The atmosphere in the café was heavy with a strange tension, as if a glass wall separated the place from the outside world. Mystery lingered in every corner after the scattered remnants of the glass butterflies lay across the worn wooden floor.
William leaned over the worktable, his hands clad in black leather gloves. He tilted his pale head over a small magnifying glass, analyzing the shattered glass wings. The cold calm surrounding him was broken only by the soft sound of glass scraping against his metallic tweezers.
Nearby, Liner sat in his usual black attire, like a shadow. He stared at his cold cup of coffee, his expression unreadable, but his tight grip on the table betrayed hidden tension.
In the corner, Maria worked with astonishing focus. Her skilled hands tended to Lawrence's injuries, who groaned softly. She applied herbal compresses and tied the bandages meticulously, her soothing whispers filling the space. Lawrence was close to full recovery, yet the marks of shock and effort still lingered on his face.
Lorath broke the heavy silence with his calm, respectful voice. He stood at the edge of the furniture cluster, hands in his pockets.
Lorath: "May I be excused?"
Liner (coldly): "Why?"
Lorath: "I need to search for something."
William finally looked up, nodding without removing his gaze from the sample. Permission was given quickly and unexpectedly.
William (coldly): "Very well. Go."
Lorath left the café silently, as if the air itself swallowed him.
Nila, examining some strange drawings on the wall, turned toward William with wide eyes.
Nila: "Why did you let him leave now? Everything is happening here. Why would he go?"
Vinsky, polishing a silver knife quietly, gave a faint smile.
Vinsky: "Perhaps he knows more than we think... or maybe he's hiding something."
William finally raised his head and closed the sample box with a sharp click.
William: "Follow him."
Vinsky: "Understood."
In the blink of an eye, Vinsky vanished from the room without a trace, leaving a palpable emptiness in the air.
William returned to the remains of the corpse used for analysis. He picked up a torn piece of clothing, eyes narrowing.
William (loudly, cutting the silence): "Liner and Nila, come with me..."
Maria rushed forward, wiping her hands on a cloth.
Maria: "I'll go with you!"
William gestured decisively toward Lawrence.
William: "You need to help treat Lawrence. We can't leave him like this."
Maria: "Understood."
William, Liner, and Nila stepped out into the thick city air.
Nila: "Finally, I'm leaving this place! I thought we'd be stuck here forever!"
Liner (coldly): "Don't get too excited. This isn't a sightseeing trip."
William and Nila climbed into the covered carriage they had arrived in earlier. Liner held the reins, his grip firm.
Nila: "So, are we going to a place where the remaining family members are?"
William (calmly, measured): "No. They have all left the city. None remain. Only the abandoned mansion in the second steam district is left. This emblem belongs to them... meaning they have returned."
After two hours of traveling through the forgotten old districts, they arrived.
The abandoned family mansion looked frozen in time. Its stone facade was covered in thick layers of dust and moss, as if time had stopped decades ago. Even from the outside, the windows were blocked by rotting wooden planks, preventing any light from entering.
William: "So, the place as they say... dark and gloomy. Don't you agree?"
Nila/Liner: "We haven't even spoken."
William (shrugging faintly): "You are not entertaining."
Liner pushed the large wooden door, which creaked loudly in protest. They entered to find the mansion filled with dust, like gray snow. The smell was horrendous: a mix of rot, decaying wood, and old dust.
William (holding his nose in disgust): "It smells like a massacre would have been better. At least we'd smell the blood."
The three of them began exploring. Nothing remarkable—just empty rooms covered with ghostly white sheets.
Suddenly, as Nila walked down a long corridor, she noticed something strange. William was walking in another intersecting hallway. But when she looked straight ahead, she saw him walking slowly in front of her.
Nila (utterly surprised): "William! Do you have duplication magic?"
William (the real one in front of her): "No? Why do you ask?"
Nila: "Because I just saw you in another place... in the other hallway! You were walking there!"
William's eyes glinted sharply.
William: "We need to check it quickly. It won't hurt; we are more than enough."
They approached the hallway where Nila had seen the other William. Suddenly, without warning, the other William lunged at the real William.
A violent, sudden fight erupted. Their movements were identical; kicks and punches exchanged with the same precision. Dust rose in the air, making it impossible to distinguish the real from the clone amidst the fierce brawl.
Liner intervened with authority, his voice sharp as a gunshot.
Liner: "Stop it, Moriyati!"
Both paused instantly, looking at Liner simultaneously.
William 1/William 2: "What did you say?"
Liner: "Stop it, you fools. This will annoy me. And you don't want to make me annoyed."
Nila (gasping for breath): "Which one is the real one?"
Liner: "Try asking him something the clone wouldn't know."
Nila: "When did you meet me and where?"
William 1/William 2: "At Shanani's shop, Fourth Street, 12 o'clock."
Nila: "What is my favorite color?"
