The moon illuminated the night sky.
A gentle wind passed through the trees, swaying the circus tent.
The Onlooker stood quietly in front of the circus entrance.
The Magician's loud screams could still be heard from outside.
The Onlooker closed his eyes and muttered.
"I let the one who was supposed to die survive... Damn it. I even sent two commanders to his location. Just how ridiculously tough are you!?"
He took his hat off, threw it onto the ground, kicked it, then picked it up.
He pulled the knife from his pocket and cut several pieces off his clothes.
He knelt down, rubbed his hands against the dirt, then smeared it onto his clothes. As soon as they were covered in dirt, he took the knife out again, bit down on the brim of his hat, and cut into his arm.
He bit down harder on the hat from the pain, lowered the knife, and cut into his thigh as well.
The knife and hat fell to the ground.
He was breathing heavily.
He picked up his hat and held it in his hand, then kicked the knife into the forest with his other foot.
He muttered to himself.
"I have to play the role again... Damn my luck."
The Magician shouted.
"How many times have I told you that man was suspicious!? For the past seven years, ever since he suddenly appeared, how many times have I told you he was suspicious, Absurdist!?"
The Absurdist looked at the Magician with saddened eyes.
"Calm down..."
The Lunatic, while bandaging his side and stomach, said.
"The boss is right, Magician... Calm down. You're just angry right now."
The Magician turned toward the Lunatic and glared at him furiously.
"Are you saying our friends' deaths mean nothing to you!?"
He shouted even louder.
"There were eight of us. Nine if you count that cowardly old man who calls himself our leader. How many are we now, Lunatic!?"
The Lunatic took a frightened step back.
"C-Calm down!"
The Magician answered without hesitation.
"I said, how many are we!?"
The Lunatic nervously answered.
"Two... Three, counting the boss."
The Magician was about to say something when The Onlooker spoke from the entrance of the circus in an exhausted voice.
"I... I'm back."
He then collapsed onto the ground.
The Magician and The Lunatic hurried toward The Onlooker.
The Absurdist took a step toward them, but The Magician shouted again.
"Don't come any closer... or I'll kill you."
The Absurdist stopped, took a small step back, and clenched his teeth and fists.
Seven years ago, Mystiquire.
The Absurdist looked at the eight members.
He quietly muttered.
"After what Magician did on the Isle of Wight a few months ago, I think we'd better avoid showing ourselves in public for a while."
The fourth member, The Wanderer, looked at Absurdist, stepped forward, and asked.
"Did Mr. P give us new orders?"
The third member, Harlequin, placed a hand on The Wanderer's shoulder.
"What? Were you planning to cause another disaster like Luton three years ago!?"
He burst out laughing.
The Absurdist slammed his hand against his chair and was about to speak when a man greeted them from the entrance.
"Hello... my unfamiliar friends."
Hearing that voice, The Onlooker instinctively moved away from the man, then turned toward him.
The Magician muttered under his breath.
"The Flaming Crown."
The card in his hand shattered, and flames emerged from its fragments, rushing toward the man.
The man's smile didn't change in the slightest. He simply raised his hand.
The flames turned into butterflies and flew past him.
All the members stepped back.
The Absurdist rose from his seat and stared at the man in disbelief.
"You... who are you!?"
The man raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
He gave a short cough and continued.
"My name is John Smith. I'm a professor at the University of London and a graduate of Oxford University with an MA degree. It's a pleasure to meet you all... the Mystiquire."
A few minutes later.
John quietly walked out of the circus tent, stretched his arms above his head, and grumbled to himself.
"That damn Magician was so suspicious of me. Well, I am a university professor. I didn't exactly lie... for now."
Suddenly, The Onlooker's voice came from behind him.
"Master..."
John turned toward The Onlooker.
"It's been a while since I last saw you... Almost ten years. How long have you been a member of this little cult?"
The Onlooker narrowed his eyes.
"Five years."
John nodded.
"Have you ever paid attention to the beauty of the night sky? Beautiful... perhaps even dark."
The Onlooker stepped forward.
"Can you stop fooling around and tell me what you're thinking... Master?"
John's smile disappeared.
"I'm looking for a culprit... or rather, I'm looking for someone I can make look guilty."
The Onlooker stared into John's eyes.
