Magician in Type-Moon

Page 634

There were no footsteps.

A pure, black figure, seemingly capable of absorbing all light, silently slipped into the room, as if it had been formed from the shadow itself.

The shadowy figure did not approach Danic, but went straight to the large leather sofa that still retained the invisible pressure of the White Winged Duke.

The shadowy figure moved with casual ease, as if returning to his throne, and calmly sat down in the spot where the White Winged Duke had just been.

Shadows flowed around him like living things, blurring his specific outlines and details. Only a pair of eyes, faintly visible in the flickering firelight of the fireplace, seemed to contain an endless abyss, calmly gazed at Danic by the window.

"How are the negotiations going?" the voice of the black-clad figure rang out.

The voice was neither male nor female, neither old nor young, like an echo filtered through countless layers of space, carrying a strange, unsettling emptiness and inhuman quality that was directly imprinted on the listener's consciousness.

Danic's body trembled almost imperceptibly.

He turned around immediately. The thoughtful and complex expression on his face a moment ago was instantly replaced by a heartfelt, almost instinctive respect. He lowered his head slightly, his posture humble, and responded in a clear and steady voice:

“It has already piqued their interest.” He used “they,” clearly referring not only to Bai Yigong alone, but also to the ancient Dead Apostle Alliance that Bai Yigong represented, who might be attracted by the “century-old blood.”

"What are the possibilities?" the black-clad figure pressed on, his hollow voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation, yet carrying an undeniable pressure demanding an absolutely accurate assessment.

Danic raised his head, his gaze not meeting the shadowy figure on the sofa, but instead fixed on the flickering fireplace flames beside the other, as if gathering the most precise intelligence and making the most accurate assessment:

“We received information earlier…” His voice was low, as if he were stating a crucial piece of strategic intelligence. “…that monarch of the Law and Politics Department, Barthezmello… has personally taken action and completely destroyed the core ceremonial site that the White Wings had meticulously arranged in London.”

He paused deliberately, allowing the weight of the message to settle.

“This is not just a blow, but a strong signal!” Danick’s voice carried a hint of cold analysis.

"It declares that the Clock Tower, especially the radical faction represented by the Law and Politics Department, will adopt an unprecedented and ruthless policy of annihilation against the Dead Apostles in the face of the current mysterious leaks and global chaos!"

His gaze sharpened, as if a crucial piece had been placed on a chessboard:

“If…” he emphasized the inevitability of this premise, “…the Clock Tower implements this relentless extermination strategy…”

His conclusion was unequivocal:

"...Therefore, the possibility of Lord Whitewing and his allies cooperating with our Thousand Worlds Tree...is extremely high!"

"Very high!"

He pronounced those three words clearly and forcefully, filled with a cold confidence based on a harsh reality.

The destruction of the London ceremonial ground severed the Dead Apostles' foundation for clandestine activities in the heart of the Magic Association, pushing them into an even more dangerous situation.

Under the full-scale siege of the Clock Tower, the White Wings desperately need a new, safe base to support their massive plans, and... powerful allies to fight against the Clock Tower!

The hidden fortress provided by the World Tree, the insane plan centered on Vlad III, and the alluring "century-old blood"... at this moment, for the desperate Ancient Dead Apostles, they have undoubtedly become the most attractive beacon in the darkness!

The firelight from the fireplace danced on the indescribable outline of the shadowy figure, revealing no fluctuation of expression.

Chapter 660 Clues (4k)

"How is that girl?" Matou Ike's voice was low and steady, like the frozen night.

He was shrouded in the shadow of the large sofa in the living room, his demonic eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light, his gaze catching Aozaki Touko stepping out from behind the tightly closed door deep inside the suite.

Aozaki Touko's posture carried a lingering sense of weariness and focused concentration after research.

She casually raised her hand, her fingertips brushing against a few slightly messy strands of red hair on her forehead, and walked towards the refrigerator in the corner that was emitting a low hum.

