steps a hit on his chin and a bumpy ride for his body. However, since the gas was made to be potent as they inhaler continues to be exposed, he ended up sleeping through the trip.
When they finally arrived at the floor. The seed went back at the surface again, leaping around with the use of its stem vine.
Thud!
It dragged a chair on the door leading down.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
After so many jumping and propelling. The interrogation room is finally prepared.
With great effort. The seed hefted the unconscious Art to sit on the chair, and using the rope, the seed encircled him to bind his arms and legs.
However, when it finally comes to knotting. The seed kept on failing. Perhaps somewhere deep into a wall of gray fog, and a place tucked away, the woman made up of flesh from the ground was fuming with frustration.
For what almost seem like eternity, or nearly ten minutes. The knot was finally tied not to break loose.
The seed jumped around in circles.
However, when it occurred to it that the effects the gas won't extend for too long. It quickly hid itself hindsight, quietly waiting.
After just another three minutes. Art finally woke up.
He saw pitch black darkness, illuminated only by a candle on the side that he didn't recall placing. That's right, he quickly recognized this as his basement.
Damn it... there's an enemy! Who in the hell would provoke us?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Suddenly, under the light casted by the candle. A turquois colored seed that rests on a table called for Art's attention.
Art quickly looked where the sound came.
A seed? And it extends a stem! a sudden bout of horror hovered in his heart.
It was a knowledge that lower sequence beyonders would always have to resort into a confrontation if they want a certain someone abducted. This is due to their abilities for being within the limits of a human.
However, for a seed to act instead of the beyonder. It already explains volume.
He's in the presence of a powerhouse!
"W-What do you want!?" he shouted in a frantic.
The seed of course, didn't gave any expression or verbal response. Instead, with the tip of its stem that had grown a solid bark, it tried writing on the wall.
Grating noise echoed in the room. What the seed produced made him skin unsettled.
It confirms it! The seed is being controlled by a human!
The words on the wall was that of Loenese:
"What is your name?"
"I-It's Art! Art Feud!" out of fear and plea for mercy. Art instinctively yielded to the person's wish.
Then the seed leaped to another spot and began writing; "What is your connection with the Halzter Retrieval company? What is their true operations?"
Art instantly became hesitant. In fear of telling the person behind the seed's control.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"O-Okay! okay!" but his fear of the moment quicky took over. His mouth trembled open, "I-I'm a helper! I am assigned to general moving and labor, and about our operations..."
Considering the person's sequence and their capabilities. Art once heard of a beyonder ability capable of discerning lies from truth.
Because of this, in a fit of horror and apprehension. He just chose to submit and comply with honesty.
"Our director is associated with a secret organization..."
I knew it! behind the seed's mystical connection. In the vast world of a dreamscape.
Selina, clad in her white gown embroidered with strange symbol laces, finally confirmed her suspicion.
"H-He... was one of the large investors of the Red Light Street."
The Red Light Street is known to have bars and hostesses being held within the area. To put it simply, this is this world's equivalent of a Red Light District.
Selina was immediately put to unease just the thought of other woman bidding their bodies for money. But that's how lower class usually thrives from and in order to leave that social status.
"What's his name?" the seed wrote.
Art ruminated his words before answering, "W-We don't call him by his name.
"Usually, when we refer to him. He's ought to be called just director or head manager. He forbids ever bringing his name from the mouths of his employees."
"You're a non-beyonder." the lines written by the seed were a bit more jagged.
Shit! Art forcibly pushed his agency aside and nodded. "Yes, I-I'm just a human, so please."
"What do you do besides carrying?"
"I... often use my allowance to indulge in the Red Light Street." he answered with an irritated heart. As much as he can, he wanted to keep the enemy in the dark.
"Why did you join them?"
"The director... promised that if I stayed long enough. I'll have the privilege to use whatever woman I want without any costs."
Selina's eyes narrowed and her hands began caressing one another as they rest underneath her abdomen.
"Tell me what illegal operations the company do?"
"We are usually just a retrieval company. Other than that, we are involve in the process of carrying materials in the market and hire more members to widen our influence."
The Red Light Street seem to have most of their members...
Selina willed the seed to say. "What is your organization's name?"
Although she's already certain about the answer. She still opted to hear him say:
"Rose School of Thought."
Suddenly, when Art said that. He recalled having a gold coin with him in case of danger.
What Dewford had told him was to flick the coin and he would immediately alerted to dispatch his peers around the area.
This is Howes Street. Near the Halzter Retrieval Company. It was around this time did he praised himself for choosing a location based on his laziness.
Inside of the dreamworld. When Selina finally sensed his face, a vivid image surfaced in her memories.
Suddenly, the seed wrote again; "At June 29. A caravan from Milo traveled into a manor in the outskirts of the town. The crates it held at the time originated from Tingen.
"Tell me..."
Reading this, Art's hand suddenly stopped, trying to reach for his back pocket.
"Did those crates came from Halzter Retrieval Company?"