Edward Dace.

28. November.
Sunday, 7:30 p.m.
The Brown Mansion.

I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WHEN THE MAN REACHED OUT HIS HAND.

I was speechless, and I blanked out. When he reached out his hand, did he want me to take it? Did he want me to kiss it, The Godfather style?

I got so nervous that my hand moved on it's own, taking the guy's hand and pressing it against my forehead. Ilang segundo ang nakalipas bago ako natauhan at dinatnan ng hiya. Bakit ako nagmano sa kanya?

"Do you remember me?" he asked, not even the slightest offended by my action.

I nodded and sat beside him, gazing at Fenrir, because Fenrir was the only familiar thing around. "You spoke with me before I ran away from home, ultimately changing my life."

He smiled, patting my head. Kaya ako napapamano sa 'yo, eh. "How far have you come?"

"Oh, quite far." I caught myself. "I mean... I'm sure I'm not the same Edward Dace that I am before."

"How?"

"I have... learnt a lot?"

Bakit tunog hindi ako sigurado.

"I don't run away anymore!" I added, proudly. "And I think I'm braver. Not Laevateinn-brave, but braver. A-And I have friends now too."

"But why are you alone?" he asked, closing his eyes and leaning back. He petted Fenrir and I think he's humming but it might be the crickets chirping giving me the illusion.

"I'm not alone, I came here with... Coronado Chronicles." I bit my lip and ran my fingers along Futhark's metal bracelet.

I'm not alone, I convinced myself.

"They'll come back," I said aloud, because I was hesitant and slightly unconvinced. I thought maybe hearing myself say it would give it conviction.

"Indeed, they will."

My mind was thrown into a confused state for a while, possibly because I have my doubts about discussing my life with a complete stranger, and this urge to just tell him everything.

I realised I have this unhealthy habit of opening up to strangers and it has stung me once when I opened up to Nicholas in that tea shop, when I thought he couldn't understand Tagalog.

"You're... Njal, right?" I asked. I thought getting more info about the other person would make him less of a stranger. "The person they call the Alfadur?"

"They call me by those name, yes."

"Oh, that's not your real name." I shrugged. "I get it... You're Sir Lance's adoptive father? How old are you? You look too young to have grandchildren."

That's me, I'm the grandchild. I'm owning it.

Njal tilted his head a bit to the right, like a real grandpa. "Do looks have anything to do with being a grandfather?"

"Well, age does. And your looks can depend on your age." Before our conversation turned into something about my height, I spoke, "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" Njal hummed, his eyes closed and his face lifted to the night sky.

"Do you know a certain NJ Germaine?"

"Nicholas James Germaine, your young, bright brother."

"Yep, yep, uh-huh, bright as the sun." I hissed to soothe my irritation from the mention of the name. "Total eyesore," I added in a mumble, then I cleared my throat. "I mean the older Germaine. His father."

"He's your father too—Norcross."

Norcross.

Tangina tunog Red Cross.

"Can you tell me something about him?" I asked.

"What do you want to know?"

"What do I need to know? Nicholas said he cared for me more than he cared for Nicholas, but I don't see anything that he has done for me."

"Norcross created the Seven-Minute Semblance initiative to protect you."

My eyes widened. I knew my father asked Sir Lance and Arthur to protect me, but I didn't know he was behind the initiative.

"I thought it was Nicholas who..."

"Nicholas follows the Mad Hatter's plans, and he executes it well. That child is clever and brave."

Clever and brave.

Hindi sa nanlalait ako pero nakakairitang maliit na batang iyakin talaga ang nakikita ko kay Nicholas.

"So he's not the one who actually planned it all?" I asked. "He's not the one who planned an entire deadly game of tag that spelt Joyeuse's name?"

"He follows the Mad Hatter's plan."

"But why Joyeuse?"

I remembered Sir Lance saying my father knew Jule and he even made Sir Lance follow the drama queen to the Philippines.

"If my father is the former Mad Hatter, the one who planned it all..." I lowered my head. "Does it mean that Nicholas actually meant it when he said he wanted to come home to a hug?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"Joyeuse, probably. He's heartless."

He laughed softly, and I, awkwardly, which then turned into a comfortable silence.

