“...”
Xia'an fell silent.
Even though she already knew Dabu very well, she still hadn't expected that after dropping such a blatant hint, this guy would actually ask that question.
The gossipy smile on her face vanished bit by bit, leaving behind only exhaustion.
“It's nothing!” Xia'an snapped, throwing those two words over her shoulder before turning around and continuing forward.
A gloomy, grey mist shrouded Hastings Port in the evening.
The scars left by the sea-folk invasion still covered the streets. Most of the shops along the road were closed, their shattered display windows boarded up with wooden planks.
The collapsed outer walls had yet to be repaired, barely held up by a few wooden beams. Broken glass, charcoal, and newspapers soaked and ruined by the rain were mixed into the muddy water.
The two walked along the potholed road toward the printing house, passing several temporary relief stations along the way.
Nuns from the convent, wearing grey aprons, were distributing dark bread. Wounded people sat under the eaves wrapped in blankets, and muffled coughs and cries could be heard from time to time.
A few children crouched by the drainage ditch, rummaging through the silt for copper nails that could still be used.
Dabu followed behind Xia'an with his toolbox on his back, the feeling that something was off growing stronger the more he thought about it.
“Come on, just tell me!” He quickened his pace to catch up, his soles stepping into a muddy puddle and splashing dirty water.
“I really don't understand this kind of stuff, but you have to tell me!”
Xia'an ignored him.
“You were clearly about to say it just now.” “Why did you stop halfway?” Dabu pressed her the whole way.
He genuinely wanted to know. However, he couldn't comprehend at all why Xia'an had suddenly gotten angry.
Women. They were completely incomprehensible.
Listening to the endless chatter behind her, Xia'an's temples throbbed. She finally stopped walking outside a relief station.
Dabu almost crashed into her back. Xia'an whipped around.
“Don't you know that the Director has been giving the boss a hard time all these years?”
“H-Has he?” Dabu looked utterly blank.
“Dawn Lady above!” The girl with pale yellow hair looked up and groaned.
Her expression looked as if the Origin Web had just disconnected right in front of her face.
She took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to smash the toolbox over Dabu's head.
“How about we just focus on the mission, Dabu?” Xia'an waved her hand and turned to walk around the relief station.
“It's way too hard to explain this stuff to you!”
“Hey! Xia'an.” Dabu caught up with her.
“I apologize for my density.” His attitude was exceptionally sincere.
He even reached out to help block a broken piece of wood protruding from the ruins ahead of Xia'an.
“Just tell me.” “Please.”
Xia'an looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Dabu squeezed out an earnest smile of someone eager to learn.
“Fine!” Xia'an agreed fiercely.
“Think back. Doesn't the Director always like to assign the most troublesome tasks to our team?”
Dabu nodded blankly. Then, he asked in all seriousness, “Isn't it the same for the other teams?”
“No!” Xia'an's voice suddenly spiked.
Two nuns in the nearby relief station turned to look at them at the same time. Xia'an immediately pulled her hat brim down, pretending nothing had happened.
Only after they had walked some distance did she say through gritted teeth, “Don't say a word!” “If you want to listen, shut up and listen carefully!”
Dabu nodded obediently.
“That time with the Grey Whale...” Xia'an had just started speaking when her footsteps suddenly faltered.
“Oh, right, you hadn't joined the team back then.”
Dabu opened his mouth. Under Xia'an's warning gaze, he shut it again.
“You should remember that time at the Golden Iris Consulate, right?”
Dabu nodded immediately. Of course he remembered that mission.
“The Director ordered the boss not to appear in the capacity of a Seventh Agency investigator.” Xia'an held up one finger.
“He wasn't allowed to carry any formal action documents.” A second finger.
“And he couldn't cast spells openly inside the consulate.” A third finger.
She waved the three fingers in front of Dabu.
“The problem was, that mission required searching for a containment object, right?”
Dabu continued to nod.
Without using spells, they couldn't confirm the location. Without using their Seventh Agency identities, they had no authority to search the consulate.
Yet the Director still demanded that the boss bring back the containment object without alerting anyone.
To put it bluntly, he wanted the horse to run but wouldn't let it on the road.
“For that mission, the boss could only go in using his private identity.”
“To avoid leaving any spell traces, we didn't even dare turn on our spirit-measuring instruments.”
Xia'an's expression was still somewhat sour as she recalled that night's experience.
“In the end, the object was found, and the consulate didn't make a scene.”
“But because there were no formal documents from start to finish, the boss couldn't even write the action report truthfully.”
“As a result, even though the mission was a success, the boss couldn't receive any commendation.”
Xia'an curled her lips.
“And not long after that, the Director himself received a commendation from headquarters.”
Dabu blinked. He finally sensed that something was amiss.
“So the credit for that time...”
“Shut it.” Xia'an raised her hand just in time.
“You're not qualified to summarize right now.”
Dabu swallowed the words that were right on the tip of his tongue.
“So this time, the boss believes it's another trap of a mission designed to screw him over,” Xia'an continued.
“Mr. Rockland's identity is highly sensitive. He's not an official member of the Seventh Agency, yet he maintains a private partnership with Ms. Cecil.”
“The Director refused to invite him to the branch, yet he ordered the boss to protect him in private.”
“If it succeeds, the credit might not be recorded.”
“But if it fails, the blame will definitely fall on him.”
“The boss didn't want to go himself, but he couldn't openly refuse the Director either.”
“That's why he dumped it on the two of us.”
Xia'an finished and waited for two seconds.
No sound came from beside her.
Somewhat surprised, she turned to look at Dabu.
This guy had actually kept his mouth shut the entire time.
Dabu had a serious expression, but his right hand rose, reaching over Xia'an's shoulder to point behind her.
