Night quietly descended, enveloping the exquisite villa where Sefina lived alone.
On the desk, a solitary lamp cast a dim yet warm glow, illuminating her slightly weary but still focused profile.
She had just finished writing a reply to her dearest friend, Theresa, the tip of her pen still glistening with fresh ink.
As always, Theresa’s letters brimmed with warmth, concern, and encouragement, allowing her, amidst missions filled with deception and danger, to occasionally
draw a sliver of comfort.
Step.
Content.
Yet, relaxation was only fleeting. What lay before her was a mountain of paperwork and student assignments that seemed never-ending.
Sefina sighed helplessly, rubbing her slightly sore eyes.
Ah, why does being a teacher come with so much paperwork? Lesson plans, reports, academy notices…
And right now, more than a hundred assignments from her Elemental Magic class.
She was responsible for a lecture hall with a hundred students, so naturally the workload was just as great; the pressure of grading had reached the point where she had to take it home to work overtime.
And that wasn’t even counting the upcoming midterm exam—she’d have to rack her brains to design suitable test papers for this group of students, whose abilities varied so widely.
Sigh, so exhausting……Being a teacher really isn’t easy. She muttered softly, resigning herself as she picked up an assignment, ready to begin tonight’s
“hard labor”.
However, just as she was immersed in grading an analysis of Fireball spell mana circuits, a simple, old-fashioned black ring sitting at the corner of her desk suddenly, without warning, emitted a faint purple glow.
The light pulsed, waxing and waning as if breathing, making it especially conspicuous under the yellow lamp.
Sefina’s hand stilled. She glanced at the ring, a flash of understanding crossing her wine-red eyes.
Someone was initiating a conference in the consciousness space, most likely the Seventh Seat. It seemed that tonight’s assignments would remain unfinished.
Sefina set down her pen and let out a gentle sigh. The summons of the Organization took precedence over everything else, even the headache of student assignments.
Carefully, she picked up the ring, its cold touch sending a chill through her fingertips.
Then, she walked to the bed, lay down without undressing, closed her eyes, and tried her best to relax both body and mind.
Gradually, Sefina’s consciousness began to withdraw, as if sinking into warm, profound waters, the sense of reality fading away.
When she “opened” her eyes again, the scene before her had completely changed.
This was no longer the familiar ceiling of her bedroom, but a boundless, profound darkness.
There was no sense of up or down, only absolute void and silence.
Sefina’s “body” seemed to have become some kind of ethereal presence, floating in the darkness.
The only source of light came from ahead—a familiar, dark, circular table.
Sefina’s “consciousness form” drifted toward the table and “sat down” on the high-backed chair carved with the number “9”.
When she arrived, there was already a vague figure waiting at the table.
It was the Seventh Seat.
He sat there quietly, saying nothing, as if he had been waiting for some time.
However, this time, the meeting was not just between her and the Seventh Seat.
At the round table, another figure was slowly taking a seat.
Due to the nature of the consciousness space, Sefina could still only see a blurry outline, but it was clear that this figure was a size “broader” than herself, appearing more burly or bulky.
He finally sat steadily in the seat marked with the number “3”.
The Third Seat.
Sefina was not surprised by the Third Seat’s arrival.
Through the information Lisika had collected at the experimental base, she already knew that the mastermind behind all sorts of forbidden experiments within the Organization was this very Third Seat.
Now that the experimental base outside the Royal Capital had been destroyed by her own hand, it was only natural he would appear to inquire about the situation.
Looking at the indistinct figure, Sefina’s consciousness form, hidden beneath her vague outline, unconsciously clenched a “fist”.
The Seventh Seat spoke first, his voice coming through the distortions of space, deep and indistinct:
“Third Seat, what matter has brought you here personally?” He seemed somewhat surprised by the Third Seat’s presence as well.
The Third Seat’s voice sounded, raspy with the weight of years, like that of an old man. He explained lightly, his tone calm and unhurried,
yet carrying an invisible pressure:
“About five days ago, a major experimental base on the outskirts of Arian Royal Capital was completely destroyed. The scene was thoroughly cleaned up—no survivors left behind. I want to ask, are either of you aware of this? Or, do you have any relevant clues?”
The blurred outline of the Seventh Seat shifted slightly, as if in thought. After a moment, he replied:
“Five days ago…that was the very day Ninth Seat and I were assigned to eliminate the ‘failures’.”
“After the task, I was attacked by an unidentified individual, who used a…strange ranged weapon that had no magic fluctuations at all. My position was exposed, and I nearly got entangled by the patrol of Oselenka.”
The Seventh Seat truthfully recounted what he knew.
Then, he turned the question to Sefina:
“Ninth Seat, how did things go for you that night? Did that white-haired woman who interfered twice before appear again?”
Sefina was already prepared. Her consciousness form remained perfectly calm, and her distorted voice was utterly unflappable as she stated in a steady tone:
She did appear. I fought her briefly; her strength was considerable—at least Tier Six, especially skilled in ice magic. She paused for a moment, as if recalling:
“However, for some reason, she did not linger in battle. After a short clash, she suddenly withdrew, fleeing toward…the outskirts of the Royal Capital. I attempted to track her, but ultimately lost her trail.”
Her story was half true, half false. It explained “Holmes”’s appearance that night, subtly connected her departure with the base’s destruction, and left some ambiguity with the “lost trail.”
After Sefina’s account, both the Seventh and Third Seats fell into a brief silence. Candlelight flickered in the endless darkness, casting three vague, enigmatic shadows.
The clues seemed to point toward a mysterious “white-haired woman,” yet her identity and motives remained a puzzle.
The experimental base destroyed, the Seventh Seat attacked—all connected to this sudden, powerful figure. Together, these incidents seemed to suggest
an unknown force had already noticed 【Black Utopia】’s movements, and was now covertly opposing the Organization…
After several minutes of silence, the Third Seat’s blurred outline seemed to stir, that hoarse voice sounding once more, with a hint of subtle probing:
“Ninth Seat, the white-haired woman you saw—did she have ice-blue eyes? Was she about one meter seventy tall?”
Sefina’s heart tightened slightly, but her consciousness form betrayed no reaction.
The Seventh Seat also seemed surprised, and asked casually, “Oh? Third Seat, do you…suspect someone in particular?”
The table fell into silence again. The Third Seat seemed lost in some memory or calculation, his broad outline under the candlelight like a silent mountain.
A few seconds later, that hoarse voice slowly, clearly uttered four words, stirring invisible ripples in the quiet space of consciousness:
“Holmes.”
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