Nicholas implied that we can't be real brothers because of our roles. Could it be because he has to follow the Mad Hatter's plans, whether he likes it or not?

But our father's dead, why would he care?

Is there somebody else controlling the org? The King and Queen of Hearts? They seem higher than Nicholas in ranks. The White Queen? Sino pa ba ang character sa Alice in Wonderland?

"Sir Lance said my father was ambushed," I turned my head to Njal's direction. "Do you know who killed my father? A-And whoever they are, are they planning to kill me too?"

Njal smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. "Your father was killed by a dear friend of yours."

I jumped away from him. He was suddenly too cold and too scary for me. "W-What do you mean a dear friend of mine? You mean someone from my circle of friends actually... killed a person?"

Njal kept the smile and stood up. Fenrir yawned and rubbed his face against Njal's thighs. "That's all I could tell you," Njal said. "If you think something's not right, then don't stop until you've found the truth."

He started walking away, and before he and Fenrir could disappear into the dark of the trees, he added, "If you see my dear child Siegfried, please tell him to come home before breakfast."

I don't even know how I'd process the part where you said a friend of mine killed my father. Now you're leaving and asking me, nonchalantly, to tell Laevateinn, who disappeared without goodbye, to come home before breakfast?

You know, Njal, when I imagine you in my head you're this divine philosophical figure that cannot be—hold up, Njal's a genius.

He mentioned Laevateinn so I'd look for that apple-crazed idiot and together we can trace down my father's killer a.k.a. that "dear friend"!

With Laevateinn's hyperthymesia we can carry out our own investigation! We're going to investigate something again!

And he said the same line Sir Lance told us: if something's not right, never stop until we've found the truth.

He's given me clues!

Perkele. I could not, for the love of God, force an epiphany out of my brain.

Next time, Njal, tell it to me straight away.

How does Joyeuse connect things with his brain easily? Is this connected to those flying words of his? How do you even have flying words?

Do you just imagine it? Do you just take the clues and throw them in front of you like a hologram? Try to find a pattern? Overthink everything until everything makes sense?

I stared at the trees and tried to imagine holograms of words in front of me.

Dear friend of yours.

That's all I could tell you.

Never stop until you've found the truth.

Friend of yours.

Tell you.

The truth.

NOW HOLD THE FUCK UP.

What's the last two words of Njal's last sentence? Before breakfast? Dear friend of yours tell you the truth before breakfast?

No, I'm reading into it too much. That doesn't make sense.

Or does it?

Nah, it doesn't make sense.

Unless...

Nope. I'm tiring my brain out. Sir Lance was right. Thinking like Joyeuse is exhausting. I should get back inside and ask if I could go home to think.

••• GENIUSFORSALE •••

Mistletoe met me at their fourth living room. He said he was looking for me and that he was worried I'd get lost. I told him I used to live at the Lukas's maze of a mansion. Malamang sanay na akong maligaw at hindi maiyak kapag naliligaw.

Plus I connected my phone to their receiving hall's Wi-Fi. The stronger the connection, the closer I am to the exit.

Mistletoe, ever the good guy, offered me a plate.

"Nasaan sina Zwei?" I asked him, taking my time choosing between the orange soup in a glass and the green soup in a glass. They're both soup, why are they in different colours and why are they in a shot glass?

"Nakikihalubilo sila sa mga bisita." Nilagyan ni Mistletoe ng hipon ang pinggan ko. "Si Macey, kung hinahanap mo, nasa kusina kasama nila Excal at Clarent. Saan ka ba nagpunta kanina? Bigla kang nawala, inisip tuloy ni Zwei na tumakas ka. Tumakas ka ba talaga?"

"Sinundan ko si Fenrir." Pinitik ko ang kamay ni Mistletoe dahil kung anu-anong pagkain ang nilalagay sa pinggan ko.

"Ibig sabihin nandito rin si Lae?"

"It's your damn house, bakit parang hindi mo alam kung anong nangyayari sa bahay n'yo?"

"Ikaw ba, nao-orient ka ba sa lahat ng nangyayari sa paligid mo?"

"Ang tapang mo na, ha. 'Pag wala na tayo sa lupa n'yong mga Brown, makikita mo."

