Police cars with blaring sirens arrived with the morning light.
Claire sat astride the balcony railing of the hotel rooftop.
Beside her, Colonel Coven lay quietly in a pool of blood.
Scattered around him were the shattered remains of black viscous matter.
When the Shapeshifter abandoned its host, it had controlled the blood pressure to crush the colonel’s heart, leaving the rescuers not the slightest chance.
The bearded police chief led his men to surround the colonel.
Weapons were racked one after another, yet Claire calmly waved her hand to signal that it was over.
Tourists along the way all claimed to have witnessed the battle between the black-clad girl and the copper-skinned, iron-boned monster.
The police chief knew this was the handiwork of the Cerberus Bureau.
Yet according to the public security regulations, the Claire before him undoubtedly fell under violent enforcement or excessive force.
Still, she was a vampire of the Cerberus Bureau.
No one was clear which code of law governed the hunting of monsters, and the chief was in no position to claim he had the authority to question her.
Moreover, the chief had no desire to know the inside story of this matter.
Claire’s mission was complete.
At this moment he only needed to report the killing of the local gang boss as his own achievement.
A win-win.
This had always been the tacit understanding between the Cerberus Bureau and the police.
Looking somewhat awkward, the chief lowered his gun and signaled his men to clean up the scene.
Colonel Coven’s corpse was placed into a body bag.
Several officers set up a cordon while others collected the scattered monster remains.
Claire silently picked up the jar containing the Shapeshifter’s main body and walked down the stairs.
The surrounding officers had intended to stop her, but the chief waved his hand to signal them to disperse.
In the past Claire had always reported to the local municipal hall after completing a mission, yet after the Kent incident she no longer held the slightest trust in these people.
When Claire stepped out through the hotel entrance, the morning breeze brushed her cheeks.
She came face to face with Liz.
Liz wore a simple white dress, the hem swaying gently in the wind and outlining her graceful figure.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves and fell mottled across her body, lending her an extra touch of softness and warmth.
Liz smiled and shook the paper bag in her hand.
It gave off the tempting aroma of food.
Claire softly said “thank you” and took the bag.
The two walked side by side toward a nearby roadside park and found an empty bench to sit on.
Claire opened the paper bag, took out a fragrant buttered bread roll, and took a light bite.
The crisp softness of the bread and the rich mellow flavor of the butter blended in her mouth, temporarily driving away the fatigue of the night.
The revelry of the Merchant God Festival had vanished with the night.
The city returned to its former order.
People on the streets returned to their cog-like posts, as if nothing of the previous night had ever happened.
Yet the hotel before them served as a reminder of last night’s battle.
Glass fragments lay scattered across the ground.
The cordon tape swayed gently in the wind.
Occasionally passersby cast curious glances.
“Claire, your recent actions…” Liz’s words carried a trace of worry.
“Killing a succubus in the middle of the pleasure district, destroying half a cemetery just to kill a little fog spirit, and this time killing a parasitized local snake on a festival day… Although we are tracking the remnants of the Mutual Aid Society, you seem more and more…”
Liz paused, as if carefully choosing her words.
“More and more like you are venting anger. This really doesn’t seem like you.”
Claire did not look up.
She simply continued eating the sausage and bread with her head down, as if she had not heard Liz’s words.
Yet in her eyes, a nearly imperceptible fluster flickered for a moment.
“Are you afraid of something?” Liz asked softly.
After the hearing, the two of them had formally become members of the Operation Changeling.
Since Cité University only opened in the autumn, they remained Enforcers of the Fourth Agency until they departed for Caroling.
Claire had not chosen to wait idly in Londinium.
Instead she had set out to continue tracking leads on the Mutual Aid Society.
Yet she had completely abandoned her former calm and composed combat style.
Every operation ultimately ended in violence.
This left Liz somewhat uneasy.
She knew that back at the Intelligence Academy, whenever Claire grew anxious she would take a real sword and hack the wooden training dummies to pieces.
Violence seemed to be the drug she used to numb herself.
“Are you anxious about Operation Changeling?” Liz continued.
“I know that the reason you accumulated merits these past years was to return to the Southern Continent.
I also know that your secret is closely tied to this operation.
I want to share the burden with you.
Can you tell me your story?”
