XXXI
My faith in Selena had always been steady, unshaken by the chaos that surrounded us. I trusted her not just as "Selena Fair" from Hunterworks, my novel brought to life, but as someone who could see through the layers others missed. So when her voice came through the tarot connection I'd given her, I paid close attention.
"We've been circling around for fifteen minutes straight," she said, her tone sharp and precise. "The windows have illusions over them, good enough that they almost fooled me."
I glanced at the passing scenery outside the train window, trying to piece together what she meant. "Is it Silhouette's work?" I asked, lowering my voice.
"No," she replied firmly. "Seems like he was only contracted for the first half of the exam. This illusion is more... scientific than aura-based. And most hunters are too used to aura tricks alone to notice it."
Curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped the window lightly. Across from me, Diamond raised a brow, his expression tinged with mild amusement. He clearly had no idea the glass was enchanted, nor that the train had been looping the same stretch of track for the past quarter hour.
The exam structure was predictable—eight stages representing the Seven States of Aura, with an elimination round up front to trim the herd. Each subsequent stage tested a specific aura type: Trickster, Dealer, Seeker, and so on. We'd just navigated an artificial labyrinth tailored to Seeker-types, leaving Fighter, Caster, Maker, and Reader still ahead.
I considered the possibilities. Fighter challenges were unlikely in a crowded train; there wasn't enough space for combat. A Caster stage seemed equally improbable—no elemental resources to manipulate, no wide-open terrain to draw from. The exam president wouldn't skew the playing field so heavily in favor of one type. That left Maker and Reader as the most logical options.
"Selena," I said, thinking aloud, "this test is probably going to focus on Maker or Reader aura."
Her response came immediately. "I should come to you. I'm your bodyguard, after all."
"No need," I replied, glancing at Diamond. "I've got him with me. If things go sideways, I'll just use him. Better for you to stay where you are. We'll have more of an edge when the exam kicks off."
Information was going to be the deciding factor in this stage—Maker and Reader types thrived on memory, analysis, and the ability to synthesize data quickly. While Tricksters and Seekers relied on insight and cleverness, this round demanded precision and positioning.
I leaned forward, addressing Diamond. "Hey, want some time-sensitive intel to help you pass this exam? It's only available for the next five minutes. Say no, and your chances might drop."
He shot me a flat look. "Am I being scammed?"
"Come on, have I ever lied to you?"
His expression didn't change. "What's the price? If it's like your usual rates, forget it."
"Relax," I said, keeping it light. "First, let's call a truce. Don't want you getting any funny ideas about offing me to dodge the favor you'll owe."
Diamond crossed his arms, considering. "Fine. What's the intel, and what's it going to cost me?"
"Passing together," I said simply.
He gave a small nod, acknowledging the logic. "Mutual benefits. I can work with that. Now spill."
I grinned. "The test is happening right here, on this train. It's probably a Maker-type challenge, maybe Reader. The windows are enchanted with illusions—tech-based, not aura. That fits a Maker-style setup. And there are 28 passenger carts, not counting the conductor's. Satisfied?"
Before he could respond, I felt a sharp tug on my Soul Link—a telltale sign that someone had detected it. My chest tightened. It was the first time anyone had ever sensed one of my connections. I severed the link immediately, my mind racing as I checked my Soul Links for any sign of tampering.
Diamond noticed my pause. "What's the problem?"
"Nothing much," I said, brushing it off. "Just decided your name's too much of a mouthful. I'll call you Black from now on."
"Whatever suits you," he replied, his tone indifferent.
Selena's voice crackled through the tarot connection again. "Status report: Geoffrey just fell asleep and is now leaning on my shoulder. Can I kill him?"
I stifled a laugh. "No, don't bother. He's more useful as a friend. Besides, he'd probably survive an assassination attempt from you, and that means he'd become a bigger problem down the line."
She let out an annoyed tsk, but I could sense her patience fraying—not just from my response, but from Geoffrey's obnoxious snoring. In Hunterworks, I'd written Geoffrey as someone with almost absurd survivability. Selena was going to need every ounce of restraint to deal with him.
The faint hum of my Soul Link resonated through me, subtle and constant, like a whisper at the back of my mind. I kept my aura masked, my intent carefully buried beneath layers of neutrality, and began sifting through the attributes of the hunters I'd marked. My connection attribute made it easier to skim their aura types, giving me a sense of their strengths and potential uses.
Three slots—only three. Two were already occupied: connection and puppetry. That left one open, and I needed to be deliberate about filling it. Hm...
Borrowing attributes wasn't as simple as copying someone else's power. Mastery was always the limiting factor. Even if I could tap into their abilities, I could only wield them as well as my own skill allowed. Often, the result was something new—a hybrid of their talent and my interpretation.
Selena's set of attributes caught my eye: disguise, light, and illusion. A strong combination, no doubt, but not quite what I needed at the moment. I needed versatility, something adaptable for offense or gathering information.
I shifted my focus to Black, seated across from me. Borrowing from him was out of the question. The idea of his aura mingling with mine sent an involuntary shiver through me. It wasn't just the unsettling nature of his abilities—it was the sheer intensity of his presence. No, I'd find what I needed elsewhere.
Among the attributes I could pink from the passengers, I found one I liked enough.
After a moment of deliberation, I settled on something straightforward: vision.
"Already finished with your preparations?" Black asked, breaking the silence.
I glanced up. Of course, he'd noticed. His aura sensitivity was second to none, even if he wasn't a Seeker. Despite my precautions, he'd picked up on my movements. Looked like I still needed more practice.
"Yeah, I'm ready," I replied casually.