"Joke lang, Ed, 'wag ka nang magbanta." Hindi nadala si Mist at nilagyan naman ng crab ang pinggan ko. Hinayaan ko na dahil sabi ko magpapakabait ako sa presensya n'ya at sa pagitan ng mga pader ng lima nilang sala.

"This party's quite impressive. Mukhang big shot mga kaibigan ng kuya mo." I jerked my head towards the direction of a rather noisy crowd of foreigners.

Mistletoe wasn't impressed with them, though. "Gusto lang nilang makakuha ng connection dito."

"Si Ichaival din naman, parang kanina pa nakikipag-networking."

"Magaling lang makipag-usap sa mga tao si Val. Ikaw, 'di ba mass comm ka? Dapat magaling ka ring makipag-usap sa mga tao, hindi 'yong lagi kang nagtatago sa mga gadget mo."

I took a bite of my shrimp. "Eh. Minsan nga naiisip ko na gusto ko nang mag-shift."

Mistletoe's eyes widened. "Shift? Bakit? Sa anong course ka magshi-shift? Magko-computer engineering ka na lang din ba?"

I shrugged. "I was thinking maybe Criminology so I could be a real cop, kaso naiisip ko pa lang na may ROTC at exercise ang Crim, parang ayoko na. Then I thought, what if Political Science dahil Polsci si Joyeuse, then I remembered that he's planning to be a lawyer, not a detective. Then I thought, what if Psychology? Then I remembered I'm scared of uhm," I cleared my throat, "yeah, that. Whatever."

"To be honest gusto ko ring mag-shift." Mistletoe sighed and leaned on the table.

"Oh? ComEng's not treating you well?"

He frowned at me. "Sincere na tanong ba 'yan? Bakit lahat ng lumalabas sa bibig mo tunog sarcastic?"

"Years of practice, my dude." I chuckled. "But seriously? Gusto mong mag-shift? Alam na ba ng mga magulang mong prime minister ng Korea?"

"Ed. Ang layo ng mga Brown sa Korea."

I squinted my eyes at him. "Kapag sincere ako, tingin mo sarcastic. Kapag sarcastic ako, sineseryoso mo. I don't think my tone's the problem here, Noir Brown."

His frown turned into a scowl. Para talagang laging may pasan na daigdig ang Mistletoe na 'to. "Hindi ko pa sinasabi sa kanila. Ako na nga kulelat sa 'ming magkakapatid, sasabihin ko pang gusto kong mag-shift? Anong sasabihin nila?"

I took a guess. "Uhh, that's... good? If you're not happy then go take a course that you want?"

Mistletoe shook his head miserably. "Nah... pero sinabi sa 'kin ni Zwei 'yan."

"Kung magshi-shift ka naman, anong course? Akala ko gusto mong maging computer engineer dahil magaling kang mag-develop at mag-design ng technology."

"Naintindihan ko lang naman 'yong mga tinuturo dahil lagi mo akong binibitbit at inaalila. At kung tutuusin mas naiintindihan kita kaysa mga professor ko."

"Of course, I'm a fun guy," I mumbled, figuring out how I'd eat a crab's claw.

"Pero... mas gusto ko talagang maging doctor kaysa engineer."

"That's understandable, magaling ka sa mga lason. Sa 'yo ko nga nalaman 'yong Dendrobatidae na pinangsupalpal ko kay drama queen no'ng unang pagkikita namin. Kung gusto mong mag-doktor, then—wait, bakit ka magdo-doktor kung puro lason ang alam mo? Hindi ba kabaligtaran 'yan ng pagiging doctor? Anong klaseng doctor, Mist?"

"Hindi ko pa rin alam."

"Bilisan mong magdesisyon dahil matagal-tagal ang medicine."

Mistletoe didn't reply so my ears picked up the voices coming from our surroundings. Then I heard this distinct Italian voice coming from my right.

"Che bello, che bello! Your child does-a look like Robert De Niro!"

"She's 6."

"Mi scusi, are you-a saying that she can't look like-a Robert De Niro?"

I turned and grabbed Mistletoe's arm. "That Italian," I hissed at him, scanning the hall for the Italian. "I'm pretty sure that's the Italian from Wonderland Org."

"Wonderland ano?"

"Hold my shrimp. I need to know why he's here."

