The distinct smell of salt. The winds howled with the noise of seagulls.

  The flag of the European Federation flapped along with the wind. The massive vessel rode the waves towards the landmass of the States.

  The moment the Europeans caught wind of the ongoing news, they spared no time sending their own people.

  Only a day after the announcement, the Union of European governments contacted the Central Government of the States. They demanded clarification and explanation regarding the States’ bold decision, only to receive vague answers and assuring words.

  The relationship between the States and the European had been always confrontational and unfriendly, due to the States’ tendency to be separated from the European’s grasp. The States landmass possessed various rich resources and potentials with the addition of the infamous “fallen star”, therefore the European couldn’t let this chance slip away, and would seize the moment to take control.

  Assassination, exploitation, corruption, manipulation, and many more tricks to be used.

  Of course, the States themselves hadn’t fully comprehended the Mayor’s motive, yet they saw this plan as an effective method to control the diplomatic stance and the European’s approach. The European intelligence force had been attempting to infiltrate and dig into the condition of the States, and in those three months prior to the announcement, the intelligence war had been secretly carried out.

  Once the announcement was made, the European, through many negotiations and briberies, attained two tickets for the eighteen slots. However, two alone would never be enough for their grand plan. Thus, the European had made preparations

  --

  Two days after the announcement.

  Ring.

  Inside a hideout base under a tunnel, reinforced with wires and wooden beams. Little lights illuminated the vague outline of the interior.

  A girl in a long sandy coat, stood within a lab with countless chemicals, test tubes and flasks. On the wall, pinned a large comprehensive map of the restricted West, with pointers and arrows dictating the best possible routes. On the right side of the maps, was a set of pictures and notes of all eighteen people who had been sent the tickets.

  The Chemist.

  Under the forest of Sephix, at the border of Tuckerion.

  Ring.

  The telegraph machine on the table rang once, and twice. The machine started up with a soft rustling sound as a piece of paper was then produced. On the paper lay a long trail of encrypted messages in Morse code.

  Putting the flask down, the Chemist walked towards the device and retrieved the paper.

  “New directive.”

  She muttered to herself, reading the note.

  “An agent will be sent to you. You both will bring the tickets and travel to Regemea. Assist the main menu from the inside.

  The main menu will arrive in the States shortly. Report back anything important.”

  Afterwards, she quickly grabbed a lighter in her pocket and burned the piece of paper. A standard procedure. Such was the way she worked.

  She was one of the spies sent by France to slip into the participant roster, which she had succeeded in doing by killing a ticket holder.

  The previous ticket holder, a famous bounty hunter, was poisoned in his own home two days before. The poison was a masterwork by the Chemist’s hand, with the ability to bypass every kind of gasmask and effectively take down an elephant in a short five seconds.

  Namely, Hostia.

  Outside of that, lying within her arsenal were truth serum, a paralyzer, cryogenic liquid, and many other tubes of unknown effects.

  She was a well-known figure in Britain for her crimes and atrocities. Simply as that.

  --

  Four years ago, in Britain.

  The girl, Chemist, was leaning against the railing on the rooftop of a university building as she watched the scene below. The chaotic noise of patrollers and the police force running around as they approached a manor.

  She whispered a few words as she was lighting up a cigarette. The warm flame glowed in her palm.

  “Quite a sight.”

  The manor, which was supposed to hold a party for the noblemen, had been held at gunpoint by a group of twenty terrorists. A hostage situation with a bet of a hundred million. As expected, for only ten minutes, the intruders had taken control of the entire block with meticulous planning.

  But such chaos quickly met its end.

  What was left were the convulsing bodies of the so-called terror.

  Poison gas filled the entire manor, from a single cartridge no larger than a notebook, hidden under a wine bottle. All of the guests fled safely, being escorted by the police force. It wasn’t an order from anyone or any organization. This was an act of her own volition.

  “This must be the work of the infamous witch…!”

  The policeman cursed to himself. This was the seventh time they let her slip away. The infamous assassin who only targeted and intercepted in mass incidents before any law enforcement department could act.

  Her poison had never failed to dissipate into the air before being seen. In every case, none of the innocents were harmed. It was a complete clean work, which even put the authority in awe.

  And as the busy streets below shouted their words, she simply watched from afar. No one would ever catch her.

  Yet, that night, it was a different story.

  The sounds of footsteps on the stone surfaced behind her. It wasn’t running at her, nor was it trying to hide its presence. It was a declaration of one's existence.

  Without a hint of acknowledgement, her hand instinctively reached for the vials under her sleeve. Paralysis agents, smoke grenades, and a poisonous agent. She coldly spoke to the shadow behind her.