Claire remained silent for a while.
Then she finished the bread in her hand in one breath, as if using this method to mask the struggle inside.
She turned her head and gazed into Liz’s eyes.
Those sorrowful crimson pupils flickered with complex emotions.
“I’m sorry, Liz. It’s not the time yet…” Claire said in a low voice.
Liz froze.
She understood that Claire was hesitating out of consideration for her feelings, yet the faint sour ache in her heart reminded her that she still might not have truly entered Claire’s heart.
“Mm. I’ll wait for you, until the moment you are willing to speak.”
She gently brushed the bread crumbs from the corner of Claire’s mouth.
“But we don’t have much time left for melancholy either.
Ophelia sent a telegram.
She wants us to return and prepare for enrollment matters.”
Claire nodded slightly at the words.
“Mm. It’s about time we went back.”
She stood up and looked toward the horizon at the end of the sea.
Last night a local snake had died on the Isle of Man, yet this city would not become any better for it.
In the days to come, other gangs would draw blades against one another in the struggle to become the next local snake, while those poor youths from the countryside would still become pawns of the people behind the scenes for the sake of their dreams or desires.
That very night a fast ship carried Claire and Liz away from the Isle of Man and to the nearest Albion port.
The train bound for Londinium had already been waiting at the platform for three hours.
The other passengers had long been complaining bitterly, yet the VIP had not arrived, so it simply would not depart.
The local municipal hall had even attached an extra VIP carriage exclusively for the two of them.
It was truly a difference between heaven and earth.
During the hearing Claire had nearly been imprisoned as an imperial spy, yet after the hearing the two of them were subordinates of the Water Goddess Vida and had obtained dual support from both the Cerberus Bureau and the military department.
Now wherever they went they received the highest level of treatment.
***
The sky over Londinium remained overcast.
Clouds hung low, as if a heavy rain could pour down at any moment.
Claire gently pushed open the glass door of the machine repair shop.
The wind chime hanging from the doorframe rang with a clear tinkle.
The mechanical parrot on the counter seemed to sense a customer.
Its small head nodded up and down and mechanically uttered “Welcome.”
A warm current of air drifted out from inside the shop.
In the center of the room, the small furnace that had lain silent for three years was now burning fiercely.
The warm air poured continuously from its glowing red exhaust vents, driving away the chill around them.
Claire looked around and discovered that the wall cabinets once covered in cobwebs had been completely renewed.
All sorts of mechanical parts and precision components were neatly arranged.
Most eye-catching of all were the old-fashioned pendulum clocks that filled an entire wall.
They had all been carefully adjusted to the exact same time.
The soft ticking of the hands intertwined into a unique melody.
At that moment a girl of thirteen or fourteen ran out from the depths of the shop.
She wore a linen apron stained with machine oil.
Her short chestnut hair was a little messy, yet it could not hide the joy and vitality in her eyes.
“Master Liz, you’re finally back!” the girl cheered and threw herself into Liz’s arms.
Liz affectionately ruffled her hair.
The girl’s name was Ellie.
Liz had known her since the old church days, and like Liz she was an orphan.
Ellie was fourteen this year and had reached the legal working age of the United Kingdom, so the orphanage had driven her out.
Liz could not bear to see her go astray or be exploited, so she simply had Ellie manage her machine repair shop.
In the coming years Liz would participate in Operation Changeling and would not be able to return home for several more years.
After a few weeks of brief training, Ellie could already repair clocks independently.
Although it was only the basics, clock repair was the main business on this street.
After all, the residents of the lower city did not have small steam engines or automobiles at home.
After hugging for quite a while, Ellie seemed to find it hard to breathe and wriggled out of Liz’s arms.
“Master Liz, Sister Claire, Miss Ophelia is already waiting for you.”
Then Ellie lifted the cloth curtain that separated the shop from the living area.
Ophelia, with her hair in a braid and wearing a turquoise long dress, was sitting on a chair beside the dining table.
“One in uniform, one in a dress. Did you two really go on a mission together?”
Ophelia said half-jokingly, her gaze moving back and forth between Claire and Liz, though the concern in her eyes was hard to conceal.
Claire and Liz exchanged a smile.
They had long grown used to Ophelia’s teasing.