"Ed! 'Wag kang basta-basta makipag-usap sa kanila baka-"

I figured Mistletoe won't shut up so I pulled him with me and we joined the crowd where the Italian was. He was probably internally screaming.

The Italian wore a white Victorian ruffled dress shirt with a red cummerbund. Feeling n'ya yata ay isa s'yang Disney prince. Or a vampire. Or a pirate, I don't know. His long blond hair was tied up by a red ribbon.

"Ah yes, Robert De Niro," I said, trying to be assertive to fit in the conversation of these grown ups. "I'm a fan too."

"I thought you're too young to be a fan of his," said one sophisticated-looking old guy with a Van Dyke beard and gold framed glasses. "Which of his films have you seen?"

"The Godfather," I replied, tapping into my Midterm Project. Hopefully nobody noticed that the left lens was lighting up. "The Godfather II, The Irishman... what else haven't I seen?"

They were silent. Was it a stunned silence or did I graciously fuck up?

The Italian laughed and Mistletoe tugged my polo from behind. 'Wag kang kabahan, Mist, I can charm my way in. I have months of practise seeing Joyeuse flirt with pretty ladies. I'm pretty sure I can charm these... old people.

Kidding, I don't know how to converse like a proper human person so I used my Midterm Project's face detection, got their names, and searched for these losers' Twitter accounts to see what their interests are.

One's interested with Victorian era calligraphy. I could use that.

"I see you're wearing a ruffled gothic shirt? No, Victorian?" I waved my hand at the Italian's direction, careful not to make eye contact. I'm wearing glasses, maybe he won't recognise me. "And speaking of Victorian, Mist, I really wish you sent out invitations with your family seal. That would be awesome, right?"

"That's what I've been saying," the target loser said. The fish has eaten the bait. "I wrote a letter of RSVP to the Browns but she never sent it."

Another woman, presumably Mrs. Loser, interjected, "We're computer engineers, we live in the digital age. I assure you, nobody uses letters anymore."

"I like letters," I lied with a proud grin. "It's the most aesthetic way to raise a finger to the wonders of modern technology."

"What is your favourite envelope size to send important letters?" Mr. Loser asked.

Na-mental block ako. I awkwardly spat out, "Uhh... four...?"

"Excuse me," said the lady with the daughter that the Italian said looked like Mr. De Niro. "Are you," she gestured at the general direction of the crowd, "hmm? One of them too?"

"One of the bourgeoisie?" I faked laughter. "No, madam, I'm just a fine young man with a taste."

"Gusto mong iluwa kanina sa kamay ni Macey 'yong Cornichon," Mistletoe whispered behind me.

"Don't embarrass me." I hit his hand.

We caught the Italian's attention and the latter stepped closer to us. Mistletoe tried hiding behind me but it's no use because. I. Am. Fucking. Short. Mistletoe's taller than me, why's he hiding behind me?!

Respeto, Mist!

"Mio grazioso Dio," the Italian said with a sly smile on his face. "Who do we have here?"

I swear if he called me Dave I'm going to throw shrimp at his face then run. If the shrimps didn't work I'll throw Mistletoe.

He reached out his wine flute and with his other hand on his chest like a dramatic diva, he continued, "You're the boy from the-a articles!"

"Young man," I coughed as a correction.

"The boy-a who turned their school theatre into-a a holographic cinema!"

The crowd wow'd and nodded their heads. They've heard of me. Well, shit.

The Italian put his hand on my shoulder and added in a whisper, "Hello, Dave."

My mind said, THROW SHRIMP! But my body said, You know... what if we just... freeze?

"I wonder why-a you're he—" The Italian stopped. He noticed Mistletoe behind me and he just went blank for a second, before a smirk ran across his face and he told the other grown-ups, shooing them, "Show's up, I-a hate all your shoes and your dress anyway, ciao, ciao!"

The crowd dispersed, laughing and swatting at the Italian's direction. I grimaced.

"They think I'm-a joking but I mean it." The Italian crossed his arms and bit his lip, studying us (or maybe he's just studying Mistletoe and I stood in the way).

"Why are you here?" I asked, bravely. "I don't think you have any business here."

"Sino ba 'yan, Ed?" Mistletoe murmured behind me.

