Séraphine and Tania parked near their detective agency and quickly walked toward the door. After opening the metal door on the outside, both women entered the building.
A small sign on the glass door displayed the word 'Closed' on the outside. With a simple twist, the sign now read 'It's Open.' After completing this brief procedure, Séraphine glanced at Tania, who approached the area where the receptionist usually sat.
"The boss said it was my turn this time. I hope I can help you, Séraph," the girl said, noticing her look. She simply placed her hands on the hem of her dress and curtsied while giggling.
Her dress was far from typical for a secretary: a blue summer dress with a red floral print that matched her tattoos quite well.
She deftly sat down in the receptionist's seat, lightly fiddled with the black phone, and grabbed a notebook from the desk. Instead of opening it, she arranged it the same way she did with the other objects nearby.
"Sometimes I feel like Ronnie is my training wheels," Séraphine complained, noting that her secretary seemed to have an unusual tendency to obsessively organize things.
"You and the boss get along well. It was us girls who decided to give you a little help, and the boss coordinated everything," Tania replied, shaking her partially bare shoulders before turning in her chair.
"It's not like we're dating or anything. I won't be your mistress," Séraphine said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. This caused Tania to stop spinning and give her a teasing look.
"You just made me lose 50 Aureum," Tania mumbled, faking a pained expression.
"What kind of bets do you make with each other?" Séraphine asked, her tone of voice hinting at annoyance as she flashed a rude gesture at Tania, who laughed at it.
"Sometimes you get bored waiting for customers at the bar. But if you do me a favor..." Tania stopped talking and looked at Séraphine's legs. She didn't need to finish her sentence to make it clear what she wanted.
"When your shift is over, go to my place," Séraphine whispered, moving closer to Tania and gently touching her chin. This caused the woman to look up at her.
Nothing was said, and an odd atmosphere filled the air before Séraphine released Tania's face and walked toward her office. When Tania noticed that Séraphine was gone, she relaxed in the swivel chair, a smile tugging at her red lips.
With her arms resting on the desk and her hands supporting her head, Tania stared outside through the room's glass panes. After sighing, she let out a few faint murmurs.
"Looks like someone finally wants to have some proper fun. That earned me 100 Aureum." After saying that, Tania fell silent again, repeatedly thinking about that brief moment with Séraphine.
Influenced by her thoughts, the gem on her forehead emitted a soft glow. However, with the sunlight streaming into the establishment, this occurrence went unnoticed by anyone looking inside the detective agency.
𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝
Although Séraphine's detective agency was not a big place, having only one floor and a basement, she felt at home walking through its corridors. Apart from the reception area, the corridors only led to a few places: her office, a storage room, a restroom, and a door to the basement.
It could seem small and even restrictive to others, but Séraphine was used to it and found it cozy. However, her first stop was not her office, but the storeroom.
There were somewhat empty shelves with various boxes and several filing cabinets, as well as a small arsenal. Since she was the only one who was supposed to be there besides the women from the O'Connor bar who took turns working as receptionists, she had no fear that anything here would cause her trouble.
Her arsenal was small but well-stocked. There were pistols, shotguns, rifles, a box of bullets, and cartridges. There were even a couple of carefully placed grenades. However, the most striking item was a rapier.
Its handle was quite stylized with a rose in its design. The blade was like that of any other rapier, except for the small lines carved into the metal running the length of the weapon.
When Séraphine saw the rapier, she felt a pang of pain as she remembered who had given it to her: her master. She never used it, though. She had never dared to hold it, even though she had the training and the necessary documents to carry it freely.
She just felt she wasn't ready yet. After looking at the rapier for a couple more seconds, she approached a wooden box filled with special bullets. The box was decorated with intricate lines.
Upon opening the box, she saw that it contained bullets. Each bullet had small blue lines that formed special patterns, and a few had more than one pattern carved into them, forming complex circuits.
Séraphine took off her hat and reached in, pulling out her revolver. She began to load it with six of the decorated, or rather, enchanted bullets. She had paid a lot of money for this batch of special bullets, and last night, she had seen how effective they were. As she loaded her gun, she looked at a small note next to the box.
[If you want more bullets like this, you know the price and where to find me!]
Those words were written in elegant cursive calligraphy, reminding Séraphine of the person who had sold her the enchanted bullets and her current arsenal.
Francisca Zhang was a peculiar woman at first glance because, despite the strangeness of her Western name and Eastern surname, her appearance was much more contradictory.
