I Wish You Were Never Reborn

So late at night, the humans had emigrated to the safety of their homes. Three different single-story houses had lights still lit. Raucous music emanated from one. No pedestrians. It was neither the time nor type of neighbourhood that welcomed such.

Tyvan Valorum inspected the integrity of the Sealing Formation as Bishop worked. He sat cross-legged on the sidewalk, channeling his mana into the input runes. Briar Rose stood a short distance away, crossing her arms and observing the surrounding area.

There was a broken loop in the second quadrant, but the full array remained functional. The core formation module was designed for multi-layered buildings rather than suburban flats, so there were more than enough redundancies to alleviate variabilities.

Bishop sat up, breathing heavily. He brushed aside his blue hair and wiped the sweat off his brow before readjusting his dark glasses.

“Whew! This is fun! I feel like we’ve been doing a buncha secret spy stuff, recently!”

“Tying up loose ends, so to speak, is part of our occupation,” Tyvan smiled.

“Are you smiling, Boss?” Bishop asked, “We did a good job, right?”

“He’s not smiling,” his sister remarked. “The corner of his mouth went up just a little bit-- that doesn’t count.”

Tyvan narrowed his eyes. He was smiling. Still, to prove to Briar Rose that he could smile like an archetypical human, he bared his teeth and forced an upward curve on the corner of his lips.

However, the result was Briar Rose snapping to military attention and exuding a thick miasma of concern. Bishop stood up to his full height not a second after.

“S-sorry, Boss!” said the first.

“Are we in trouble? What’d we do?” said the other, pouting miserably.

Tyvan wiped his smile off his face before waving them away, “Wait in the car. Remain vigilant.”

“Right away, Boss!” “I call driver’s seat!” “Only if you want my fist down your throat, stupid!”

Briar Rose latched onto the back of her brother’s vest as they raced back to the car.

Despite their bickering, they had a good relationship. They strived to keep each other safe-- especially after everything they’d been through together.

Tyvan’s thoughts drifted back to Yan Xue. She, too, was reasonably safe. According to Briar Rose, she had not returned to her previous residence-- the house owned by her matrilineal aunt.

There were two other places Yan Xue could have found sanctuary: with her father or... with her distantly related grandfather.

The Song Estate.

The organisation that had been flaunting the rules of Archangel was-- had been targeting the Song Estate for at least the past two months.

So to ensure they were as vexed as possible, Tyvan made certain that the estate was protected.

If Yan Xue was taking refuge there, all the better.

Tyvan vaulted over the half-height wire fence, crossing over the barrier of his Sealing Formation. The mana washed over his body, prickling his skin. It also left an odd, tingling sensation in his teeth.

In the heart of Koreatown, located in a single studio flat, he and Bishop had tracked a potential source of the Arrow Group’s arrogance. Removing it would further vitiate their agenda. That it would also protect a certain person was a mere coincidence.

He sighed as he crouched down in front of a garden plot.

Why was he so concerned for that girl’s wellbeing?

Esha had died. Yet for her, he felt...

Hm.

She was an outsider, unapprised to any and all matters of the Kingdom. She was an arbitrary casualty and her death held no sway over his conscience.

Regular humans had an abysmally finite lifespan. Her death was an inevitability.

The same should have been true of Shay...

So why was he expending so much time and so many resources on her behalf?

No...

It was the right thing to do. The faux-vampires acting against the Song family were a potential threat to the peace of Archangel.

Tyvan removed a series of folded papers from his coat pocket, sketches Heidi had graciously provided. He compared them to the plants growing in the yard.

He was in the right place. Three of the herbs used to conjure the Arrow Group’s pills were being grown in plain sight.

He strode across the yard toward the flat’s entrance. From inside, a dog began to bark. However, he was confident both in the muting effect of the Sealing Formation and the vigilance of the Latorre siblings.

He knocked on the door.

Slow ponderous footsteps along creaking floorboards.

The door opened, revealing an aged gentleman in a yellowed singlet, his back hunched over and his face marred with hard lines. He stepped aside and gestured for Tyvan to enter.

Interesting. He exuded the aura of a retired warrior. He had a martial build, but his muscles had grown thin and his infirmities were clear. His spirit seemed... weighed down.

The room stank of old sweat and the bittersweet decay of age, the corners splashed with mold, and no less than six black trash bags strewn on the floor.

