Jiangshi station was very much crowded in the morning. It wasn't at all as Laida described in her texts that it was deserted. The fact that it was so crowded also hampered the activities that Yuki and Alexandrina planned around. David and I followed the two down the station's winding walkways, like it was an underground maze.
The sterile white station was often populated by peddlers that took refuge inside the underground station's walls. They had their entire living quarters there. Most had a futon that they were sitting on, some had a small stove they most likely bought with years' worth of savings. It wasn't as though I wanted to peer into the lives of these homeless peddlers, but it was what Yuki told me to do. And I was her assistant, and I was someone that took my job seriously.
To quote her, "Curses and ghosts utilizing spatial magic to keep people in one place leave signs of their tampering of reality. So, keep your eyes peeled for anything unusual." I wouldn't call the homeless 'anything unusual', if anything I wasn't surprised that for how seemingly clean this city is it'd still have a homeless population.
But I digressed. I noticed a peculiarity, "Hey, that station name." I pointed at the sign above them, a yellow vinyl sign that indicated the station name in various languages, "Jiangshi station is supposed to be on the left at the end of this hallway, right? So why is it pointing towards the right?"
The two in front looked above and analyzed the sign carefully. After a few moments of deliberation, they decided to follow the sign at the end of the hallway. What they found was that the hallway could only go left, and towards the right was nothing more than a wall, "Drina, will you please?" Yuki commanded her dear friend as she pointed at the wall.
"Nuh-uh, learn it." Drina rebutted, pushing Yuki towards the wall, "Come on. Breathe into it. Feel the very fabric of existence around you. Each string within the planck length, vibrate it with the mana in your soul. Breathe."
Reluctantly, Yuki focused her energy. The air vibrated around us, tiny quakes in the fabric of existence that Drina mentioned. Then, with a single push out of her system, the wall collapsed into a million tiny pieces. Inside it was a perfectly pristine white hallway. Architecturally impossible, and definitely where we need to go next.
Yuki closed her eyes, and groaned, "My head feels terrible after that."
"You'll get used to it." As if to flex her abilities, Drina rearranged back the materials that Yuki's own energy destroyed, forming a wall once more. Then, with a single flick of her fingers, opened it up properly, "After you."
Yuki breathed deeply, as if repressing anger lest her headache would get worse, and entered the hallway.
The sterile white hallways were littered with what seemed to be spatial corruptions. Tiles in the wrong place, signs with incoherent words, benches and walls that seem to fall within itself. From what I learned from my boss, it seems that these kinds of things are simply the result of curses and ghosts that have no complete mastery of spatial manipulation.
In fact, with these things it seems almost instinctual. A ghost throwing a tantrum after their death, causing a shift in reality so potent that it carves a world in of itself, "The fact that these spatial corruptions are evident just means the entity we're dealing with isn't quite there yet. What's your take, Yuki?" Drina asked. They walked side by side, her fingers glided on the walls. Felt their texture beneath the skin of her gloves.
"Two weeks, no prior experience, pained." Yuki spoke, before she stopped in her tracks and looked far into the distance. The hallway seemed to never end, after all we've been walking in a straight line for at least a few minutes now, "No. I was wrong. They're not in pain. They're angry. Drina, can you lead?"
The fox girl nodded, "As you wish." And stepped forth. Then, she put her arms forward, facing the seemingly endless hallway, "Follow me." Rhythmically, the tiles on all sides of the hallway recede from their bearings and form in front of us. Every step we take brings the hallway into a clearer scope, no longer was it endless, rather snaking.
Left, right, left, right. I don't recall a single time where we didn't take turn towards the same place twice in a row. It would've been scary, but the place is so brightly lit, and Drina assured us halfway through that "If anything were to happen, I can simply get us out of here with naught but a flick of my fingers!" So I just felt bored.
"Hey, David." I spoke to the orc beside me, he was silent the entire way through and seemed more nervous than anything, "How're you holding up, buddy?"
"Huh? Oh. Thou art asking me?"
"Uh, yeah? Talk to me man, what got you into this group in the first place?"
"Dost thou asketh that to--" He paused, as if trying to find the right words to say. Then, after a while, he sighed, "Will you ask that to everyone in the Night Parade?"
"Probably. I'm a newbie here after all." I reached out to pat him in the back, but it was so wide and far that I couldn't quite reach it.
"Well, I got here because I needed to work on something." He laughed as if that was the only thing he had to say, "Any other question, mister?"
I sighed, "No, no more questions regarding that. So you're Ms. Laida's partner?"
"Yes." He shuffled in his pockets and pulled out a pen, "She gave me this pen back then. She told me that so long as we're close by it would ring out. Pretty useful, I tend to lose her." He laughed, sadly this time around, "I promised that I would protect her, that's why I'm here. Even though I think I wouldn't be that useful in these kinds of jobs."
"Don't worry about it, big guy." Said Drina, "She needs you a lot, don't you think?"
He looked at the pen in his hands. I could see a bit of pain in his face, "I sure hope so." It hadn't rang at all so far. I suppose we're still pretty far from her.
"And besides, this isn't really a high-stakes operation. I can fainly detect her right now. In fact," Drina stopped in place, and so did the rest of us. Then she knelt and placed her hands on the floor. A hole formed below us, and we fell into the abyss.
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"Here, take this." Laida reached out of the boundary and handed Cornelius a glove, "Check if it fits in either of your hands."
The glove in question was woven out of silk and measured in quick order. She had to guesstimate the rest of the measurements of his hand by eye too, so she wasn't all that confident that it would fit perfectly.
Cornelius steadily tried to wear the glove. He was surprised to see that he could not only hold it, but actually wear it. He could feel its texture, the way it moved beneath his skin, and most importantly, it moved with him. It wasn't like other objects in the station where he simply phased through it, he could touch things, and things could touch him. "This is… wonderful!" He said, obviously in awe, "How have I not…"
"It's magic that's useless to the average fashion designer. It's not as if they were always on the field of Seances like this. I just so happen to converge on two dissimilar lines." She remarked, obviously proud of herself, "Shall we make the rest of your clothes?"
Cornelius' gaze remained towards the gloves, still impressed, "What price do I have to pay for luxury like this? I believe I can pay for it, I am… no. I'm no longer a noble. What is in this for me?"
Laida sat back down beside the sewing machine, "Well, now. As the head of marketing at the Night Parade I can't pass this opportunity through. You're not a client yet, so why don't we make a deal?"
"Huh, and here I was thinking your boss would be more the deal-y type."
"Make no mistake, this is not for personal gain.
"Then what is it for?"
"It's simple." She turned towards him, and with a grin, told her plans. Cornelius watched on in terrible agony at the thought that the head of marketing would fall this low. Her terrible and depraved plans in exchange for this small luxury reared over his head. He felt reluctant to accept, but as he stared at the gloves again, he felt that he had to. For a life of luxury that was taken from him. In the end, he was as every bit as vain as every other noble, only that he was a victim to its devices.
Still, in this time, the four fell.