She was a redhead with black eyes and somewhat sharp features that denoted her mixed heritage from the Eastern Continent, specifically Serica. Francisca was the perfect blend of both, so to speak. She carved a niche for herself in the city through business ventures that took advantage of her main asset: alchemy.
Francisca was a skilled alchemist, and she had made not only the enchanted bullets but also the potion that Séraphine had drunk the night before at the construction site and the pills.
'I must visit her soon,' Séraphine thought, remembering that she was missing some alchemical supplies. This caused her to shake her head slightly.
Séraphine didn't want much contact with Francisca because of her connections. Someone capable of selling weapons to a detective, even if she was a somewhat famous witch in the newspaper, indicated that she was dangerous.
However, as Séraphine had mused, she would have to contact Francisca sooner or later, even if her prices were high. Alchemists were treated like precious and scarce jewels these days, especially since technological advances either kept them busy or took away their past advantages.
Although the fuel used in automobiles is called 'alchemical,' it is generated through an industrial, automated process. This was considered the first great blow to the alchemists' monopoly.
For the same reason, there was tension between the alchemists who joined the scientists in exploring the world through science and materialism and the alchemists who refused to change, preferring artisanal creations.
As a witch, Séraphine was affected by this issue to some extent. However, she did not consider it very important because she knew a fundamental truth that she had discovered as a child: knowledge expands horizons, which could be said to be a pillar of magic.
'As long as I can learn, what does it matter? Sometimes I wish magic had as much structure as science!' Séraphine complained after recalling some magical accidents she had experienced as an apprentice, especially the one that had cursed her.
With six bullets in a quick loader and her revolver in her hat, Séraphine reflected on the comforts technology had brought her. She felt it was superior to the stories she had heard about the past.
'No thanks. Imagine having to fill the streets with manure,' Séraphine thought, mentally thanking human progress before getting down to business.
"Now, let's review today's case. I feel that something interesting is about to happen," she murmured before approaching a filing cabinet to look for the folder she needed.
She had made many arrangements for this case, which had caught her attention from the beginning. Finding the folder, she began to read it as she left the storage room and walked toward the basement of the store.
The documents in the folder were about her client, a wealthy woman named Elizabeth Schwan. Three days ago, Mrs. Schwan came to Séraphine's agency asking for something simple: evidence of her husband's possible infidelity.
It was a typical case for a detective, but something in Mrs. Schwan's story made Séraphine realize that things were not simple. She activated her Vision to take a brief look at the woman, and what she discovered made her even more interested.
"Now, let's see how the images I got are doing," Séraphine muttered as she descended the stairs to the basement.
As she turned on the light, a wide space covered with well-organized objects appeared in front of her. The most important thing in this place, however, was the strange blue pattern on the floor: a ritual circle.
As a witch, Séraphine didn't like rituals that much, but she knew that when mixed with spells and certain external tools, they could accomplish things that would normally be complicated.
Séraphine focused on the center of the ritual: strands of brown hair that looked damaged, with burn marks. Next to the strands was a clear crystal sphere whose inside was filled with a soft blue glow that gently twisted.
Séraphine bent down to pick up the crystal ball and gathered the useless strands of hair. She looked carefully at the ritual circle, found no flaws in its structure, and nodded with an excited smile.
"You're too expensive to create, so don't break, okay?" Séraphine said to nothingness. She didn't care how strange this might seem to an outsider; she was very possessive of her things and liked to talk to them.
She subconsciously attributed a certain sensitivity to her belongings, as if she were the only one who knew they were alive, perhaps because they belonged to her.
Séraphine knew this was peculiar, but every witch has her oddities. She thought of the various odd things the different wizards, witches, alchemists, and warriors she knew did; each had their eccentricities.
Séraphine took a small stool from her basement, placed the folder she was holding on her lap, and held the crystal ball with both hands. Despite its appearance, the crystal ball was quite heavy.
"I never thought a wealthy woman would dare bring me her husband's hair. She must be desperate for evidence, or maybe she wants the money she'll get in the divorce.
Only something like that could justify her letting me record myself doing this, despite the possible violations of her privacy." Séraphine looked at the blue energy contained in the crystal ball, her aether, something that would help her get what she wanted.
Images of Mrs. Schwan's husband appeared. She used an expensive ritual circle and spent her aether. She even used a crystal ball capable of storing aether, a very expensive object, for something she could have done with a simple camera.
But all these twists and turns served to inflate the price of her services! If the lady only wanted photos of her husband cheating, she could have gotten them from any other detective agency. So why did she come to Séraphine?
Séraphine thought of three simple answers to this question.