"Heh..." A soft, ambiguous laugh escaped from her lips, carrying her usual sharp insight into the essence of things.

"Its vitality is as tenacious as a monster." She opened the refrigerator door, and the cold white light instantly outlined her tall figure and slightly tired profile, illuminating the neatly stacked canned coffee inside.

She precisely pulled out a can; the metal can exuded a cold aura and emitted a faint scraping sound.

"That magic trick of yours..."

Orange pulled the tab with a "click," and the soft sound of the bubble bursting was particularly clear in the quiet living room.

She tilted her head back and took a swig of the cold liquid, letting it slide down her throat before continuing, her tone carrying the calm analytical quality of a researcher dealing with unusual samples.

"...The damage caused is theoretically enough to completely 'evaporate' a life form with her structure several times over."

She turned around, leaning against the refrigerator door, her gaze behind her glasses piercing the dimness of the living room and landing on Matou Ike.

“But…” she shook the coffee can in her hand, the dark brown liquid swirling gently inside, “…she is now ‘perfectly fine’.”

She emphasized the word deliberately, making it sound unnatural and unsettling.

"Skin, bones, internal organs, even that white dress... all the damaged parts were restored as if they had never happened."

Orange took another sip of coffee, her eyes becoming deep.

"The only 'abnormality' is that she's like Sleeping Beauty now, or rather... like a precision instrument that's been forcibly shut down and can't be restarted. You can't wake her up no matter what you do."

She frowned slightly, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the cool surface of the jar, as if recalling the feel and data from the examination.

"It's likely that some peculiar self-protection or repair mechanism is operating deep within... Perhaps it's some kind of 'lockdown' at the soul level? Or a forced dormancy of the energy core?"

Orange pushed up her glasses, the lenses reflecting the cold light of the refrigerator, concealing the almost greedy, inquisitive desire in her eyes that belonged to a Grand Doll Master.

"I'm currently researching this area."

"Tsk," a soft tsk with a cold, metallic feel came from the shadows, and Matou Ike slowly shook his head.

"Even you... can't analyze it thoroughly?" His voice was low, not questioning, but rather confirming some unexpected and stubborn reality.

Aozaki Touko had just walked to the single sofa opposite him, but upon hearing this, she did not immediately sit down.

She casually crushed the completely empty aluminum can, which emitted a soft groan.

She maintained the posture of holding the jar, tilting her head slightly. Her gaze behind her glasses pierced through the dimness of the living room, as if she were re-examining the sleeping presence in the next room, or as if she were conducting a high-speed search and comparison in her vast magic knowledge base.

“Structure…” she began, her voice carrying the calm focus characteristic of a researcher, immersed in the phenomenon itself, “…her body structure is very strange.”

She paused, seemingly considering the precision of each word.

“It is fundamentally different from any Dead Apostle specimen I know, or even from any conventional 'vampire' biological template.”

Her fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of the deformed can, the cold touch of the metal seemingly helping her concentrate.

"And..." Aozaki Touko's words abruptly stopped here.

She closed her mouth, her brows furrowed slightly, and the profile of her face beneath her red hair was particularly clear in the cold light leaking from the refrigerator door.

The only sound in the living room was the soft, bone-grinding sound of the aluminum can being kneaded with subtle force.

She was thinking, searching for the word that could precisely describe her astonishing discovery. This brief silence itself was heavy with meaning.

After about a second or two, the kneading sound stopped. Aozaki Touko raised her arm, and the deformed aluminum can drew a short arc.

With a "clang," it landed precisely in the trash can in the corner, the crisp sound breaking the silence.

Having completed this action, she seemed to have finally sorted out her thoughts, or rather, made up her mind to reveal that stunning analogy.

She didn't sit down immediately, but leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the back of the armchair, her gaze fixed on Matou Ike in the shadows as if it were a physical object.

