Fifteen: Sisters Reunited

I took Christina to meet the Elders.

Following his promotion, Michael had moved into the Archon’s residence. As the saying goes, when one person rises to power, their hangers-on ascend to heaven; I had now been granted the authority to access any level of the Black Coffin. This, however, was merely symbolic—a gesture signifying their regard and trust. Le Gang and Michael knew I could roam freely via the shadows, but they were unaware that Faja could scrub all surveillance footage concerning me. The entire Black Coffin was little different from my own home; the only distinction was that the Black Coffin was far too vast.

Naturally, my access rights sparked considerable controversy. Numerous rumors linked me to the thefts involving the aristocrats within the Black Coffin, which infuriated me, as most of them were malicious fabrications.

I told myself that being a public figure meant enduring slander as part of the price, and with that thought, I could magnanimously forgive those anonymous accusations.

It was just that figuring out how to handle those stolen items was truly giving me a headache.

Michael received us within an Oriental-style temple structure. He extended a hand and smiled, "Ah, the renowned Miss Nana Christina. Even in the previous epoch, I was captivated by the fame of the female swordmaster among the Kindred. Duke Typhon has mentioned you to me more than once. I truly never imagined you would become one of the Nine Hermits of the Sword and Shield Society. Your poise is in no way inferior to Lady Vasilisa."

Christina (hereafter referred to as Chris) replied, "I, too, have heard that the new Archon of the Black Coffin is enlightened, wise, and refined. Meeting you tonight has not disappointed me."

Michael took the hand Chris extended and kissed her knuckles, though he landed on her heavy glove. He did not mind in the slightest, saying, "My good friend Longinus is a delightful companion. I trust he treated you well on the journey, did he not?"

Chris said, "Indeed, he is a very interesting person. At times... a bit eccentric, but there is something about that eccentric style that feels strangely familiar. I always feel as if I have met someone like him somewhere before."

I sighed at this. If this were a standard narrative, even as a disabled protagonist, Miss Nana should have been madly in love with me by now. Unfortunately, this was not a harem-style light novel.

Seeing the large coffin she carried, Michael said, "You must be exhausted from your journey; you should rest. I have instructed my trusted butler, Jean Valin, to arrange accommodations for you on the eighty-eighth level. I give you my word of honor that the mansion will be quite worthy of a noble lady such as yourself. Do you have any other luggage?"

Chris replied, "Thank you for your consideration, but before that, I would like to see my sister."

Michael said, "Of course. I notified Duke Typhon the moment you arrived. I am sure she is just as impatient—"

A second later, Typhon, dressed in a black gown and carrying herself like a female marshal, strode into the temple. She saw Chris, and a smile broke across her face; Chris did the same. But while Typhon appeared reserved and restrained, Chris was gentle and sincere. They did not shake hands, but instead embraced with a silent, mutual understanding.

My interpretation was that in the previous century, there existed a private circle among the Kindred, unknown to humans, known only to those within. Typhon and Chris might not have been biological sisters, but after becoming Kindred, they had become kin through some ritual, and they were renowned throughout the world of the Kindred.

Typhon said, "You are still as lovely as you were before."

Chris said, "My sister, you are just as beautiful."

Michael draped an arm around my shoulder and said, "Longinus and I have matters to discuss, so we shall not linger. You two, make yourselves at home."

I felt that keeping him company was far less pleasant than staying with the beautiful women, so I protested loudly, but Michael dragged me away regardless.

He asked, "Well? Did you find the reactor?"

I said, "Of course. How else would I earn those gold credits from your pocket?"

I described everything that happened in Weeping Village to him in minute detail, leaving nothing out. At the same time, I poured my grand vision for Weeping Village into his ears. Michael listened with growing excitement, constantly wiping away beads of sweat with a handkerchief and nodding repeatedly, interjecting with a "Splendide" or "Excellent" from time to time.

Finally, he sighed, "I agree. Weeping Village will be the heavy industrial base of our future territory and our most important central city, and you shall be that city’s founder."

My spirits lifted and my heart warmed. In an instant, a thousand strategies and ten thousand plans flooded my mind: how to orchestrate the grand design, how to layout the expansion, how to develop the economy, how to attract investment, how to advance technology, how to export culture, how to lower the Engel coefficient, how to build a moderately prosperous society together—all these fantasies and prospects became crystal clear in my head, without the slightest confusion.

Michael said, "However, development requires money."

My heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. I said, trembling, "How much?"

Michael said, "You are the founder; you make the call. I propose that your fee for this mission—twenty million in credit—be invested into the city's construction as initial capital. What do you think?"

