"Here you go, sir," Jack said with a polite smile as he handed the glass to the noble.
That courtesy, however, was only surface-deep. His attention was fixed elsewhere, specifically on the detectives across the hall. He tracked their movements carefully, his eyes shifting only when necessary, alert for any sign that they might separate or relocate.
The noble noticed. Jack's gaze kept drifting past him, never quite settling, and the thought rubbed him the wrong way. For a brief moment, irritation crept in. Was this attendant so distracted because he didn't recognize his status? Or worse, was he being deliberately ignored?
The answer was both.
In Jack's eyes, the nobles gathered around him were nothing more than patrons, names and purses tied to his little sister's work as a novelist. Faces that smiled, paid, and moved on. Their titles meant little to him. The only exceptions were the unfamiliar ones, those who had come from beyond the country's borders.
"Would you mind if I asked for another cup of wine?" the noble said with a hollow chuckle, his gaze lingering on Jack a moment too long.
"Hm?" Jack replied, glancing at the crystal cup in the man's hand. "But there's still wine in that glass." His eyes flicked back up. "And if you don't mind me asking—have you even tried it yet?"
"Oh, this?" the noble said lightly, lifting the cup as if only now noticing it. "The thing is, this beverage is already empty."
Jack frowned
From where he stood, the cup was clearly filled with deep red wine that caught the light. He opened his mouth to question it, but the noble moved first.
Without warning, the man tipped the cup forward.
Cold wine splashed across Jack's face, soaking his hair and collar as droplets scattered onto the polished floor. A few nearby guests gasped; others turned sharply, drawn by the sudden motion.
The noble straightened.
"Now," he said softly, amusement lacing through his voice, "do you believe me when I said the cup was empty?"
Jack remained still for a moment, and wine dripped from his bangs and darkened the collar of his coat. The polite smile never left his face, even as his blue eyes caught the light through the crimson sheen clinging to his skin.
"I see," he said at last, giving a small, almost careless shrug.
Then his tone shifted to something firmer.
"But next time," he continued, eyes settling squarely on the noble, "I'd advise you to choose a better place, and a better moment, if you intend to pull a stunt like that again."
"Huh?" The noble breathed, confusion flickering across his face, as his smile faltered upon seeing Jack's calm reaction.
"…Wh—what are you talking about?" the noble stammered, his confidence cracking as Jack's warning settled in.
Guests started gathering to see what was going on. To their surprise, they found Jack smiling as if nothing had taken place at all, though he was soaked in wine.
"What's going on here?" a calm, authoritative voice cut through the whispers.
The lady from the Vikii family stepped forward, the one in her forties. She held an empty crystal cup in her hand, and her expression was polite but sharp.
Both Jack and the noble turned toward her.
"Nothing," they said at the same time.
Jack's reply was smooth and even. The noble, however, came out half a beat late, thin and unsteady.
The lady, however. Her eyes flicked between Jack, who was drenched like a stray, and the noble still gripping his cup as if it were evidence itself. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
It was clear she wasn't stupid enough to believe either of them.
Jack subtly shifted his gaze to where the detectives had been standing earlier, only to catch sight of them already moving toward the upper floors of the mansion.
Oh, no…I must've stood here too long that I didn't even notice them leaving.
He lingered for a heartbeat, scanning the nobles around him while his mind raced for a way out that wouldn't draw attention. Leaving abruptly would look suspicious. Lurking would waste more time.
Then he noticed that most of the nobles nearby had already finished their drinks. Empty crystal cups were scattered in their hands, their attention drifting elsewhere as they waited for an attendant to collect them... At least he assumed.
That's it, I can just collect the empty cups around without acting out of place. He thought, a smile tugging at his lips.
"If you'll excuse me," Jack said smoothly, taking the cup from the noble's hand before the man could react. He gathered the other empty cups nearby.
Jack turned and walked away, threading through the crowd and heading in the same direction the detectives had gone. Still soaked.
"Hey—where do you think you're going?" the Vikii lady demanded, her voice sharp as she followed after him.