“Just like you once…” Her voice was clear and slow, each word carrying a heavy weight, “…just like the conceptual dress I mentioned.”

"What?" Matou Ike leaned forward almost imperceptibly, the shadow receding slightly from his face to reveal his slightly pale jawline.

He seemed not to have heard clearly, or more likely, the shock of the sudden analogy itself made him subconsciously need to confirm.

Instead of repeating herself, Aozaki Touko revealed the answer directly. She finally walked around the back of the sofa, her posture carrying the solemnity of revealing a major discovery, and settled steadily into the soft sofa. The leather made a slight creaking sound under pressure.

She sat down, leaning back slightly, her gaze behind her glasses piercing the dimness, fixed on Matou Ike, and uttered that name with crystal clarity:

"It's that scabbard called Avalon."

She paused, allowing the supreme defensive concept of "an ideal paradise isolated from the world" inherent in the name to fully settle in this space.

"Within her body..." Orange's voice was resolute, carrying the absolute certainty of a researcher who had uncovered the core secrets, "...there exists a similar structural principle!"

She leaned slightly forward, her hands clasped on her knees, as if explaining a theorem that had been deduced and verified countless times.

“This is…” her voice lowered, yet contained explosive power, “…the true reason why she was able to remain ‘completely unharmed’ after your attack!”

"Interesting." A smile spread across Matou Ike's lips, but it was like an undercurrent beneath the ice, carrying a cold interest that seemed to know a secret, rather than any warmth.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadow slipping from his shoulder, and his voice regained its usual, almost inorganic, calm: "Her matter will be put on hold for now."

He raised his eyes, his gaze like a precise probe piercing Aozaki Touko across from him, cutting directly to the more pressing issue.

"The progress on the Butterfly Magic side," he said, his voice low but carrying undeniable weight.

"Didn't the message you conveyed earlier say... 'We've found the direction'?"

Aozaki Touko seemed to have anticipated the shift in the topic.

She didn't answer immediately, but a knowing smile, along with a touch of researcher's pride, curved her lips.

She leaned back, sinking into the soft sofa back, her long arms casually stretched to her sides—

There sat a rather sturdy black briefcase, made of some kind of matte specialty leather, exuding a utilitarian, cold, and hard feel.

Her fingertips traced across the bag, making a soft rubbing sound, and she precisely located the zipper pull. With a soft "snap," the zipper was pulled open crisply and cleanly.

There was no unnecessary searching.

She pulled a neatly bound document straight out of her bag.

The document wasn't particularly thick, but the edges of the paper were cut extremely sharply, and in the dim light of the living room, the white edges of the pages seemed to gleam with a faint, cold light.

"Here." With a flick of her wrist, the document, as if held by an invisible hand, glided precisely and unhurriedly across the short distance between the two of them, landing steadily on the coffee table in front of Matou Ike.

The paper made a very faint but clear "tap" sound when it touched the glass tabletop.

Aozaki Touko withdrew her hands and crossed them back to her chest, her posture languid yet exuding a sense of absolute control.

She slightly raised her chin, gesturing towards the document, her voice carrying a hint of "the answer lies within":

"Take a look." Her gaze fell on Matou Ike, her eyes behind her glasses still sharp, but now with a hint of "waiting to see your reaction."

"You should find what you're looking for here."

The document lay silently on the cold glass coffee table. The white cover had no title or markings, its simplicity bordering on the eerie, which only served to emphasize the weight and confidentiality of the information contained within.

The only sounds in the living room were the soft rustling of papers turning and the continuous low hum of the refrigerator.

The dim light outlined his focused profile, his magical eyes moving rapidly between the words, the speed at which the light seemed to move in sync with the rhythm of his reading.

Just as she was focused, Aozaki Touko's languid voice broke the silence.

She had lit a cigarette without anyone noticing, the slender cigarette held between her fingers, the scarlet flame flickering in the dim light.