  “Who’s there?”

  Hearing her, the figure stopped. There was no movement nor killing intent. Just a small whisper.

  “A patroller, yes.”

  “Cut it out, bastard.”

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  Without any hesitation, she faced the mysterious man.

  Stepping into light, a handsome gentleman in his thirties, fully dressed in a fashionable vest and long coat, a striking blue tie, and a wooden cane in his hand. He bowed like a showman and elegantly adjusted his coat.

  Such appearance wasn't new to her. This man had appeared on the news many times before. A man famed for his talent in solving crimes and homicides. Treasure of justice. Loved by the people.

  The Detective.

  “I know you.”

  “You do, yes.”

  “You’re the famous Detective.”

  He nodded again, waving his hand for an introduction.

  “Good evening, my lady. I am a humble Detective passing by these alleys, nothing more, nothing less.”

  "Really? How ridiculous."

  His statement only raised her doubt even higher, as she frowned at his gesture.

  “Then? How did you find me? Alone?”

  The man chuckled, leaning against the wall as the hazy clouds hid his figure from the moonlight. He kept his hand raised, a proof of his intention.

  “It wasn’t hard, you see. I cross-checked the list of the people you saved, simple as that. The person I needed wasn’t among the people who got rescued but the one who hadn’t been at the scene. In this case… your little brother. He was on the guest list, but always lucky enough to be absent. Well, of course, there were others too, but I looked into each of them, until… you.”

  He motioned towards her, still as gentlemanlike as possible.

  The girl glared at him even harder, frustration and caution building up.

  Could he be one of the government spies? Or an assassin sent to get rid of her? Is her brother safe?

  The questions ran within her brain until the Detective snapped her out with a dismissive wave.

  “Don’t worry. I’m here on my goodwill.”

  “Goodwill…?”

  As perplexed as she was, she couldn’t run away, or attack this man. She needed to hear something concrete from him first.

  “What goodwill does a Detective have for me?”

  “Let’s say… the government has noticed your work. You probably won't be safe from them.”

  “Such was the risk I took on long ago.”

  “Yes, I noticed. But, your brother might be different.”

  Followed by the Detective's statement, anger stirred on her exterior.

  All of her sins, her unwanted judgement, had remained nonexistent under the cover of innocence. To keep her brother on the other side, she had treaded on the minefield of no return. It was clear, the sensation. What decided each step of her wasn't courage.

  Fear.

  Her first step had already been destined since that day. The orphanage. That moment when the rich men decided they wanted to raise a guard dog. When they marched through the entrance and held their grip around the collar of purities.

  Among the puppies, one had volunteered itself. It was kept alive with drugs and experiments. It was fed with knowledge and hopeful lies. Until it grew up and attained freedom through the deaths of its owners.

  A life pushed by fear.

  A feeling that she swore would never reach her brother.

  “How much have they known?”

  “A lot, well, may you not like it.”

  Another gap of silence, followed by her tightened grip on the hem of her shirt.

  “So it’s too late, huh?"

  She had been raised in an orphanage along with her brother. She had learned the absolute truth that the strong would win and survive, and the weak would perish. Her brother had always been a modest, genuine, and caring person.

  A weakness in this world.

  So she had decided to be strong. To eliminate all of the strong in her way to protect the weak. To not be bound by the very ideal that raised her.

  Irony. To be controlled by the government would be the complete opposite.

  She leaned against the railing again, the smoke from her cigarette visible in the cold winter night.

  “They will probably use me for something, right? My ability in… killing.”

  The Detective could only nod.

  “That, I’m afraid so, yet, it may be your best offer.”

  “Good grief.”

  In a huff, she jumped on the railing, standing upright as the wind blew through her face.

  “I won’t be seeing freedom like this for a long time.”

  “My condolences.”

  “So, you came all the way here just to tell me that?”

  The Detective chuckled lightly.

  “Haha. Delivering the truth is my duty, and a hobby to say.”

  The Chemist went along with his giggle, dropping her guard as she took a few steps along the railing.

  “Tonight is cold, huh.”

  “Very cold, indeed. No running away?”

  “Not sure where.”

  As the moon shone on the rooftop, she brushed her hair with her fingers, glancing over the dimly lit city around.

  “I believe the world is centered around the strong.”

  Then, with a deep breath, she added.

  “Such is… ridiculous. A ridiculous truth. One of these little bubbles in my hand… can put an end to countless lives, like nothing mattered. The world is brutal. To be the ones down there, it would be the fear of unknown. But as one above, I'm afraid of... myself.

  The needles hurt. Not... only for them."

  Silence followed. She lightly landed on the platform and began walking towards the door behind the Detective. As she crossed past him, she spoke.