“Mmh!” He squeezed a muffled grunt from his throat.
Xia'an frowned.
“Don't you think—?”
Dabu pointed behind her twice more.
Xia'an turned her head, following his finger.
On the other side of the street, a gorgeously dressed lady was passing by a tailor shop.
She wore a wide-brimmed dress hat.
The black sheer veil draping from the brim obscured most of her face.
A deep red long dress cinched her waist tightly, highlighting a dramatic curve at her chest.
A heavily decorated short shawl was draped over her shoulders.
No matter how one looked at her, she seemed like a wealthy lady preparing to attend a banquet.
Yet, she incongruously carried an inconspicuous old canvas bag on her back.
The bag was completely out of place with her gorgeous dress.
“Ophelia?!” Xia'an asked in a hushed voice.
“Mmh!” Dabu nodded vigorously.
“You can speak now!” Xia'an said, exasperated.
If she didn't know that Dabu was genuinely clueless when it came to interpersonal relations, she would sometimes suspect that he was trying to provoke her on purpose.
She had told him to shut up just now, and he really hadn't uttered a single word.
Even though the target had already passed behind them, he only knew to use his finger to point.
This kind of execution was worthy of praise in combat.
But in daily communication, it was more than a little irritating.
Dabu stared at the striking figure in the distance, suspicion still lingering in his eyes.
“She's doing that to conceal her identity?” “Isn't that incredibly eye-catching?”
Walking the streets of Hastings Port in the aftermath of the disaster in that outfit made her about as subtle as a carriage on fire.
Almost every passing worker and wounded person threw a glance her way.
If the goal was to hide herself, this outfit was clearly excessively high-profile.
Xia'an didn't answer immediately.
She raised her hand, gesturing for Dabu to follow.
Keeping half a street's distance, the two trailed far behind Ophelia.
“She was already wanted by Wayland to begin with.”
Xia'an slowed her pace, using a carriage transporting timber along the street to screen their movements.
“But have you forgotten the wanted poster in the port pictorial?”
“And the wanted notice we got from Old Palace Yard.”
“Everyone described a young woman wearing a men's suit and a newsboy cap.”
Dabu recalled for a moment.
That was indeed the case.
Ophelia had long dressed in more masculine attire to facilitate her investigations and movements.
The portraits Wayland published in the newspapers also deliberately emphasized her thin, capable, and unkempt characteristics.
She looked completely different from the heavily made-up woman in the gorgeous long dress before them.
“Dressing like this actually makes her less likely to be targeted.”
Xia'an explained in a low voice:
“Being eye-catching doesn't mean being easily recognized.”
“Wayland's people will look at her.”
“But at first glance, they'll only mistake her for some wealthy man's wife or a noble lady who just arrived from out of town.”
“As long as no one stares at her face for too long, this outfit is far more effective than simply changing a hat.”
Dabu looked thoughtful.
“What about the canvas bag?”
“Her disguise isn't thorough enough.”
Xia'an said.
“It's already not easy for an ordinary person to scramble up a fitting, gorgeous dress on short notice.”
“Did you expect her to conveniently match it with a diamond-studded handbag as well?”
The two tacitly ended their idle chatter about Sir Vere and the branch manager.
Now was clearly not the time to discuss office politics.
Ophelia didn't walk fast.
She occasionally would stop by the roadside, pretending to adjust her hat brim, using the display windows and puddles to observe her rear.
Twice, she even deliberately veered near a crowded relief station, looping around before exiting from the other side.
Xia'an and Dabu were forced to increase their distance.
One was responsible for keeping an eye on Ophelia, while the other observed the surroundings to see if there were any other pursuers.
So far, they hadn't spotted any of Wayland's people.
But the two did not relax because of this.
Ten minutes later, Ophelia left the relatively bustling main street and turned into a low-rise old town district.
Most of the houses here were only one story high.
The walls were blackened by soot, and yellowed bedsheets and overalls hung in the narrow alleys.
The drainage ditches emitted a rotting stench, and the distant rumble of printing presses constantly vibrated through the ground.
Ophelia finally stopped in front of a low house.
The house was sandwiched between two abandoned warehouses.
The windows were tightly shut.
No smoke rose from the chimney.
There were no shop signs on the door either.
Ophelia didn't go in right away.
She first walked past the low house and paused at the alley entrance for a moment.
The two instantly tensed up.
They watched as Ophelia in the distance began to look around warily, seemingly trying to confirm if any lookouts were tailing her.
They quickly turned sideways, hiding discreetly behind a fractured brick wall.
“Keep watch for a moment.”
Dabu took off the toolbox on his back.
“Give me some time.”
“What are you going to do?”
Dabu didn't answer.
He took off his right leather glove and pressed his palm against the muddy ground.
A pale blue arcane light welled up from his fingertips.
Fine spiritual lines bypassed the gravel and puddles, rapidly extending across the ground.
The lines connected with one another.
Complex rune nodes lit up one by one, forming a complete magic circle circuit.
Dabu's expression gradually grew solemn.
Xia'an guarded the corner, scanning the low house and the alley entrance from time to time.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes later, the arcane energy at the center of the magic circle contracted inward.
A fist-sized, spherical eye slowly rose from the blue light.
It had no flesh or blood.
The eyeball was composed entirely of translucent arcane energy, with a ring of constantly rotating tiny runes arranged inside its pupil.
The round eye hovered half a foot off the ground, turning quietly toward Dabu.
“You plan to use the 【Arcane Eye】 to scout?”
Xia'an turned around, frowning as she growled in a low voice.
“This is a mundane area!”
“Which is why I need you to use an Invisibility scroll to make it invisible.”
Xia'an's eyes widened.
“Oh, so it's easy for you since it's not your stuff, is it?!”
Rate on N.U.