I raged, "Why should I pay? That place is a ruin of a village right now; where does it get a value of twenty million?"

Michael said, "It is certainly not worth that, but do you want equity in the reactor? I can let you have ten percent. That is a lucky number, and the future is bound to be very bright."

Reality is just that cruel. The ship of friendship capsizes in the face of a financial storm. I had thought Michael would become more generous after becoming Archon, but it turns out he still squeezes his acquaintances just the same.

I gritted my teeth and decided to treat this as a wasted trip, for Michael had made a grave mistake: in today's world, the reactor is one-of-a-kind, while credit is merely a tool printed by the Black Coffin. I replied, "Deal."

Michael said happily, "Je t'aime!" It seemed to be French for "I love you," but I now deeply doubted the sincerity of the statement. He added, "Now, let me make preparations as quickly as possible. I will have the engineering team take the Yune, carry supplies and construction materials, and head to Weeping Village to begin initial construction. We have plenty of embers and steel, but we can only build selectively. What do you think we should build first?"

I said, "Build the granaries and outposts first, and we also need a city hall and a monument. Let's pacify the interior and secure the exterior first."

Michael said, "Pas de problème! Great minds think alike." The first half of that phrase seemed to mean "no problem."

I returned to the temple empty-handed, feeling as if Michael had drained my blood once again, but this was all for the sake of a dream. If I had a hundred million, I would invest every bit of it.

The sisters were still talking. Although I would never be unfaithful to Lamia, watching beautiful women can prolong one's life and help improve the success rate of Lamia and me raising a child—is this some kind of superstition? Yet in the apocalypse, many superstitious rumors have become reality. Therefore, I drank the Water of Amon.

The toxicity of the potion was not insignificant, but I was so resilient and fearless of sacrifice that I endured the immense pain, crouching on the floor, stealing glances at them. Please do not misunderstand; I am not a person of base character. Please understand that I had just been deceived by Michael and had no choice but to use this method to soothe the injuries in my heart.

It was a pity they were not wearing shorter skirts.

Typhon said with a bitter smile, "I still don't understand what you were thinking back then. Why did you leave me? Why wander abroad? If I had your help, I might have already become the Queen of the Kindred."

Chris said, "Are you still thinking about that island? That utopia?"

Typhon said, "Yes. I should have realized the coexistence of humans and Kindred on that island, rather than staying in the Black Coffin, bored to death and having nothing to do."

They were talking about serious topics, with no salacious gossip, which was truly frustrating.

Chris held Typhon’s hand and said, "Sister, you have changed. You have lost... you have lost your drive."

Typhon sighed, "Having experienced such a catastrophe and watching my life's work reduced to ruins, I truly feel old. But what about you? Are you still chasing that absurd dream? Still looking for that person who doesn't exist?"

Chris said, "Before the catastrophe, I felt like I had found him, but it was like a dream. Soon, I remembered nothing again, and I fell back into the search."

Typhon said, "Have you been hexed by the Mad Blood? Is that why you have such ridiculous notions? A person who doesn't exist? That is as unrealistic as the legend of Cain."

Chris replied, "No, I am certain I am of sound mind. Those Malkavians perished long ago. Now, I am as lost as you are; I can only pin my hopes on fate."

I did not understand a single word they were saying; perhaps it was some sort of boring Easter egg.

Typhon said, "By the way, there is a banquet tomorrow night. You must attend. All the Kindred of the Black Coffin will be there."

Chris sighed, "But I am not a Kindred of the Black Coffin; I am a hermit of the Sword and Shield Society."

Typhon said, "Even if you were human, you could attend, because I have invited you. And you, Longinus."

I was shocked and shouted, "I am not here!"

They both laughed. Typhon said, "You possess not only the Blood of Shadows but also the arts of secrecy. As the most unique human in the Black Coffin, the hero in the mouths of the people, and the bridge between the Kindred and humanity, you too have earned the qualifications to attend our special banquet."

I imagined thirty-some Kindred surrounding me, staring hungrily at my neck, and felt like a pure girl who had stumbled onto the set of a genre film, facing a group of hulking men, feeling helpless and desperate.

I asked, "What is the banquet about?"

Typhon said, "A martial competition to determine who will earn the right to become a Kindred next."

I remembered the terrifying ritual Bella had mentioned and shook my head hurriedly, saying, "I am not participating. I am too overpowered; if I participate, I will certainly win, but there is no point to it."

Typhon said, "If you do not participate, as you are now, you are a suspect who has spied on the Elders' privacy. I could have you arrested and castrated."

What she said was truly ridiculous, as if I would be afraid. But, it is only a competition after all; there is no harm in participating.