The surrounding nobles and guests instinctively parted, their conversations dying down as they watched her pursue the wine-soaked attendant toward the stairs. Curious glances followed the pair, confusion rippling through the hall.
Meanwhile, the noble who had poured the drink on Jack quietly slipped away from the scene, his earlier arrogance replaced by a tight, nervous expression. He disappeared into the crowd, seeking refuge elsewhere.
No one paid him any mind.
All attention remained fixed on the Vikii lady as she ascended toward the upper floors, her measured steps echoing softly while she closed the distance between herself and Jack.
An hour later, the noble who had poured the wine on Jack sat inside his vehicle, finally preparing to leave Sil Bernard's mansion. Lingering at the event had left his legs sore and his patience thinner than he cared to admit. Deciding there was nothing more to gain by staying, he ordered the drive and leaned back against the cushioned seat, intent on returning home and getting some much-needed rest.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound repeated against the vehicle window, slow and deliberate.
Six seconds passed before the noble stirred. Someone stood outside the vehicle, their fingers tapping lightly against the glass. In the dim streetlight, pale blue eyes reflected faintly on its surface. His irritation drowned out the details he should have noticed — like the dark stains smeared across the figure's hands, or the unnatural stillness of the carriage driver slumped at the front.
"What is it?!" He demanded, opening the door, only to find a young woman staring at him with a grave, unflinching expression.
No. It wasn't just seriousness, but the expression of someone who had come to resolve something.
"Who are you?" the man asked, finally realizing she was just a lass.
She shrugged. The faint light captured all her facial features, revealing a famous novelist without her glasses. Or, in other words, Jack's little sister, Nyx. Only that didn't matter at the moment.
"I'm a nobody… at least, to you," she said. Then she paused. "Except… introductions don't matter right now."
"You dirtied something important to me, and you are going to pay... With your life," She continued, her voice as flat as her chest.
The man found what the lass was saying confusing; it didn't make any sense to him.
"...What are you going on about?" He asked for more details, since the lass had mentioned something about his life.
"Nothing," she replied, tilting her head slowly to the left, letting her long hair follow the motion.
The man grew even more confused; on the other hand, the lass looked so familiar to him, as if he had seen her somewhere. Then recognition flickered across his mind.
"Wait... Aren't you the lass who was with Lady Vikii at the event?"
"Which one?" Nyx replied, her tone still flat. "…Oh, you mean Selena."
"Anyway." She reached behind her hair and pulled out a long, thin needle, the ones used to assassinate people in modern movies.
Before the man could react, Nyx had already stabbed him in the chest. The needle pierced through it, and blood started to slowly seep. A second later, he realized that the lass had stabbed him.
"Hm?" he groaned, staring at the needle in disbelief.
"That's one." Nyx began counting calmly, a grave expression still on her face. And before the man could scream for help, she swiftly pulled the needle from his chest, pulled out a revolver from her right thigh, and pressed it against the man's mouth as a warning that if he tried to scream, that would be it for him.
Blood continued to flow from the chest wound, and as for the needle. It was now pierced on his thigh.
"That's two."
Tears ran down his face. He could feel his muscles tear apart in places where the needle struck.
Nyx pulled another weapon from her left thigh. A knife. And to be precise, Kevin's knives.
She carried a lot of weapons that one might wonder. Where does she keep all of them without any kind of bag? And the answer to that was complicated.
She tore off all the man's right-hand fingers, letting them fall to the ground before pulling the revolver away and continuing to pierce his chest with the long needle, vigorously without pause.
"Three, four, five, six, seven, eight..." Before she reached nine, the man collapsed with a heavy thud, lifeless.
"I thought he would last longer than that... But." She stopped, looking down at the gaping wound in his chest, and his heart was shredded into nothing.
"..."
She shifted her dead eyes and looked at another man who was supposed to be the noble's driver, but now, they were both dead. At least from the looks of the drive's case, it looked like he suffered a quick and painful death, compared to the noble.