Not far from the precinct, Emma's carriage, drawn by two fine horses, arrived at Anfu Street in a matter of minutes, thanks to the coachman's expert handling.
Elyon adjusted his clothes before stepping out, having removed his epaulettes to appear as nothing more than a man in a common white shirt.
With the shotgun encased in his left arm and a bunch of flowers purchased from a stall outside the door in his right, he resembled a visitor rather than an officer.
"I'll check out the situation first. Stay put, and if gunfire breaks out, you come to support me," Elyon said, his expectations of the lady's help not particularly high.
"No problem, leave it to me," Emma replied, her tension evident as she loaded her bullets.
Upstairs, Elyon approached Cor's door and knocked in the distinct pattern he remembered was unique to the boy's home. After two knocks, the door swung open.
Barbara stood at the threshold, her gaze falling upon a man in a crimson cloak with a hood, and another pretending to read a newspaper.
"This isn't Mrs. Watson's home, is it? I had arranged a visit this afternoon."
The man with a deep voice corrected him, "This is the second floor, not the Watson residence. You're mistaken."
Stepping back, Elyon feigned a glance at the door number, then, tipping his hat, apologized, "Ah, my mistake, sorry for the intrusion."
With a snap, the door closed, and Elyon descended the stairs.
Barbara started to speak, but the cold barrel of a gun pressed against her back silenced her.
"Stay quiet, kid. You wouldn't want anything to happen to your brother, would you?" the man threatened menacingly. Recognizing Elyon as the uncle who had visited with Captain Kappa last month, Barbara obediently sat in the corner.
"That's a good girl. If it weren't for the final offering needing a willing sacrifice, we would've killed such a burden like you already."
"Can you keep it down? The Master will descend after eight tonight, and we might become superhumans. Such a grace should be trivial for the Master," the newspaper-reading man said, excitement in his voice.
Knock, knock, knock. The door rattled again, mere minutes later.
"Who is it?" the shorter man called out, irritation in his voice.
"I'm Cor's tutor from the cram school. Why didn't he come to class today?" A woman's voice came from the other side.
Hearing a female voice, the men relaxed their guard. "He's injured today. We're distant relatives and have taken him to the hospital. He'll return once he's healed."
"Oh, then please sign this visitation slip to acknowledge my visit today."
The short man, reassured, opened the door to find a strikingly attractive woman with short brown hair, her hands empty, without the mentioned slip.
"Where's the slip? I'm ready to sign."
The man didn't notice the dark shadow that darted out from behind the woman, followed by the wooden butt of a gun striking fiercely against his forehead.
A thud, and the man was out cold.
"What's going on?" The man inside heard the commotion and drew his pistol. A veteran of the underworld, he was confident in his marksmanship.
Thud, thud, thud. A metallic sphere rolled in, and before the man could react, a muffled explosion sent a blinding flash through the room. Blinded, the man fired six shots towards the door in panic.
After the gunfire, the sound of hurried footsteps approached. The man readied himself for a fight. Temporarily blind, he didn't need sight for close combat.
Timing his move, he lunged forward, only to hear a sickening snap. Agony exploded in his chest, as if he had collided with a bear, not a man.
Elyon looked down at the man now curled up like a shrimp. "Where have you taken little Cor?"
"I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," the man said defiantly, believing Elyon to be a cop who wouldn't torture him for information.
"Is that so? Then I'll start by killing your accomplice. Let's see if that changes your tune."
A heavy thud followed by a loud bang echoed through the room.
The sound of a high-caliber shotgun firing was unmistakable, followed by the sensation of warm liquid splashing onto the man's leg.
He realized with horror that they might actually kill him. Ordinary cops wouldn't dare to execute someone without a trial.
The barrel of a four-barreled shotgun pressed against his head. "No, you can't shoot. You cops can't just kill us."
"That's easy. There are no witnesses here. You're part of a secret society that endangers society, kidnaps children, and resists with violence. That revolver in your hand with the empty chamber is all the evidence I need. What can a dead man say?" His words were chilling.
"You can't shoot me, I am—" The man caught himself, almost revealing too much.
"And who are you? A noble's lackey? A pawn like you, already exposed, is worthless. Believe it or not, if I kill you today, your boss might even reward me tomorrow, then pin all the blame on your head."
The man fell silent, knowing the noble wouldn't protect him. Even if he survived, the noble would manipulate the police and judges to shift the blame onto his men.
"Kill me then, I have nothing to say."
But Elyon's voice, devilish in its whisper, continued, "Killing you would only satisfy my anger and not help find Cor. How about a deal? You help me find Cor, and I'll help you fake your death, make it look like you attacked an officer, and got killed. I can arrange a fake death for you, and you can flee to the northern colonies. How's that?"
The offer was tempting, but the man retorted, "How can I trust you to fake my death successfully? What about the body?"
"That's easy. Remember the bank robbery last month? How was it an inside job? Simple, they switched the body. Aegisburg has homeless dying on the streets every day. I'll arrange a body for you, quickly cremate it, and pin the leak on your dead accomplice. Then you can safely flee."
"Is that possible?"
"My patience is limited. Five seconds to decide, or I shoot. Five, four, three..." Elyon counted down, and at three, the man spoke.