Chapter Forty: Reaching a Consensus

“To prove that I am Amy Ulysses?” The boy was somewhat surprised by the swordswoman’s question, but only for a moment—after a few breaths, he gathered himself, the astonishment fading from his face, and answered in a calm yet firm voice, “If my guess is correct, you are supposed to be my collaborator, Miss Swordswoman from the Order.”

He narrowed his eyes, hiding those ink-black irises, disregarding life and death alike.

“Forgive me for speaking frankly, but recklessly wielding your blade against a stranger is hardly wise. The Order abandoned control over the lower district many years ago. If your rashness leads to losing a guide familiar with the area and ultimately causes the failure to annihilate the artificial demons, I imagine… the Order won’t have the resources to dispatch another swordswoman anytime soon, and Mr. Franks would be greatly disappointed in you.”

“That’s not your concern.” The blonde, blue-eyed swordswoman’s voice was as cold as ever.

“Not my concern?” The young Glorified ignored the blade still pressed against his throat, laughing derisively. “If not even the nature of a teammate fighting alongside me is my concern, then what, pray tell, should I be concerned about?”

“Sharp-tongued.” The swordswoman’s patience was wearing thin.

“If you’re still so stubborn, then I must admit I’m not the one you’re waiting for.” Amy met her gaze without flinching. “After all… with a collaborator like this, death is inevitable sooner or later. Rather than being betrayed by a teammate, I’d rather abandon this hope now. It’s a pity, though… it seems the monsters of the lower district will be rampant a while longer.”

“You…” The girl frowned. “What do you mean?”

“To assert your authority, to establish leadership within the team, didn’t you just stage a splendid ambush?” The young Glorified spoke in an indifferent tone, as if an outsider, using his scarred arm to gently push aside the blade at his vital spot before rising to his feet. “Don’t bother with florid words. You should know better than anyone whether I am Amy Ulysses—who else in the lower district possesses this level of physical prowess and knows that artificial demons are your target?”

The swordswoman fell silent.

“Amy Ulysses is dead.” After several breaths, she spoke at last, her emerald eyes reflecting the boy’s figure. “I received the notice two days ago.”

“Is that so?” That explained a lot. Amy nodded, moving his aching body as if no one were watching. “Seems your information is outdated. Resurrection after death isn’t a miracle exclusive to your Order.”

“So—” The swordswoman sheathed her cross blade on her back, yet her frosty gaze still held a deep-seated distrust. “I must confirm the collaborator’s identity.”

“How do you want me to prove it?” The young Glorified asked with a bright smile, though his eyes were cold as ice. “To die here… once?”

“I don’t mind.” The swordswoman shook her head, her tone as chilly and steady as always. “I only want to know if you’re worthy of trust—worthy to have my back.”

“If it were a lifelong trust, I might have to consider it.” Having gauged the swordswoman’s temperament, the boy didn’t push her further, his tone softening. “But if it’s only to entrust my back, I think… there shouldn’t be a problem.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “I am trustworthy. If I weren’t, Mr. Franks wouldn’t have made you my collaborator, nor would he believe me, sending you to join me in searching for the Dark Guild’s forbidden secrets, seeking clues to artificial demons and half-demon experiments, and, within our power, to destroy this organization that defies the ‘Ten Commandments.’ Don’t you agree?”

“Indeed.” The girl lowered her guard slightly, though it was clear she still harbored significant suspicion. “Aside from that, proof.”

“Must I prove it?” The young Glorified spread his hands, with an easy air. “No, I don’t need to. I’m the only Glorified in the lower district. All the intelligence networks here have my portrait; neighbors know me. If even these were fabricated, then, aside from my true abilities, there’s no method for you to confirm I am Amy Ulysses.”

“But—” He changed tack, “Do you think I’d tell you my true abilities? Surely you know how vital it is to keep our abilities secret.”

“I know.” The swordswoman lowered her eyelids, silent for a while before raising her head again. “Two—mine are…”

“Enough!” Amy quickly stopped the swordswoman from revealing her abilities. “Such intimacy isn’t good for either of us.”

“Why?” For once, puzzlement flickered in her emerald eyes.

“Because…” The young Glorified searched for words, but finally decided to be honest. “My ability isn’t suited for public knowledge.”

“Stealth type.” The swordswoman nodded knowingly, her tone certain. After a brief silence, she spoke again, “Body reinforcement, boost—my abilities.”

Before the boy could respond, she explained further:

“Body reinforcement: passive ability, enhances physical attributes by one to two times.” A short pause. “Boost: freely manipulate wind pressure—constraint, manipulation, no upper limit.”

“A combination of reinforcement and energy manipulation…” Thanks to the swordswoman Blake, he knew a bit about the Order’s ability classifications. “No wonder I lost—though, is it alright? Sharing your abilities so freely.”

“If you’re trustworthy.” The girl bit her lower lip, betraying her inner turmoil.

“I suppose I mustn’t betray your trust, then.” Amy swung his arm, stretching, then reached out to the swordswoman, a gentle smile on his face. “Let’s start over. My name is Amy Ulysses, as you see—a Glorified.”

“Mia,” the swordswoman introduced herself succinctly, clasping the boy’s offered hand. “Swordswoman.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mia.” Due to their difference in gender, out of courtesy, the young Glorified merely gave a symbolic shake. “Much as I’d like to pretend nothing happened, well—” he gestured toward the half-collapsed house nearby, “with all this commotion, this isn’t the best place for conversation.”

“Sorry.” The swordswoman replied coldly.

“No need to worry, it’s just a trivial thing.” Amy waved it off, tactfully offering her a way out. After all, they were now comrades, fighting for the same cause; perhaps not life and death, but certainly bound by shared interests. “To maintain minimal secrecy, we must leave here at once. By the way, do you have anything left in the room? Gather your things and let’s go.”

“Wait a moment.” The girl replied calmly, “A few clothes.”

“If you don’t mind, I could help a bit.” As soon as he spoke, Amy noticed the girl’s cold, disdainful look and realized his mistake. He nodded, abashed. “Uh… sorry, my oversight. I’ll wait outside—please hurry.”

The young Glorified stopped in his tracks.

“Alright.”

With a quiet reply, the door closed behind her.

“She’s actually not that hard to get along with,” Amy sighed softly once he was sure the swordswoman had vanished from sight, gingerly touching his crisscrossing wounds, “except for a bit of impulsiveness.”

Of course, he didn’t idle away the moment. As a man, he had little to pack, but the extra time was just right to tend to his various wounds—though, thanks to the Glorified’s innate toughness, most were superficial, nothing serious. Still, given the coming infiltration of the Dark Guild and potential battles, preparation was prudent.

An organization with access to forbidden technology can mass-produce monsters via artificial demon techniques. One-on-one, they might not threaten him, but if they gather in numbers, he could easily be overwhelmed in a tide of ‘people’s war’—wait, what is ‘people’s war’? It sounded oddly unfamiliar.

Shaking his head, he pushed aside those questions he’d never answer. While treating his wounds, he pondered their next destination—thinking it over, he decided they must visit the Dice House. Even if it wasn’t ideal for conversation, it was a valuable intelligence point for tracking the Dark Guild’s movements.

As for preventing leaks…

He could only rely on Dick.

Given Dick’s status as an Apostle, he ought to have some influence at the Dice House, right?

Probably…

After all… he wasn’t exactly trustworthy, but there weren’t any better options now.

At this point, all he could do was gamble.

Clenching his fist, the young Glorified made his decision.