Ellie brought three steaming cups of black tea and gently set them on the table.
She smiled and said “Enjoy,” then turned and returned to the shop to continue her work.
The three of them sat around the dining table.
The fragrance of the tea spread through the air and intertwined with the surrounding mechanical atmosphere, forming a harmony that was hard to put into words.
Ophelia gently placed a stack of folders on the table in front of Claire and Liz.
“The specific plan for Operation Changeling has already been drafted,” Ophelia said.
Claire reached out to take a folder, yet Liz’s eyes were quicker.
She lightly slapped Claire’s hand away, a sly smile hanging at the corner of her mouth.
“Can you even understand the officialese written by those bureaucratic old fossils? Just listen to our class monitor explain it.”
Ophelia helplessly rolled her eyes at Liz, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.
She had long grown used to this kind of daily banter.
She cleared her throat and formally entered the main topic.
“Since the founding of the nation, the Kingdom of Caroling has always been our protectorate.
But thirteen years ago, the Duke of Normandy usurped the crown of Caroling.
After seizing the country he frequently showed goodwill toward the Empire, and there were even rumors that he was willing to return the crown to the Empire.
You should all have learned about this in the international current affairs class at the Intelligence Academy.”
Claire and Liz nodded.
They were clearly familiar with this history.
“The Kingdom of Caroling happens to lie between the north and the south.
It is either the forward base for the Southern Continent to march on us, or the forward base for us to march on the Southern Continent.
Now the King of Caroling has made his choice.
He is waiting for the Empire’s response.
Yet the Southern Continent is currently in an interregnum.
Without an imperial decree, no one dares to casually dispatch troops.”
Ophelia paused briefly, her gaze sweeping across Claire and Liz, then continued.
“However, the upcoming Conference of Electors will change all of this.The choice of the new emperor will directly decide whether this potential war breaks out.”
“And the goal of our Operation Changeling is to have Claire approach the Second Princess Flora, influence her, make her the imperial heir who represents our interests, and ultimately… help her ascend the throne as Empress.”
At these words, Liz noticed that Claire beside her suddenly lowered her head deeply.
Her hands clenched tightly together, and the fingers under the table trembled slightly.
Seeing this, Liz immediately took Claire’s ice-cold hand.
“Princess Flora will travel to the capital of Caroling, Paris, this month and begin her studies at Cité University.
The two of you will enroll together with her under the identity of daughters of the United Kingdom’s ambassador to the Lucis Empire.
Uh… nominally you will be half-sisters.”
Liz could not help but give a bitter smile at the words.
“Sisters? Do the two of us look like we belong to the same family?”
Ophelia helplessly shook her head.
“Don’t be picky. Finding an identity that meets the conditions is not easy.
This ambassador only agreed to join the operation after Director-General Sibyl used both threats and inducements.”
Claire finally calmed her emotions.
She looked at Ophelia and asked with concern, “Class monitor, what about you? What role will you play in this operation?”
Ophelia tidied the documents in her hands, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness.
“I originally wanted to infiltrate the academy together with you as well, but our intelligence network in Caroling has run into problems.”
“The only vampire specialist was a loyalist of Alexander and has just been dismissed, so I can only take her place as your liaison, responsible for maintaining contact with you and providing necessary support.”
Liz smiled and said, “With the class monitor as our liaison, we feel much more at ease.”
Claire also smiled and nodded.
Ophelia finished packing the documents and stood up to leave.
“Then I’ll be going first if there’s nothing else.
There’s still a lot to prepare for the liaison work.”
As she spoke she walked toward the door.
Just before stepping out she suddenly turned back and said to Claire, “I almost forgot. Claire, Lady Herta is waiting for you at the Mirror Palace.
Don’t keep her waiting too long.”
With that the glass door closed gently, yet it still set the wind chimes ringing.
Liz patted Claire’s shoulder.
“Go on. Properly say goodbye to Auntie.”
***
On the outskirts of Londinium, Primrose Mountain.
Inside the Mirror Palace, light reflected from countless mercury mirrors created a dreamlike scene.
Claire walked through the interplay of light and shadow and finally found Herta in front of the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hall.
Outside, a fine rain was falling.
Herta’s figure appeared especially lonely in the hazy curtain of rain.