"He's a bad guy. He throws knives."

The Italian, of course, heard us. "Ah, don't paint me in-a such a bad light-a in front this bello." He smiled and leant closer to Mistletoe, swirling his wine glass just inches away from Mistletoe's face.

My brain said, THROW MISTLETOE.

But I held that thought.

"Ciao, mi amore," he tapped Mistletoe's lips with the tip of his wine glass, "my name is Ces Parisi e farei qualsiasi cosa per te."

Kinilabutan ako at si Mistletoe naman ay kitang-kita na nandiri. "A-Anong sabi n'ya, Ed?" bulong sa 'kin ni Mist.

"Para sa mental health mo, hindi ko na ita-translate," bulong ko pabalik.

"Good call, thanks."

"I'm-a here because I have to protect someone," the Italian called "Ces" continued. "But I-a don't mind giving my life to you for aesthetic reasons." He ran his fingers along Mistletoe's hair, so we took step backwards. He followed us, until we started going in circles.

"Wait," I said, squeezing Mistletoe behind me, "you said you're here to protect someone. Who is it?"

"I'm-a here to protect your dignity but I failed-a, seeing the state of your hair." Ces shook his head and I fought the urge to comb my hair. Gago ka, inaano ka ng buhok ko?

He leaned even closer, picking a crumb of whatever from my shirt and flicking it away. "Shameful," he whispered.

"Mist, palayasin mo na nga 'to," I said.

"Tayo na lang ang lumayas," Mistletoe replied.

"Hinayupak ka, bahay n'yo 'to!"

"Anong gagawin natin e mapanglait?!"

"Aww, amore mio." Ces smiled ang clutched his chest with both hands. "I-a don't understand anything but I-a feel like you're standing up for me."

We stared at him.

"Gago hindi nakakaintindi ng Tagalog," I told Mistletoe. "Kapag kinausap mo s'ya habang nakangiti pwede mo na s'yang ibenta."

Mistletoe smiled. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. Sino naman ang bibili sa kanya?"

Ces Parisi quirked an eyebrow then stuck a finger in his ear. He has a listening device! Somebody's listening to our conversation the whole time!

"I see," he told the person on the other line. Then he grinned at us and took out a knife from his cummerbund and spun it around his fingers. "I'd love to-a chat with you, mio amici bello, but I finally have a legitimate reason to stab someone in this party so ciao!"

He downed his wine and tossed the glass to Mistletoe, who caught it with a stifled scream. Then he happily skipped away from the party, to the Browns' backyard.

I gave my plate to Mistletoe and got ready to run, but the bastard grabbed my arm. "Ed! Susundan mo ba s'ya?!" he gasped.

"Hindi! Parang tinatawag ako ng mga kaibigan kong diwata kaya pupunta ako sa garden n'yo para makipaglaro!" I snatched my arm back and ran, following Ces. I ignored Mistletoe. I don't think he has the guts to follow us.

He'd even probably report everything to Zweihänder, instead of his own parents or the police.

Nakarating ako sa gitna ng maliit na kagubatan ng mga Brown, at saka ko lang na-realise ang katangahan ko. Madilim. Nawala si Ces. May naririnig akong asong umaalulong sa 'di kalayuan.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, amico!"

That's Ces's voice. Palayo nang palayo ang yabag ng lakad n'ya kaya tahimik ko s'yang sinundan. Madali lang s'yang sundan dahil pagkatapos n'yang magtawag, kumanta naman s'ya ng soundtracks ng Disney's Snow White.

Sinundan ko s'ya hanggang sa napadpad kami sa isang hiwalay at mas maliit na bahay ng mga Brown. Mukhang walang nakatira sa loob, pero may lamppost sa labas.

Tumayo si Ces sa harap ng bahay at ako naman ay nagtago sa likod ng isang malaking puno at ng mga matataas na halaman. Pinanood ko s'yang makipag-usap sa hangin.

"I-a know you're here too," he called. Using my Midterm Project, I zoomed in on his hands and saw that he's holding at least three small knives each. "Why don't you come out and gaze upon this?" He opened his arms.

Then somebody in a hidden location threw a knife at him. Ces instinctively caught the knife's trajectory and dodged in reflex. Then he threw a knife at the roof's gutter. It got stuck there, it was so cool.