No traps. But he surmised that the condition of his living arrangements was generally detrimental to one’s health.

--ah, the dog. Barely longer than Tyvan’s forearm, the dog continued to yap and piss itself. He sent it scampering away with a glare.

The old man directed Tyvan to sit on a dilapidated couch... and he walked to the armchair opposite with a tottering gait.

Tyvan considered asking for tea, but... besides sanitation concerns, he wanted to avoid tarrying longer than necessary.

“I presume you are Mister Fen, family name Xun, correct?”

“Are you Chinese?” the old man asked.

“I am not,” Tyvan said simply.

Xun sighed but nodded his head. He stared down, focusing on Tyvan’s gloved hands.

“You’ve come to kill me... Did the Song family send you?”

“It seems you have good ears, Mister Xun,” Tyvan smiled politely. “But I must correct you. I was not sent by the Songs.”

Xun’s eyes grew wide, and he folded his hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Then... you’ve come on behalf of the Zhang family.”

Tyvan continued to smile. Silence was his ally. It was in his best interests that Xun believed he was betrayed.

“So the Zhang family has hired a formation master as well... All the old monsters capable of the formation outside-- to think one of them had left the mainland”

Tyvan was heartened to hear that his skills were comparable to the older generation. Yet, it was ever-disappointing to confirm that he lacked peers who operated at a level he considered slightly better than average.

“Mister Xun, did you believe you were the only expert hired by the Zhang family?”

“Hired?” the older gentleman scoffed, “I was blackmailed, brat.”

He gestured to a sheathed sword sitting on the mantle of a decorational fireplace. “And there’s the proof. The Zhang patriarch, Jinyan Zhang, told me himself... if I didn’t work with him, my entire family would be put to death by that jian.”

...Fair enough.

“In that case,” Tyvan said, “I’d like to amend my statement.”

“Pah,” Xun spat. “Your words are wasted on this old dog.”

Tyvan nodded quietly. The old man had already accepted his fate.

“Are your accounts in order, Mister Xun?”

“And what if they are, assassin?” Xun glared. “I doubt you’d let my family find any trace of me, much less receive my will.”

“Hand them over to me. On my honor, I shall deliver your final messages.”

The old man leaned forward, his back seeming to hunch even further, “Hah? Honor? What does the younger generation know of honor?”

Tyvan frowned, “For clarification: my honor is good for up to five business days. If I can’t find your family before then, my other duties will take precedence.”

“That’s not what I meant, boy,” Xun scowled. “Why would an assassin sent by the Zhang family offer to do something for nothing?”

His eyes suddenly widened, “An act of rebellion, is it? Your heritage... Those racist bastards. Of course, the Zhang family wouldn’t bring a non-Chinese into their inner circle.”

Tyvan nodded quietly. Yet another assumption was made that he had no desire to rectify.

The old man had convinced himself to consent to his role. He stood up and rooted through his belongings, retrieving a missive and a box that rattled when he placed it on the table.

“This... is for my son. The letter is a warning. And... this box of cassette tapes contains my entire life’s worth of alchemy knowledge.”

Tyvan raised an eyebrow, “All of your knowledge?”

“All but that damned Chi Burst Pill,” Xun groaned, “that dies with me.”

Tyvan briefly examined the items for any foul play, then stowed the missive safely away in his coat.

“...Aren’t you going to read it?” Xun asked, “What if I’m secretly instructing my son to take revenge?”

“That is neither my business nor my problem,” Tyvan replied.

Xun nodded warily, “I see... You have a strange sense of honor, young man. But I suppose you have my gratitude.”

He stood up from his seat. He straightened his back the best he was able. And... he closed his eyes.

“I’m ready.”

“Excellent.”

Tyvan removed a different envelope from his pocket, revealing its contents.

Xun carefully took the paper ticket, reading it with a confused expression.

“A plane ticket?”

“We’re moving you out of Archangel tonight,” Tyvan said. “Do not return. Do not contact your family. If this comes back to me, I will personally carry out the Zhang family’s threats. Do you understand, Mister Xun?”

The bewildered older gentleman, mouth agape, slowly nodded his head.

“The covenant has been formed,” Tyvan said. He stood and shook Xun Fen’s hand, “Let us away. We’ll discuss the details on the way to the airport.”