"It's a castle."
Those were the only words Sunny could think of when he saw the pure white building in front of him. Stained glass with a Rosarie pattern, long walls to secure and defend in case of a breakout or escape, bodyguards stationed left and right at every perimeter.
"And... you said this guy is just a low-grade family under Valor?" Sunny asked Jet as they drove inside the walls of the mansion owned by Count Il Vachmount.
"Yep, but of course, a normal household of this rank wouldn't have this type of wealth... that's why we're trying to catch him tonight and..."
"Find proof of the illegal shards and human trafficking," Sunny continued Jet's answer, and she gave a small nod.
"Exactly. For the start of the night, as my informant told me, the host of the ball, who is also our target, will make his entrance later. So, we should gather information on what's going on first," Jet said as she followed the lead of one of the bodyguards, guiding them towards the parking lot.
"I heard it's a masked ball," Sunny remarked, checking the car's surroundings with his shadow, as well as the full layout of the mansion.
"Big," Sunny thought with a frown.
"I heard that too. For a ball that's the talk of streets 1 through 7 of the rich sector, its content information is very lacking."
Jet rolled down the window as a security guard approached.
"You're my brother, and it's your first time at a ball. Act like it."
"Wait, wha—"
Before Sunny could express his surprise, the guard arrived. He lowered his head to see the two of them and spoke.
"Hello, madam, sir. May I have your invitations?"
Sunny froze for a moment, looking up at Jet. He clenched his teeth slightly before playing along the best he could.
"Sister?"
Jet smiled at the security guard, pulling out two notes, each with $100.
"Is this good enough, kind sir?"
The man looked at the bills and frowned.
"This must be a joke."
Sunny cursed his luck silently as he watched what Jet would do next.
"Oh?" Jet seemed genuinely surprised, and Sunny was horrified by her reaction.
"Mam, I'll have to call security and restrict you if you've come with ill intent—"
Pluck
In an instant, Jet's hand flew up and grabbed the poor guard by his tie, smashing him against the SUV door.
Sunny remained quiet, watching the scene unfold with a blank expression. After a moment, he raised both eyebrows, squinting slightly.
"Did you really have to do the money thing?" he asked as he opened the door and stepped out of the car.
"I thought it would work," was all Jet said with a shrug. She opened her door, carefully stepping over the unconscious man. "Come on, help me stuff him in the car."
Sunny sighed.
A few minutes later, the duo stood before the mansion's two large doors, guarded by two bulky men in black suits—one holding a tablet, the other a very large open case.
"Welcome to Count Vachmount's ball. Please choose one of the masks."
The man on the left took a step forward, showing the contents of the case: A crow, a snake, a lion, a gorilla, a dragon, a cat, a dog... and a nightmare creature. Wooden masks, colored in their original inspirations, glimmered in the dark night before Jet and Sunny.
For a moment, Sunny frowned and looked at the two guards.
"The masks... are they only for the ball, or can we take them with us afterward?"
The man with the tablet answered, "They are an entry present, a way for the count to thank you for your time."
Jet raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Is that so? What a gentleman."
She reached for the crow mask, putting it on her face. The mask was composed of a crow's beak with empty eye sockets.
"Does it look good on me?" Jet asked, glancing at Sunny. He frowned at her nonchalant attitude.
"I'm sure she's already noticed the tracking device on these masks."
Sunny was not easily fooled. He only trusted a handful of people, and Jet had never been on that list. He glanced at her smirk one more time before grabbing the snake mask and putting it on. The mask adjusted to his face automatically—a clear sign that the wooden appearance was a fake.
Jet was surprised. "I thought you would choose the nightmare mask."
"You thought wrong," Sunny replied as he looked at the two guards. "Anything else, gentlemen?"
"No, everything is settled. Please, enjoy the night."
The two guards bowed as Sunny and Jet entered the mansion. The hall was lined with wooden statues of nightmare creatures. Though the floor was white as salt, it creaked ominously beneath their feet.
"They really took the 800s vine style to heart," Jet commented as she glanced around.
"Yeah... a fanatic of old times with nightmare statues everywhere. Very normal."
"Money makes humans weird. You'll learn that eventually."
"I won't be rich anytime soon, so we'll see if I remember your wise words."
They chuckled lightly as they approached the ballroom's large inner doors.
---
A dark room, lit only by a faint candle near the window. The room was full of nightmare creature statues and paintings of an old man dressed like a king, slaying the monstrous beings.
"So..."
A deep, masculine voice echoed, the sound carrying an air of experience in the art of sugar-coating.
"I did not expect to meet such a beautiful woman in private."
The old man saw a young woman, her face obscured by a nightmare creature mask. Though its hideous color and disturbing design should have blended perfectly with the grotesque room, it only served to enhance the beauty beneath. Blue eyes, deep like the autumn sky, long wavy hair cascading over her shoulders in soft romantic waves, and a red dress with a v-shaped cleavage, framing her figure elegantly.
"I'm honored to be called beautiful by you, Count," she replied.
The Count smirked, eyeing her up and down as he bit his lip.
"So, what does the star of the so-called Forgotten Shore want from this old man? Awakened Song of the Fallen?"
Cassie smiled, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. His voice was deep but laced with lust. She could hear the rustling of his clothes as he leaned closer toward her from across the table. Though the room was dim, she could tell it took about 8-10 steps to reach her seat. The air was thick, filled with the musty smell of old wood. She mentally noted that the room was likely full of old furniture—or statues.
In front of her was an old man, his appearance unknown, who loved to carve statues of those he had slain.
"I came with a proposal, Count."
Cassie slowly placed her hand at the edge of her cleavage, dragging it slightly down as she clenched her dress tightly, fighting the urge to show her disgust.
"As you can see, I'm wearing this dress, and I don't have a partner at my side..."
"Oho...? What bastard would dare to leave a beauty like you alone?"
Cassie smiled at his comment and continued.
"Then... would you grant this beauty the honor of being accompanied by you, Sir Count?"
"Hmm..."
Cassie's face remained calm, though inside she was battling the urge to strangle the old man. She could hear the rusty sound of him stroking something—thankfully, it seemed to be his mustache.
"I know of the secret auction you're planning to host later tonight, to surprise your guests with the chance to buy something... interesting—"
The Count suddenly grabbed her chin, sealing her mouth shut and making her look directly at him. Her smile faded, replaced by a neutral expression.
"You slut... I let you speak to me in private because of your fame and because you came with a wealthy guest. Don't test me. I could take you right now and sell you like the other girls..."
He chuckled, raising his hand. Cassie grabbed his wrist, placing his hand on her cheek—grateful she didn't have to guess where he really wanted to put it.
"I have another proposal... a way for you to become one of the main branch families of Clan Valor."
The Count frowned.
Though Cassie was blind, the man's reaction indicated confusion, so she continued.
"Tell me... do you know of the temple upside down... and its secret prisoner?"
Cassie smiled slowly, and the Count scoffed, releasing her chin.
"Continue..."