First, she was a witch who used mysterious methods, which appealed to the upper echelons. Second, she was well-known and often appeared in the newspaper, which created a good image in the minds of customers because even the police would ask her for help.
The last reason was her last name: Rohan. At the thought of her last name, and consequently her parents, a grimace appeared on Séraphine's face. She quickly turned her attention back to the crystal ball in her hands.
'Don't think about them now,' she thought, dispelling the discomfort she had just felt.
"Well, let's see what I've recorded. I don't know if I'll see an unfaithful man or waste my time," Séraphine said, trying to cheer herself up, before closing her eyes and searching deep within herself.
Despite her weakened state from the spells used the night before, she channeled aether from her soul through her body, worsening her condition slightly.
The heat generated by the aether was particularly uncomfortable given how ill she felt today, but at least she was in better shape than last night, allowing her to cast this spell.
Then, she opened her right eye and brought her left hand toward it, pretending to hold a spyglass. Blue aether glowed in her eye and hand, forming a small line of energy that connected to the sphere she held.
Magic happened. Vague images began to emerge in the crystal ball. Initially blurry, they soon became clearer as she turned her hand slightly, as if adjusting a camera lens. Sound was also a problem at first, like listening to a radio broadcast with a lot of static, but soon, voices came through more clearly.
The images showed Elizabeth Schwan, a woman no older than 30 with brown hair and eyes. She looked familiar to Séraphine, who then realized that the woman was not her target but the man next to her.
Mr. Schwan was an older man with gray hair and a gray beard, a wrinkled face, and an overweight body with a prominent paunch. Séraphine thought Mr. Schwan enjoyed food too much. Part of the video showed this man eating snacks, especially chocolate.
Except for a few everyday things and Mr. Schwan's work, there was nothing remarkable. However, one could highlight the fact that the ritual captured a sex scene between the married couple.
Perhaps Séraphine lingered too long over those scenes, focusing more on Elizabeth Schwan than her ugly husband, but then she skipped ahead. Although her face felt hot, she tried to maintain a serious façade, even though she was alone.
Just when she felt the recording was about to end and nothing was interesting left to see, Séraphine's eyes narrowed as she found what she was looking for.
The things she saw in those last few minutes left her speechless, even though she was a woman who had seen many things in her life. She was a witch, a being usually associated with sensuality, glamour, and charm.
But now, because of the final scenes she saw, she felt like an inexperienced young woman.
Suddenly, Séraphine burst out laughing so loudly that she had to make sure the objects above her didn't fall. She stomped the floor, and her laughter echoed throughout the basement.
"Fuck! I never expected to see something so shocking. I just hope Mrs. Schwan laughs as hard as I did." Despite how uncomfortable she felt, the laughter she couldn't contain seemed to help her endure.
She wanted to see Elizabeth Schwan's face when she saw those scenes! Séraphine used raw aether to isolate the key parts of the video in a small rhomboid crystal. Its function was similar to that of a crystal sphere, but it had less capacity.
Sure, maybe she saved one or two improper scenes in another crystal for her personal use later, but the client permitted her to record her image when she explained the means she would use. As a witch, it was valid that she kept material appreciating human beauty.
After convincing herself with that excuse, Séraphine took the folder and the diamond-shaped crystal back to her office because her appointment with Madame Schwan was about to begin in a few minutes, and she needed to prepare.
Such good news must be presented properly. Séraphine had an image to maintain to convince clients to choose her. While waiting, she swung her legs up on her desk and ate a small, sweet lollipop that stained her lips red.
"What a productive day," Séraphine muttered, chewing the hard candy. As she thought of the images she had received, she burst into laughter again, but this time it was more controlled.
She'll never forget how funny she thought those images were! However, as she thought about them more, her countenance became serious, and her eyes narrowed. Much calmer now, she reviewed the video mentally, coming to several conclusions: some good, some funny. The rest? She didn't want to imagine them anymore.
Now, she just had to wait for her client, Elizabeth Schwan, to arrive. The thought of her client laughing with her, as she had in the beginning, had left her mind by this point. The only good thing was that she would be able to get paid.
Money was always comforting when she went down a rabbit hole. A small smile appeared on her face again when she thought of something that would potentially make her more money.
𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝
A black luxury car pulled up in front of Detective Rohan's agency. An older man dressed in a neat black suit and holding an umbrella stepped out of the driver's seat.
He walked to the back door of the car, facing the agency. First, he opened the umbrella and positioned it at a certain height to produce shade. Then, he opened the door and stepped aside as he looked down at the ground.