I mean, oh no.

"Ay, not aesthetic at all." Ces shook his head and tutted, as if disappointed with his unseen opponent. "My men has the-a mansion surrounded, amico. You're alone!"

I don't think you're supposed to say that, hermano.

Another knife came flying. This time it landed on my tree so I jumped away and stupidly revealed myself to the enemy. Ces was delighted to see me.

"Dave Casedale Drew! You came to see me fight! I've-a got a cheerleader!"

I turned around. "Nope, actually, I'm going back, nakalimutan kong may kinakain pa nga pala —"

Ces grabbed me by the hair and pressed a knife against my neck. "You're lucky the Hatter asked me to-a leave you alone."

"Y-Yeah, I have a lucky charm from my Sir Dad." I raised both of my hands. "Can I go now and eat my shrimp?"

"Otherwise I would've had your hair cut and styled!" He sounded really disgusted with my hair, I felt deeply offended. "And don't wear dark on dark!"

"STOP JUDGING MY APPEARANCE!"

Ces was about to raise his arm (and probably give me a haircut) when somebody kicked him from behind. He sprawled ungracefully on the ground while I was tugged away from him.

"Leave," ordered the person who saved me—Laevateinn. I didn't have the time to blurt out my surprise because Laevateinn started attacking Ces.

Anong ginagawa rito ni Lae at bakit n'ya inaatake si Ces? Bakit inaasahan s'ya ni Ces?! Bakit sila nagbabatuhan ng kutsilyo?!

"Finally! A real fight!" Ces cheered.

The two fought with their knives, slashing, kicking, and seizing each other until Laevateinn disarmed and pinned Ces down on the ground, holding a knife against the latter's neck.

"You have beautiful eyes," Ces said, maybe to distract Laevateinn or maybe he just really meant it. I mean, taklesa s'ya kaya hindi s'ya magdadalawang-isip na pansinin ang mata ni Lae. Nakailang pansin nga sa buhok at damit ko.

"Retreat," Laevateinn hissed at him.

Ces kicked in the air and I thought it was nothing but a sad attempt to escape, but it was to thrust a hidden blade out of his shoe.

"LAE! COLTELLO NELLA SCARPA!"

SHIT. I panicked and spoke in Italian. Laevateinn's German, Edward Dace you dummkopf!

"I mean blade in knife! No! Shoe knife, Lae, shoe knife!"

Truly a master of linguistics, Edward Dace!

I'm thanking all the gods of every religion for Laevateinn has understood me completely before Ces could do anything with the fucking shoe knife. Laevateinn kicked Ces in the gut and slashed his thigh with his knife.

Ces shrieked in a combination of pain and laughter. Laevateinn wasn't done, though. I felt like he had intentions to stab the Italian to death. He flipped his knife in the air and caught it, swinging it down to—

"Lae, 'wag!" I yelled.

Laevateinn halted before his knife touched Ces's neck. Was he seriously going to kill Ces? He wasn't even fazed that he's cut somebody!

Was he... Is he actually the dear friend who killed my father...? Don't lives matter to him?

Fenrir appeared from the trees and ran to Laevateinn's side, barking and growling, as if reporting. And whatever his report was, it wasn't good. Laevateinn leapt away from Ces, grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me with him, back to the mansion.

I felt really awkward and nervous so I decided to make small talk while we ran. "I'm glad you understood my warning, I mean, it was in Italian so I was worried that—"

"I know Italian, don't sweat it." Laevateinn didn't even glance at me. Where did our friendship go?

Are you involved with the ambush that killed my father?

Nakakarinig ako ng sirena ng ambulansya. O baka tumawag si Mist ng pulis? Pero magkaiba ang sirena ng pulis at ng ambulansya at sigurado akong ambulansya ang naririnig ko.

Ang sabi ni Ces ay napapalibutan ng mga tauhan n'ya ang mansion, pero bakit?

"Lae, bakit mo inatake 'yong Italiano?" I asked again.

"He cut me."

Ah, noong hinabol kami ng Wonderland Org. So gumaganti lang pala si Lae. Pero bakit alam ni Ces na nandon s'ya? Inimbitahan ba n'ya si Ces? Lae, ano na? Paki-orient naman ako, dude. Ang tagal nating hindi nagkita tapos ganito ang bati mo sa 'kin.