Black gave a short nod. "I'll be using one of my abilities. I'll need your protection during that time... can't be too careless."
The way he said it, as if trusting me was a calculated risk, almost made me laugh. Here I thought I was the paranoid one.
As I watched, spiders began crawling from his sleeves, their movements unnervingly deliberate. His breathing slowed, his focus narrowing as he poured his aura into them. These weren't ordinary spiders—they were his aura beasts, a twisted blend of recon tools and weapons. No one in their right mind would want one of those things anywhere near them.
What exactly was Black?
In the early drafts of Hunterworks, I'd written him as an enigmatic Occult Hunter with a flair for the dramatic. But as the story evolved, so did he. By the time I almost finished the novel, Black had become something far rarer: a Devil Hunter. The only Devil Hunter known to exist.
And his unique ability explained why.
Diamond Black could enslave Devils. Not summon, not contract—enslave. It wasn't as simple as it sounded. The requirements to bind a Devil were so stringent that no one else had managed it. Yet Black had succeeded, twice over. Judging by the timeline, he should already have two Devils under his control.
A shiver ran through me, unbidden.
"Done," Black said, sliding off his shades and wiping them with a cloth.
For the first time, I got a clear look at his eyes. His sclera was pitch black, his irises a ghostly white, and his pupils... diamond-shaped. The sight was unnerving, even for me. Those eyes weren't just cosmetic—they were a testament to his abilities and the Devils bound to him.
He caught me staring and smirked. "Curious?"
"Just fascinated," I replied, masking my discomfort.
Black's gaze lingered for a moment before narrowing. "I won't pry into your abilities, so don't pry into mine. Our cooperation should stay on a need-to-know basis. Does that work for you?"
I nodded, appreciating his straightforwardness. "Agreed."
To show some good faith, I decided to offer a sliver of insight into my abilities. "I can create special links made of aura—Soul Links. They're nearly undetectable, and I use them for a lot of things: embedding marks on objects, setting unique frequencies for communication... even reconnaissance. I haven't tested the distance limit yet, but it's more reliable than any smartphone."
Black tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Unique frequencies, huh? That explains why your aura's always... layered. Clever."
I smirked. "It's a work in progress."
Satisfied with the exchange, I leaned back, keeping an eye on the spiders crawling along the walls. Black's abilities were unnerving, but they were also efficient. As long as we stayed aligned, his paranoia and my resourcefulness would make for a formidable combination.
The train continued its looping path, the illusions on the windows masking the truth.
To drive my point home, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my tarot deck. The cards slid smoothly through my fingers as I fanned them out, a well-practiced motion meant to convey ease and control. I sorted through them deliberately, pulling one free and holding it up for Black to see: The Devil.
"Here," I said, extending the card toward him.
Black raised a brow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Symbolic, isn't it?"
I kept my expression neutral. "Consider it a VIP pass. I've been distributing these to those I deem strong, smart, and resourceful. You check all three boxes."
He took the card, twirling it between his fingers as though testing its weight. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the card vanished. "I like it," he murmured, his approval low and measured.
What I didn't say aloud was how carefully I'd crafted that card for him. Black's aura—insidious and infectious—was not something I wanted mingling with mine. The Devil card wasn't just symbolic; it was a shield, built to resist and contain his energy should he try anything... untoward. Each of my tarot cards had been designed with a specific "character" in mind, tailored to personalities and strengths. They weren't just tools—they were safeguards.
The Devil carried more than a name. Its aura was imbued with concepts I'd carefully extracted: faith from churches, restraint from chains, and malice from sins—elements I'd harvested during the recent bloodshed. The process had been painstaking, each concept elusive and volatile, but the result was worth it.
Aura was, after all, a mysterious and unpredictable thing.
I tested my Vision attribute as we waited for the next stage of the exam. The train ride felt endless, with no hint of our destination or how much time had passed. Tapping into the Soul Links I'd left behind, I stretched my awareness, borrowing their perspectives to piece together a rough map of the train.
The results were... ordinary. A few hunters shifted restlessly in their seats, some conserving energy, while others kept watch. No major movements. Still, the technique proved useful—an experimental combination of Vision and my connection attribute. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than relying solely on guesswork.
As I withdrew my focus, a stewardess approached, her cart rattling softly as it rolled down the aisle. It was stocked with an array of refreshments: bottled water, juice, small snacks. She stopped beside us, offering a polite smile.
"Anything, gentlemen? Everything is complimentary, so feel free to take something."
I glanced at Black, who didn't so much as look up, before nodding at her. Keeping up appearances couldn't hurt.
"I'll take some water," I said.
She handed me a bottle of sparkling water, her fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment. It was all the time I needed.
I marked her sleeve with my aura, a subtle touch that wouldn't register to anyone but me. As I took the bottle, I activated a Soul Link, tying the mark to my network.
Soul Link had its limitations—it required direct physical contact and awareness from the target. But by pairing it with a Soul Link, I could circumvent some of those restrictions. The mark acted as a nexus, embedding my power into an object rather than a person. The stewardess wouldn't notice a thing, yet her movements would feed me information.
As she moved on, I tested the link. Through her perspective, I caught snippets of conversations, the clinking of bottles as she offered drinks to other hunters. Nothing critical, but it expanded my reach, and that was enough for now.
Black, ever observant, finally spoke. "You always this thorough?"
I capped the bottle and shrugged. "You can't win these exams without a little foresight."
He chuckled, low and dry. "Fair enough. Just don't overplay your hand. You might not like what happens when you do."
I met his gaze, steady and unflinching. "Same goes for you."
The tension hung in the air for a moment before he leaned back, his smirk returning. "This'll be fun."
I didn't share his amusement.
~031