Herta let out a soft sigh and turned around.
“Has the plan all been arranged?”
Claire was slightly startled, then answered softly, “Mm. We set out this month.”
By nature, conversations between the two always ended in silence.
Yet this time Herta broke that silence.
“For a vampire, an undercover mission will be harder than you imagine.
Remember that after enrollment you must be especially careful with physical education courses.
Under the sun your skin will heat up and appear unusually pale.
If someone with ill intent notices, the consequences will be unimaginable.”
Claire nodded and said softly, “Mm.”
“Memorize the information related to your new identity thoroughly.
You must keep the Caroling documents on you at all times.”
“Mm.”
“Even for courses you are very familiar with at the university, do not overperform and avoid attracting unnecessary attention.”
“Mm.”
“You must constantly watch that Liz’s movements.
I know you trust her, but in an undercover mission one must never let down one’s guard against others.”
Claire had wanted to refute, yet seeing the deep worry in Herta’s eyes she ultimately only gave a soft “mm” and quietly kept this reminder in her heart.
Herta seemed to want to say something more, yet for a moment she was at a loss for words.
She slowly walked in front of Claire, raised her hand, and gently stroked her hair.
“You’ve already grown as tall as me.
Back then you were still such a tiny little thing.”
Herta gently pulled Claire into her arms, her voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor.
“I’m sorry, Claire.
I couldn’t stop them.
In the end you still have to return to that continent and face your own fate…”
Claire gently returned the embrace.
“I’ll come back, Mother.
I’ll bring her back with me to see you.”
Herta ruffled Claire’s hair, messing it up and then gently smoothing it again with her hand.
“If you succeed, come back and tell everyone that you succeeded.
If you fail, come back as well and tell Mother how you failed.
Mother will not laugh at you.”
***
Claire stepped out through the main gate of the Mirror Palace.
What greeted her was a fine rainy night.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and plants.
She slowly walked down the stone steps until she stepped onto the long marble bridge that spanned the canyon.
A melodious song drifted over on the wind, piercing the curtain of rain and striking straight into Claire’s heart.
The song carried a slight melancholy, yet Claire could not understand the language of the lyrics.
She could only feel the sorrow and longing contained within.
In the hazy white mist formed by the splashing water, a familiar red figure entered her view—the Water Goddess Vida, sitting on the bridge railing and softly singing that unknown ballad.
Her red curly hair fluttered lightly in the night wind.
Her blue eyes were like deep lakes, flickering with complex light.
“Good evening, Lady Vida,” Claire said softly.
Vida stopped singing, turned her head to look at Claire, and the corner of her mouth curved into a faint smile.
“You’re finally out.
I was a little worried Herta wouldn’t let you go.
She is the person in this world who cares about you the most.
You must not disappoint her feelings.
Come back safely.”
Claire nodded.
“Mm. I will.
Thank you for giving me the chance to go see ‘her.’”
Vida gave a light laugh, a complex emotion flashing through her eyes.
“Hmph. It’s good that you understand my painstaking efforts.
I understand the pain of being forced apart from a loved one, so I will help you.
Go see her.
Tell her everything you have wanted to say over these years.”
As she spoke she raised her hand and gently patted Claire’s shoulder.
A warm current surged through Claire’s heart.
“The song you were just singing was truly beautiful.
Can you tell me its name?” Claire asked curiously.
Vida smiled faintly, a light of recollection flashing in her eyes.
“Christine taught it to me.
The lyrics are not in the language of this world.
You probably couldn’t understand them either.
The title… seems to be something about a lord… oh right, its name is ‘King of Karaoke.’”
“Karaoke? What a strange name.
What does it mean?” Claire asked in puzzlement.
“I already said it’s a song from another world.
How would I know what it means… In the end she never told me either.”
Vida’s words carried a heavy regret.
“All right!
You hurry back and prepare for going abroad.
I’ll stay and look at the scenery a while longer.”
Without waiting for Claire to offer comfort, Vida’s tone returned to its usual calm and composure.
After thanking Vida once more, Claire turned and walked toward the end of the marble gallery bridge.
Vida’s lonely figure gradually blurred in the rainy night until it disappeared from sight.
Claire stepped into the formal carriage that had long bee