William 1/William 2: "Yellow."
Nila: "What book am I currently reading?"
William 1/William 2: "Dragon's Journey."
Nila: "Wh..."
Liner (angrily interrupting): "Stop! You're wasting time. I'll ask him myself... What is my full, real name?"
William 1/William 2 (confused, looking at each other): "How the hell would we know, Arnold?"
Liner: "Fine, then what do I hate the most?"
William 1: "The cult that killed your sister."
Liner (biting his lip): "Then the other one is the fake..."
William 2 (smirking faintly): "And until now, you've killed two of them."
Suddenly, a sharp familiar voice rang from the back.
Voice: "Who bet on Jack the Butcher's death three years ago?"
William 2: "I did."
At that moment, Sherlock Holmes appeared from behind a pillar, holding a small pistol, and shot William 2 directly in the chest.
William (real): "I didn't expect you to guess that fast… Sherlock!"
Sherlock Holmes (lowering his gun slowly, eyes on the victim): "I suspected this since the day you helped the old man retrieve his wallet, but you didn't recognize me then, Moriyati. It was impossible for you to reveal anything about Arnold's sister's killers in front of a clone."
William: "I didn't know that happened. Anyway, we're done with that clone."
They looked at the corpse, which quickly decomposed into a viscous black substance and sank into the dust.
William: "How disgusting."
Elsewhere in the city, in a wealthier district, the atmosphere was noisy. Reinhardt and the Butterfly emerged from the auction, where dim lighting and whispers dominated.
Reinhardt rode a sleek carriage, while the Butterfly began steering it lightly.
Reinhardt (calm as winter): "That compass is very important. We must take advantage of all possible ways to retrieve it."
Butterfly: "Isn't using clones enough? You've already confused them enough at the auction."
Reinhardt: "That was easy for them. We must focus on distracting them this time... William will start investigating deeper now."
Suddenly, from nowhere, the Blind Man leaped onto the carriage. His movement was stealthy and fast, like a shadow falling from the roof. He tried to stab Reinhardt through the fabric roof. Reinhardt barely dodged the strike, his body nearly grazing the blade.
The Butterfly reacted swiftly, firing a green beam from her hand at the Blind Man, flinging him off the carriage with incredible force.
Reinhardt: "Good thing you got rid of him. Who knows what he intended?"
Butterfly (coldly): "He wanted your head anyway. Don't worry about it."
Before the carriage could gain speed, the Blind Man appeared again beside the Butterfly, moving at incredible speed. With a single decisive strike, he cut off her head! Then smashed through the carriage window and lunged at Reinhardt.
Reinhardt used his old magic. Black crows appeared thickly around him, and within a second, he vanished completely.
The Blind Man went to retrieve the Butterfly's body, but found it surrounded by thousands of butterflies in a flash, and the corpse disappeared as if it never existed.
In a dark, damp alley, Reinhardt walked calmly, unaffected.
Reinhardt: "Using puppets for transport is clever… don't you agree, my lady?"
The Dead Butterfly emerged from the shadows, her body fully intact, dressed in dark clothing, her gaze sharp.
Butterfly: "You need to use your wits more cautiously so we aren't exposed next time. That distraction was good, but dangerous."
Reinhardt: "Thank you, señorita, for the advice. I will take it to heart."
At one of the city's bustling ports, Lorath walked quietly among shipping crates and cranes, searching with focused eyes.
Suddenly, a man descended from a tall warehouse, landing with remarkable grace despite his heavy leather clothing, resembling a seafaring pirate.
Man (hoarse, with a faint laugh): "It's been a long time since I saw you, my friend."
Lorath: "I didn't expect to see you here, Henry the Ruffian. How long have you been here?"
Henry: "About two weeks. You?"
Lorath: "Same. Anyway, what brought you here, Henry?"
Henry: "I'm looking for someone for a friend of mine."
Lorath: "Who are you looking for?"
Henry: "It's Reinhardt. Though that isn't his real name. My friend is in the city, but I don't know where he is."
Lorath (thinking): "Come to the café I work at. Many people there can help track someone like Reinhardt."
Henry: "I met one of them before. I'll visit the rest if I get the chance, but not now."
Suddenly, golden flames burst between Lorath and Henry, forcing them to separate.
Artina appeared, holding black playing cards gleaming with gold in the firelight.
Artina: "Come out, you thieves! There's no place to hide, and I'm not in the mood for riddles!"
Henry fired five quick shots from his pistol, but Artina waved her cards like a fan, burning the bullets mid-air in the golden flames.
Henry (escaping through the warehouses): "Farewell, my friend. Deal with her!"
Lorath: "Damn you!"
Lorath drew his spiritual weapon, a simple black sword radiating mysterious energy, ready to fight Artina. She adjusted her glasses calmly, eyes glowing with challenge.
Artina: "Show me what you've got, thief."
Lorath: "Let's see the extent of your