Chapitre 66: Justice?

Three hours later:

The elevator hummed softly, the small metallic cabin entrapping a young girl whose long platinum-blonde hair fell in cascading waves down her back. Almost nervously, she fiddled with a strand, letting it slide through her fingers as she lost herself in contemplation.

The cramped space made her more than uncomfortable, as it almost felt like a prison cell.

'Bring him to justice? What does that mean? Kill him? Torture him? Incriminate him?' The questions swirled in Tia's mind, tangled in uncertainty.

"Ding!"

The elevator's jarring halt ripped her from her ruminative state, the doors gliding open without making any sound.

'Here am I. Luckily with the internet, it is easy to locate someone's workplace.' Her highest priority was to fulfill her contract as soon as she could, prolonging her stay in the world, so her first stop after leaving the morgue was the office of the driver who killed the original owner of her new vessel.

The girl stepped out, her coat rustling silently with her sudden move.

She took in the lavish surroundings—a hallway bathed in warm, golden light, grandiose, with walls lined with polished wood panes and extending in both directions. The rich red carpet that adorned the floor muffled her footsteps, absorbing the sound. On either side stood imposing doors, crafted from dark, polished wood.

'Here, number twelve.' Her eyes locked with the widest doors, all the way at the end of the corridor. Without even a trace of fear, she stepped forward, walking down the opulent corridor, her shoes rustling on the expensive red carpet.

'Yup, those people are rich, but they at least have a sense of aesthetics.'

She stopped before the enormous door, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she felt something. Her fingers glided gently over the surface, the touch of the wood sending a tingle of energy through her skin.

'As I thought, they are enchanted. Is the target of my contract a mage? That is too big of a coincidence. However, it is definitely convenient.'

Tia knocked, the echo reverberating ominously through the desolate corridor. Silence greeted her, amplifying the pulsating rhythm of her heart in her ears. She knocked again, holding her breath, every fiber of her being poised to respond to a potential assault as she felt that something wasn't right.

'By the receptionist's words, he should be in the office.' She strained her ears for any signs of life beyond the imposing doors. Yet she didn't hear anything but oppressive silence, amplifying the sensation of wrongness.

Drawing back with cautious steps, she summoned an invisible force that gravitated towards the brass doorknob. It turned with a soundless clack, gradually yielding under the pressure, and the doors began to part.

Before they could fully open, a burst of red light erupted from within, painting the corridor in vivid hues. With a fast reaction, Tia launched backward and hurled herself across the corridor with the speed of a tiger. But almost as quickly as it appeared, the red tide of light vanished, dissipating in silence.

'I knew it; it was a boobytrap. But why? I thought mages should be more careful than leaving such traps in the corridor where any normal human could stumble onto them,' she thought, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. The uneasy sensation blossomed into a full-blown alarm, a siren of caution blaring in her mind as she prepared for a potential ambush.

At last, the invisible force exerted itself once more, pushing the doors fully open, their well-oiled hinges not making any sound.

Silently, like a ghost, Tia slipped inside, silently closing the doors behind her.

A palpable silence hung heavily in the air, devoid of signs of life or movement. The window shades were drawn shut, and the lights were extinguished, shrouding the room in darkness.

Yet her eyes flickered, the smart lenses coming to life, brightening the entire image and fully revealing the luxuriously furnished office.

The richly embroidered carpet was placed over the green marble floor, and various antique bookshelves—all made of polished mahogany wood—lined the walls.

'Huh?' Her eyes were immediately drawn toward a large table facing the doors, placed all the way at the back of the office, made of the same polished mahogany with intricate ornaments carved into it.

A balding, middle-aged man sat motionless in a large leather chair, his head slumped on the table. On the wall, covered with an ornamental green tapestry, writing in blood drew her attention.

'The one that mingled with lessers...' She read to herself.

A sudden jolt of worry surged through her, her mind racing with the anticipation of a failure notification ringing in her ears—the consequence of unfulfilled contracts. But against her expectations, there was only a deafening silence that filled the room and left her grappling with confusion and uncertainty.

'Huh, my contract didn't fail. Does it count even though he didn't die by my hand? Or do I still have to incriminate him and bring him to justice postmortem?'

Suddenly, the faint but distinct sound of footsteps resonated from beyond the doors, their impact dampened by the plush carpet in the corridor yet still audible. Her senses sharpened, and in an instant, a wand and a gun materialized in her hands. 'They are coming here.'