Maraming tao ang nakaharang sa entrance sa mansyon. Pinagsiksikan ko pa ang sarili ko para maki-usiyoso, habang si Lae ay tumayo lang sa likuran, malayo sa mga tao.

Nakalupasay sa marmol na sahig si Mrs. Loser—I'm sorry, I mean, Mrs. Stevenson. Nakalupasay sa sahig si Mrs. Stevenson. She's blue and she looked really sweaty. Her husband, Mr. Lo—Stevenson, wailed beside her. Some of the paramedics from the ambulance were preparing a stretcher, while some of them were talking to Mr. Stevenson and other guests.

Oh my God Mrs. Stevenson's dead.

Did she have a heart attack? Cardiac arrest?

But why is she blue? Parang ang bilis naman n'yang maging blue? Hindi ba dapat ay magiging bloated muna ang katawan ng namatay na tao? At saka kung kakabagsak lang n'ya, dapat fresh pa ang katawan n'ya at hindi ganito.

"Look, she's not turning horrifically blue."

Joyeuse's words when Futhark said that the librarian from our first case could be killed by... putangina nakalimutan ko kung ano 'yong binanggit na lason.

Nasaan na si Mist? He probably knows what poison was used. Kung alam namin kung anong lason ang ginamit, mabilis naming malalaman kung paano s'ya nalason at kung sino ang lumason sa kanya.

"Baka na-food poison?"

"Someone killed her, for sure."

"I heard she's connected to the Mafia."

"Someone probably assassinated her."

"Hindi raw nakabayad ng utang."

I tapped my Midterm Project to record everything around me. Nalulunod lang ako sa usapan nila, hindi ko naman maaalala lahat 'yon. I stretched my neck and tiptoed to see if Laevateinn's still behind us. He wasn't there anymore. Sino na lang ang magsisilbi naming CCTV?

Nakalimutan ko pang sabihin na pinapauwi s'ya ni Njal bago mag-agahan.

I took my phone out and started taking pictures. An old lady slapped the back of my head and said, "Respeto!"

"I'm sorry!" I moved away from them and took photos with my Midterm Project instead. Hindi ito kasing ganda ng camera quality ng phone ko pero mas okay na 'to kaysa wala.

Tapos may hinayupak naman na humila sa braso ko. Kung batuk-batukan ako ng mga tao rito, kung makahila sa 'kin, kung maka-bitbit sa 'kin, akala mo punching bag ako.

"Ed, 'wag kang lalapit do'n!" Hinila pa ako palayo ni Mist, hanggang sa nasa labas na ulit kami.

"Bakit, anong meron?"

"Tingin ko nilason si Ma'am Stevenson. Tingin ko nilason s'ya gamit ang Ricin, at tingin ko nilason s'ya ng asawa n'ya."

"Damn, we should investigate this."

"No!" Mistletoe shook my shoulders. "Sabihin natin kay Zwei para—"

"No!" I shook his shoulders, much harder. "Kapag dinamay mo si Zwei baka mapahamak pa s'ya."

"Anong gagawin natin?!"

Kapag tumawag kami ng pulis baka itago lang nila ang ebidensya dahil base sa mga narinig ko, parang konektado sa sindikato si Mr. at Mrs. Stevenson. Kapag nangyari 'yon ay hindi na namin mapapatunayan kung sino ang tunay na pumatay at hindi na namin malalaman ang katotohanan...

Hindi pwedeng hindi namin malaman ang katotohanan.

"Tara, Mist, hanapin natin sila Zwei. Kailangan nating maimbestigahan kung anong totoong nangyari."

Sender: Unregistered Number

Receiver: Heimdall

Sir Lance, narinig ko pong sinabi ni Nicholas kay Alice na baka lumipat kami ng bahay. Kailan ko po pwede makita si Edward? Baka makahalata po si Nicholas.

Message sent.

•••

Ciao, HeadphonesAndLuck here!

Our fanart for today is... taduh!

This awesome Edward fanart drawn by @Screams_Internally! I'm just in love with the colours and the technique and how they captured Edward's smug face! Bunch of thank you, La!

Next update would be on February!