  “Would you put in good words for me? Sir collaborator with the government?”

  “Just a humble contractor, but I will. At least, I will ensure your brother's wellbeing.”

  The Chemist vanished into darkness, leaving only the Detective behind.

  --

  The European authority’s plan was to assign their agents to take over as many open seats as possible by assassinating the original ticket holders. Despite the failure of most spies, two of them had accomplished their mission and received their roles as standard participants. Afterwards, the two insiders would secretly assist the two upcoming official European candidates traveling on sea.

  She had set foot on this land only a week after the falling star incident and succeeded in slipping into the second battalion stationed near the corrupted land. Although she couldn’t get anything useful, as the local troops themselves were struggling, she had confirmed one thing.

  The first thing she made contact with in the corrupted land was the corpse of a soldier from the first battalion. His body had been cut in half, with the lower body missing. Nothing natural could have demolished a human body like that, especially from a physician's point of view.

  As strange as it was, the most abnormal part of the dead soldier wasn’t the cause of death, instead, it was the cryptic smile on his face.

  She had thought lightly of the rumors of a Demon Lord on the other side. It had been just a rumor, an awful joke or an exaggeration to her, until the moment she witnessed the evidence that was lying in front of her.

  She didn’t utter a word as she watched the military burn the corpse down to ash. Her mind was occupied by numerous theories and scenarios, yet none of them would ever make sense.

  On the other side existed the embodiment of power.

  --

  In her lab, the glass sound of vials and tubes vibrated the calm air.

  She slowly arranged the chemical agents into her suitcase, preparing for every scenario. The revolvers on her waist and back, along with the hidden armor under her shirt.

  A direct fight had never been her strong suit. To win against the powerful, all of these were nothing but a foundation.

  Once her equipment had been settled, she walked to a nearby communication device, commencing her operation.

  “Watchtower, Chemist here. I’m ready.”

  On the other side was her accomplice, the person in charge of keeping watch outside her hideout.

  “Clear. Carriage is coming, two minutes.”

  “Got it. I’m heading out. See me at the entrance.”

  “Got it.”

  --

  In the center of the ocean, the European vessel quietly traversed through the waves. Following behind them was a fleet of battleships.

  The old and experienced Admiral walked alongside the hurried seamen, cautiously looking over the horizon. He fixed his hat and his sleeves and sternly asked.

  “How long until we arrive?”

  He turned to a nearby sailor, who then quickly replied.

  “In about forty minutes, sire!”

  He nodded with satisfaction on his face. The ticket deep within his bag felt heavy, but such was an honor and a responsibility he must hold.

  Under the order of the Europeans, his mission was to vandalize and sabotage the war. If completed, the Europeans would have the excuse to fully take over the playground, thus, to be sanctioned to bring their army to the land of freedom.

  A perfect play.

  But that wouldn’t be easy for them.

  “Sire! We have sight of a vessel in our way!”

  As the alarmed shout of the sailor reached his ear, the Admiral immediately stormed to where he stood and looked towards the open sea.

  “Which vessel? Is it the States’ army? How many?”

  “Umm… I see… one!”

  “One? How arrogant!”

  “It’s not…”

  The sailor’s words got stuck in his throat. Enraged, the Admiral snatched the telescope from his hands.

  The vessel in front of them wasn’t a battleship, not even a proper ship.

  It was a small boat.

  With a skull flag hung above their sail.

  --

  The Chemist walked through the long tunnel, holding the suitcase tight in her hand. Under her coat, a hidden arsenal of poisons silently rustled.

  Her stride was long and inconsistent. The uneasy feeling in her chest, she wondered if it was fear, or anxiety. Yet she took it as a good sign. To be fearful of something was the motive pushing her forward.

  No matter who the enemy might be, she would find her way through.

  Reaching the final door, a dozen steps away, she pulled the lever placed behind a wooden beam. The mechanical lock on the door hissed with metal noise, announcing the opened path.

  The door creaked open slowly as the sunlight flooded into the dark tunnel.

  “Hello~”

  A voice she had never heard of before.

  In an instant, she reached for her closest pocket, already gripping the deadly poison.

  The person, who was standing in the doorway, wasn’t her partner nor anyone she knew. Her eyes widened in a fraction of a second, despite the blinding light filling in the unwanted shadow.

  As she regained her vision, the person in front of her wasn’t a monster. It was a girl.

  A playful grin of the Sage.

  “Heya! Ehem, ehem! So, let’s see, uhh…

  … What would be a good introduction quote? Err… never mind!

  … Straight to the point! No more beating around the bush! Yeah! Ehem… I need your ticket.

  So let’s start killing each other, yeah?”