"Tom, dear, you can go for a drive. I'll probably be here for an hour," a female voice said from inside the car. Soon, a delicate hand emerged from the car, followed by the rest of the body.
Mrs. Schwan positioned herself in the shadow cast by her chauffeur. Her brown hair was tied in a bun, her face covered by black sunglasses, and she wore a delicate white dress.
She carefully held her black leather handbag as she walked toward the agency's entrance, accompanied by her chauffeur, who carefully kept the sun from falling on her.
When they entered the agency, Tania was the first thing they saw. She had been watching them with envy the whole time. After all, who wouldn't want to wear expensive clothes and be treated like royalty?
'But her vibe is so fake. She doesn't compare to Séraphine; it comes naturally to her,' Tania thought. Feeling that the lady in front of her wasn't a diva like her friend calmed the envy she felt.
"Good morning. Is Detective Rohan in? I'm Elizabeth Schwan," Mrs. Schwan said haughtily, making Tania feel uncomfortable.
"Yes, she's here and expecting you," Tania said. She already knew this woman was a client with an appointment today, thanks to the records her colleagues had left on the desk where she was sitting.
Her nonchalant tone seemed to annoy Mrs. Schwan, but instead of responding, she took a breath, looked at her driver, and gestured to shoo him away. Once the man had finally left the agency, Mrs. Schwan stood still and looked at Tania.
"Anything else?" Tania asked impatiently, causing Elizabeth to wrinkle her face slightly.
"You should be more polite. I'm a client of your boss, and..." Just as she was about to continue complaining, Mrs. Schwan was interrupted by Tania, who pretended to close her mouth with her left hand.
"Look, beautiful lady. You asked me if Séraphine was in. I answered you. Would you like me to stand up and walk with you to her office? You know where she is. She has two legs and is in good health. Why don't you just go?" Tania spoke directly and pointed to Mrs. Schwan.
"How rude!" Elizabeth complained, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She seemed to want to keep talking, but Tania simply averted her gaze, unwilling to look at her any longer.
Deciding that arguing with the receptionist was a waste of her time, Mrs. Schwan walked toward Séraphine's office, formulating the complaint she was going to give the witch.
As she reached the office, the door opened and Séraphine greeted the woman from her chair.
"Mrs. Schwan, please sit down," Séraphine said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk. Under her gaze, Elizabeth followed her recommendation.
"We're already somewhat familiar, aren't we? You can call me Elizabeth." Unlike her earlier haughty tone, Elizabeth was much calmer and more understanding with Séraphine.
"But you should do something about that rude receptionist," Elizabeth said, causing Séraphine to shake her head.
"Sometimes we shouldn't ask others to change. Maybe the problem isn't them," Séraphine replied cryptically before tapping the folder on her desk.
"But let's talk about your business, okay? Let's start from the beginning. You came to me because you think your husband is cheating on you, right?" Very openly, without worrying about the angry blush on Elizabeth's face, Séraphine changed the subject.
She liked the woman's looks but hated her personality. She lacked a certain spark that she couldn't quite identify, so, unlike her flirtations with Tania or Ronnie, she was much curt with Elizabeth.
"Yeah, for several months now, I've noticed him acting a bit strange. He doesn't want to sleep with me as much as he used to. When I first met him, he wouldn't even look at my face!
I know he's a lecher, and I'm sure some woman is wrapping him, because he doesn't try as hard when he's having sex with me. It's as if he has no energy or desire, as if he's satisfying his desires elsewhere and only sleeping with me to comply." Although Elizabeth tried to calm herself, anger surged as she spoke.
As she spoke those words full of sexual frustration, she didn't notice the strange look in her eyes or the smile she tried to contain at the corners of her mouth. Séraphine had to cough to calm down before speaking.
"Well, I recommended several methods to prove his infidelity and use it as evidence for a future divorce. I could photograph him on the spot, set a trap for him, or do the ritual I suggested, which uses locks of his hair to record his actions for several days." When Séraphine said this, she picked up the diamond-shaped crystal on the desk and waved it in front of Elizabeth.
"I have the evidence you want, but you might want to see it before choosing what to do because I don't know how to evaluate what I've seen." Séraphine's tone was unusually low, contrasting with her previous good mood.
This sudden change in attitude made Elizabeth curious about what kind of evidence could make a witch, who was a detective, no less, behave like this.
"I guess I should know what she did and who she did it with, right?" The words of Elizabeth were all the consent Séraphine needed.
A bit of aether was channeled into her fingers, penetrating the crystal and projecting its contents into the air. A series of images and sounds appeared before the two women. For the next ten minutes, only the recorded contents of the crystal could be heard.
