Lord of Mysteries:The Good Witch

Angel stared blankly at the open space below.

The battlefield, which had been chaotic but relatively clear moments ago, was now in complete disarray.

Ray Bieber, standing over two meters tall and weighing an estimated 300 kilograms, had exploded after Lolotta extracted the Antigonus notebook from him. His twisted flesh was even more thoroughly shattered than the "Dockworker" he had torn apart. Countless chunks of flesh, internal organs, and viscous fluids swept across the scene with a surging shockwave, engulfing everyone present.

The tuxedo-clad clown, who had attempted to snatch the notebook, faced the explosion head-on and was instantly blown away. However, what crashed into the warehouse wall after arcing through the air was a burning paper figure. Beneath the flames, the clown had vanished without a trace.

The other Nighthawks didn't fare much better.

Dunn, who had been close by trying to control Ray Bieber, was thrown several meters by the shockwave. His head struck a nearby wooden crate, and after a brief convulsion, he lay motionless.

Lolotta and Borgia were in the same direction and landed in the same spot. Lolotta, already severely injured from Ray Bieber's silent roar, had forcibly used his ability to find the monster's weakness and retrieve the Antigonus notebook. Now, after being thrown and slammed again, he showed no signs of movement. Borgia was slightly better off, lying next to Lolotta, groaning and moving his arm, unconsciously feeling for something in his pocket.

Leonard was in the worst condition. He had attempted to control Ray Bieber using the Midnight Poet's ability but was injured by the roar, bleeding from his mouth and nose. Now, after being blasted to a corner of the open space by the shockwave, fresh blood stains surrounded him.

Klein, being furthest from the explosion's center, seemed to have suffered the least damage. He was already getting up from the ground, shaking his head in an attempt to stay conscious.

Quickly assessing the situation, Angel jumped down from the rooftop, using the assassin's "Lightness" to land gently. She prepared to help Leonard first, as he appeared to be the most severely injured.

She hadn't forgotten about the escaped tuxedo-clad clown, but this wild non-official who excelled in escape techniques should also be injured now and unlikely to immediately attempt to steal the Antigonus notebook.

Right, the notebook...

Her gaze swept across the ground littered with shattered flesh and organs, finding the ancient and mysterious-looking notebook, covered in Ray Bieber's bodily fluids, lying quietly next to a mangled arm that looked as if it had been gnawed by dogs.

Was it from the "Dockworker" or "Ray Bieber"?

Suppressing the urge to vomit that welled up inside her, Angel turned her gaze towards Klein, who still stood to the side, seemingly stunned. She said, "Klein, protect the notebook. I'll check on Leonard. He..."

Klein, his coat covered in dust and his top hat in tatters, stood motionless, his eyes vacant, his feet twisted in an odd posture as if he had been frozen mid-tap dance.

Could it be...

She noticed the iron box containing Sealed Artifact 2-049, the Antigonus puppet, lying at Klein's feet, less than a meter away. Possibly due to Dunn's earlier shooting and Ray Bieber's final explosion, the box had cracked open, revealing the puppet's small hand wrapped in brownish bandages gripping the crack. It seemed as if a pair of eyes from within were peering out at the world.

Had Klein been controlled by 2-049? For how long?

Angel bit her lip in frustration. Earlier, when looking down from above, she had mistakenly thought Klein was dazed from the explosion's shockwave. She hadn't realized this unfortunate man had entered the five-meter effective range of 2-049 when it was blasted near him, falling under its negative effects.

The only question now was, could she still save him in time?

Abandoning her plan to help the severely injured Leonard, Angel walked directly towards the completely immobilized Klein, stopping about six meters from 2-049 and five meters from Klein.

She remembered how Sealed Artifact 2-049 had changed after sensing the presence of an Antigonus family descendant at Ray Bieber's home. Now, surrounded by Ray Bieber's "presence" everywhere, 2-049 was undoubtedly still in an agitated state, meaning it could control two targets simultaneously.

Although eager to save Klein, sacrificing herself would be meaningless. She was currently the only one with the ability to act. If she rashly entered the artifact's effective range, she might become the second victim before even managing to save Klein. The only plan now was to find a stick longer than 2-049's range of influence to poke Klein's body and wake him up.

No, there was someone else besides her on the scene... the tuxedo-clad clown...

As this thought occurred to her, she seemed to hear faint, slow footsteps.

But apart from herself standing and the rigid Klein, there was no third person standing around.

It seemed the tuxedo-clad clown had used his ability to conceal his presence again. Was he planning to kill her? Or target Klein, who stood like a living target?

Angel held her gun in one hand, her mind racing as her gaze swept towards the direction of the footsteps.

The notebook, the Antigonus family notebook!

Her eyes were drawn to the notebook on the ground, which Lolotta had extracted from inside Ray Bieber. The tuxedo-clad clown's seemingly aimless provocations and interference with the Nighthawks' battle had always been aimed at this notebook.

Now she regretted not staying up late to make a few "Phantasm Phosphorus Eruption" bullets. If she had brought these special bullets for dealing with invisible enemies, she wouldn't be in such a passive situation.

Unfortunately, regret was useless now. She could only fire two bursts in the general direction of the footsteps and the notebook's line, based on her intuition.

"Bang! Bang!"

As expected, this blind shooting had no chance of hitting the target, but these two shots successfully made the invisible clown stop in his tracks. Angel seized this moment to dash towards the Antigonus notebook, grabbing it without regard for the disgusting red and yellow mucus on its cover.

Less than five meters in front of her, the air seemed to distort as if heated, like an invisible curtain being lifted, revealing the thin figure of the tuxedo-clad clown.