"Then what was that business about breaking the Divine Gift's seal in Westminster with Mystiquire's help?"
John answered without hesitation.
"A lie."
The Onlooker asked in surprise.
"A lie? What do you mean?"
John exhaled.
"Why should I tell you? What do I gain from it?"
The Onlooker glanced behind him for a moment.
There was no one there.
The Onlooker knelt down.
"If Mystiquire carries out an operation in London, they'll be blamed for it easily... after that, I can destroy Mystiquire for you. That way, if the NPO finds our location and attacks Mystiquire, by the time they get here, no one will be alive to tell them the slightest thing about you."
John's smile returned.
"You expect me to believe you won't take anything in return? I can tell from the way you're talking that you want something."
The Onlooker stood up and gave a proud smile.
"For you, Master... it's not much."
John slightly turned his hand.
"Then what do you want?"
The Onlooker turned away and looked toward the trees.
"I want the formula for the eighth and seventh Depth potions of the Watcher Covenant."
John quietly turned and began walking toward the other side of the forest.
"Once The Legend of Idris belongs to me... come and collect what you want."
A faint smile appeared on The Onlooker's face.
"Yes, Master."
The Absurdist's voice came from behind The Onlooker.
"What happened, Onlooker? Why are you standing outside? Did something happen?"
The Onlooker turned toward the Absurdist with an innocent smile.
"No, no. It's just that... the sky feels different tonight."
Present, A few minutes later.
The Magician treated The Onlooker's arm and thigh with the Lady of Roots card.
The circus fell silent.
Then The Magician suddenly said.
"I'm leaving."
The Absurdist hurriedly asked.
"Where are you going? Do you even have anywhere to go!?"
Magician answered angrily.
"None of your business... I'm leaving so I never have to see your cursed face again."
The Absurdist reached out as if he wanted to say something, but The Lunatic passed by him as well.
He quickly grabbed The Lunatic's hand.
"Where are you going? You've been with me since you were a child. Why are you leaving too?"
But The Lunatic stopped for only a moment. Then he pulled his hand away from the Absurdist's and left.
The Absurdist silently watched Magician and Lunatic leave.
He slowly knelt on the ground.
Several minutes passed, but neither of them returned.
Suddenly, The Absurdist felt his hair being pulled from behind.
His eyes widened in surprise.
He tried to scream, but a handkerchief was shoved into his mouth.
The Onlooker whispered beside his ear.
"Oh, look at that... Did you see what happened? They left you. How sad. How painful... The children you raised yourself abandoned you."
A knife pressed against the Absurdist's throat.
"You might not believe me... but for the first time, I'm actually glad I found a knife in this circus."
The Absurdist frantically searched the ground with his hands, but found nothing.
He raised his hands and grabbed The Onlooker's hand.
The Onlooker smiled.
"Old man... you're struggling quite a lot. That's good, I suppose. At least you're not ready to die."
The Absurdist tightened his grip around The Onlooker's hand.
But The Onlooker showed no reaction.
"I'm a little annoyed that those two survived... but until Mr. P gives the order, I won't do anything to them. But you..."
He paused, then continued.
"At first, I only promised John Smith... but a few months ago, Mr. P also told me that Mystiquire had to be eliminated little by little. You know, you've caused quite a lot of trouble for both of them."
The Absurdist's hands slowly loosened and fell away from The Onlooker's hand.
A few tears fell onto The Onlooker's hand.
The Onlooker quietly muttered.
"Justice for Roles was a good slogan... but its time is over."
The knife slid across the Absurdist's throat.
Blood spilled onto the ground.
His hair fell loose.
A body collapsed onto the floor.
The Onlooker slowly stood up and looked at the knife in his hand.
"I think I'll have one last talk with Professor John."
He took a deep breath, dropped the knife, and looked down at the Absurdist's corpse.
"Who would've thought the great Absurdist, leader of Mystiquire... was nothing more than a sheep among a pack of wolves? How tragic."
He walked past the corpse, quietly left the circus, took one of the torches, and threw it beside the tent as soon as he stepped outside.
He walked farther and farther away from the circus.
The flames grew larger, taller, and hotter.
The Onlooker entered the forest and slowly looked back.
The circus tent had become a hill of fire.
A faint smile appeared on The Onlooker's face.
"To be honest... I had fun. It's just that happiness tends to end a little too soon."