When the content stopped playing, however, an uncomfortable silence stretched on for several minutes. The only sounds were the two women's breathing, the steady ticking of a clock on the wall, and the distant sound of city traffic. This plunged the office into a tense atmosphere.
Then, a low moan came from the client. She mumbled unintelligibly, then her slow, leisurely Elizabeth voice was clearly heard in the office.
"I thought he was with a bitch... but he is the bitch," Elizabeth muttered. She was somewhat dismayed at the way her husband behaved in the video. Even her hands began to tremble as she stood in disbelief at what she had just seen.
The lustful, domineering, rich man who married her, the man who made her moan with pleasure as he pressed her against the bed; the man who provided her with luxuries while behaving in a regal manner, was acting like a little bitch in the video.
The content of those ten minutes of audiovisual material was basically how her husband, Mr. Schwan, was treated in a humiliating and masochistic manner by a tall, gray-haired woman. He behaved like a bitch, which shocked her, because it clashed with her idea of her husband.
"But even though Mr. Schwan is okay with the things he does... I feel like there's something off. Don't you think? And that's when it stops being so funny," said Séraphine. Her smile disappeared as she replayed the video, this time focusing on the woman's appearance.
"Her features ring a bell. That hair and physique remind me of only one creature: a female Lycanthrope.
Charm? Extortion? Considering Mr. Schwan's business in the alcohol industry, it wouldn't be unusual for him to be mixed up with the gangs," Séraphine pointed out, pausing the video to make Elizabeth pay closer attention to her words.
The small crystal was much easier to manipulate than the large crystal ball in her basement. Séraphine deftly paused the video and zoomed in on the woman's face, making Elizabeth pay closer attention.
"Well, Lycanthropes can't charm people, so extortion is the most accurate answer," Séraphine concluded. But Elizabeth interrupted her.
"Or we're back to basics. He loves being humiliated and having his testicles stepped on while being told rude words..." Elizabeth cut off Séraphine's supposed deduction before tears fell from her eyes. Luckily, she was still wearing her black glasses.
"I know. It's obvious. He enjoys it. How could I not see the pleasure on his face? It seems I was never enough for him. But just in case he's being extorted and has somehow developed a taste for it, can you do something for him?" The lady said between sobs. Her words sounded muffled and lacked vitality.
A hint of satisfaction appeared on Séraphine's face, and a smile tugged at her lips. She had already come to the same conclusion as Elizabeth the first time she saw the video.
It merely gave her a little nudge in Mrs. Schwan's mind. Even though Séraphine didn't have much information about Mr. Schwan beyond what his wife and the news had provided, she managed to make this trick work. She did it all because she wanted a bigger payout.
"You'll have to provide more payment, but I can go to that place and 'chat' with that woman to find out her motives." This time, Séraphine was serious because, although she could laugh at others' situations and misfortunes, something soured her joy in this situation.
No matter what tastes and fetishes Mr. Schwan displayed in the video, perhaps he didn't feel very comfortable at the beginning of this situation, did he? Unless, of course, it was his idea.
But if not, and if he was forced to go to such extremes and twist his psyche, she had to do something. Much of her laughter came from the paycheck she could earn, not from the man's situation itself. Though the video was funny, the possible undertone could be disturbing.
While all of this was a figment of her active imagination, the fact that it was real made her take it more seriously because she could put herself in Mr. Schwan's shoes, which made her shiver.
'Even if I am a witch, I have my limits,' Séraphine thought, feeling a deep distaste for the Lycanthropic woman she saw in her crystal ball.
She hoped the situation was better than she thought, but felt this case was more complicated and interesting than before. At least, though, seeing Mistress Elizabeth's face as she signed a juicy check made her feel better.
'Money does cause happiness,' Séraphine thought at that moment.
Then, as a gesture of thanks for the extra money, Séraphine stood and sat in the chair next to Elizabeth, who was crying. As a detective, she understood that this woman was in love with her husband.
Séraphine had already noticed some inconsistencies when she talked about wanting a divorce, but her insecurities caused her to act that way.
Séraphine put her hand on the woman's shoulder, maintaining a respectful distance. If Elizabeth had no feelings for her husband, Séraphine might have taken advantage of the moment to flirt with her and arrange a date. But now, apart from money, something else motivated her, so her next words had a lot of meaning.
"I am a witch and a detective. If I can help your husband... I will do it for the price you gave me," Séraphine declared. She felt more relaxed at that moment, although she did not understand why.
Perhaps she would never understand it in her lifetime.