Calling him a tuxedo-clad clown was no longer apt. He looked like a beggar who had found discarded formal wear. His black suit, once fit for a high-class evening party, was now torn to shreds from the earlier explosion. One sleeve was missing, revealing the white shirt underneath, which was speckled with blood. His silk top hat was nowhere to be seen, and the clown makeup on his face was now mixed with blood. His face was contorted with anger, his eyes, emphasized by red makeup, fixed on Angel.

Snap!

The clown snapped his fingers, creating an invisible bullet that shot towards her at a speed no less than that of a real bullet.

Having already witnessed his abilities, Angel was prepared. She rolled on the ground to avoid the "air bullet" attack, then raised her gun to return fire.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

One shot after another, Angel now understood the frustration of the Nighthawks who had fought the clown earlier. Even at a distance of less than ten meters, the clown could twist his body or jump to change direction, perfectly avoiding the bullets aimed at him.

Was it his reaction speed? Or a special ability granted by a potion?

Fortunately, the threat of the gun kept the clown from pursuing further. He circled around the effective range of 2-049, moving away from Angel in an arc.

Does he know about the artifact's effect?

Angel watched the clown's movement path with confusion, moving from her original position the instant the clown snapped his fingers to return fire with invisible bullets, avoiding a fatal hit.

"Click!"

The trigger clicked empty. Angel, having exhausted her ammunition without injuring the agile clown, couldn't reload with one hand holding the notebook. She could only drop the empty gun and draw her backup pistol from under her arm. But this delay allowed the clown to circle around the range of 2-049's influence to Klein's back.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," no longer silent now that he had cover, the clown spoke his first words of the day: "Stop these meaningless actions. Don't you want to quickly save your companion? In another two or three minutes, he'll never wake up again."

The two now stood in a straight line with the immobilized Klein at the center, surrounding the effective range of 2-049, more than ten meters apart. Angel tried to circle around Klein, but the clown was alert, immediately moving in sync to stay hidden behind Klein.

Like gunslingers in a duel, they stepped around Klein, constantly adjusting their positions, looking for an opportunity.

"My only task is that notebook. Throw it to me, and I'll leave immediately," the clown's slightly shrill voice carried on the wind. "You'll still have plenty of time to save him. This is unavoidable, and your superiors won't blame you."

"How can you guarantee you won't kill us after getting the notebook?" Angel asked slowly, feigning hesitation while continuing to move, trying to find an angle to shoot around Klein.

"I can't guarantee that, but I can guarantee something else. If you don't hand over the notebook immediately, I'll kill this fool first, then have a 'fair duel' with you."

The clown raised one hand above his head as if to adjust his hat, while snapping the fingers of his other hand. An invisible bullet created a shallow pit at Klein's feet. Unfortunately, the missing hat left him grasping at air, making his attempt at a cool gesture even more comical.

This won't work. From this position, I can only hit his hand at best, and with his alertness, it's almost impossible to land a hit...

Angel watched the clown's hands and feet occasionally protruding from behind Klein, attempting to fire several times but unable to find a good opportunity.

If only someone else could help...

"If you kill him, I'll immediately throw the notebook next to the box, and you'll never get your hands on it," Angel said, stalling the clown while scanning the surroundings with her peripheral vision. The injured Nighthawks were either unconscious or groaning, with no one able to provide immediate support.

Just then, she noticed that Klein's vacant eyes seemed to regain their focus, blinking once at her.

Can someone affected by 2-049 still blink?

As she pondered this, Klein twitched his mouth slightly, seemingly afraid the clown behind him would notice. The movement was very small, but the observant Angel still caught it.

Could he have already broken free from the negative effects?

Although she didn't know how Klein had managed it, this was undoubtedly the best way to break the stalemate.

"How about this: I'll throw the notebook at his feet first, you help me save him, then take the notebook and leave," Angel casually suggested to distract the clown and prevent him from noticing that Klein had awakened.

"Do you take me for a fool? If you dare do that, I'll immediately put a hole in his head."

The clown seemed angered. He raised his right hand, thumb and middle finger pinched together, poised to fire an invisible bullet.

Klein, with his back to the clown, blinked again, then rolled his eyes towards his feet.

He's signaling to use Sealed Artifact 2-049!

Angel understood and hesitated no longer. Her left hand, holding the notebook, flung the Antigonus notebook towards... 2-049 at Klein's feet.

At the same moment, Klein bent down and crouched, avoiding the invisible bullet the enraged clown had fired at him.

Snap!

"Bang!"

The sound of a finger snap and a revolver firing rang out simultaneously. Invisible and tangible bullets flew over Klein's head at the same time. The former grazed Angel's left shoulder as she dodged sideways, tearing through her coat and leaving a bloody gash. The latter pierced the clown's right chest, creating an ugly wound that went clean through.

This guy!

How did he wake up?

The clown's eyes widened in shock. Ignoring any further attacks on the two, he covered the wound on his chest with one hand, then wiped it towards his shoulder, erasing the fatal injury as if wiping away a stain. A bloody, mangled wound appeared on his shoulder instead.

His other hand pinched two fingers together, snapping them as if flames were about to erupt from between them.

Mission failed, now I can... only... escape...

His rapidly spinning thoughts suddenly became sluggish and slow. His joints felt as if they were filled with glue, impossible to move even slightly. In his vision, the flames that had leapt from between his fingers burned and disappeared, leaving only a wisp of black smoke.

It's... Anti... go...

His eyeballs, the only part of him still able to move, turned towards his feet. The iron box that had been several meters away was now beside him. Through the crack, a pair of pure black, pupilless eyes gazed at him.