After resolving the brief street disturbance with absolute, staggering efficiency, the Scarlet Devil Mansion group quietly departed the scene, fading effortlessly into the urban backdrop. Not long after their departure, the sharp, rhythmic clopping of hooves echoed down the avenue as the Kazimierz Police arrived in full force.
The mont they arrived at the edge of the park, the commanding officers felt their collective scalps tingle with sheer, unadulterated disbelief. Dozens of seasoned rcenaries, street thugs, and hidden scouts were strewn across the asphalt like discarded sacks of grain.
While frantically calling for a fleet of local ambulances, the lead officer imdiately radioed headquarters for heavy backup. Before long, every single person lying unconscious on the ground had been systematically loaded onto stretchers and transported to the central hospital.
However, a highly unexpected piece of good dical news arrived short hours later: despite the visually catastrophic nature of the street clearing, these n had rely been cleanly knocked unconscious by precisely placed, heavy kinetic blows. At the absolute worst, they suffered from minor concussions and missing teeth; not a single person had been permanently disabled, let alone dead.
Upon receiving this concrete dical report, a sharp internal divide occurred within the capital's upper echelons. While the hyper-paranoid Comrcial Federation remained deeply suspicious, the prestigious Kazimierz General Chamber of Comrce and the National Academy both decisively withdrew their lingering suspicions against the Scarlet Devil Mansion party.
Their logical deduction was incredibly straightforward: if this mysterious foreign group possessed the terrifying physical capability to flawlessly incapacitate an entire street full of ard rcenaries in a matter of minutes, executing their forces to the last man would have required zero extra effort. Choosing to cleanly knock them unconscious rather than spilling a single drop of blood effectively proved that the foreign travelers were relatively law-abiding tourists who possessed no active intention of taking mortal lives within the capital.
Since they were clearly powerful individuals who respected the baseline rules of civilized society, the mathematical probability that the previous night's horrific, bloody mansion massacre was the work of the Scarlet Devil Mansion group seed even lower to these military analysts.
anwhile, Flandre and her companions strolled into the grand marble lobby of the central bank to deposit their winnings, casually handing over the certified corporate check to the teller behind the secure counter.
The bank clerk took a casual look at the paper, then suddenly froze, looking up with wide eyes to inspect Flandre and the others. After utilizing their terminal to confirm that the party consisted entirely of wealthy foreign registered tourists, the clerk's attitude instantly shifted into a display of professional hospitality, imdiately initiating the secure transfer protocol.
"You might not be aware since it is your first ti visiting Kavalerielki, but financial transfers under the threshold of three thousand gold coins can actually be processed directly at the self-service terminals located right nearby. There is truly no need for a party of your status to wait in line here at the main desk," the clerk explained politely. As they handed back the premium bank card, they pointed a manicured finger toward a sleek row of advanced, automated transaction machines standing not far behind them.
Flandre tilted her head, while the older mbers of the group shared a quiet, introspective glance. It really is an absurdly developed comrcial empire, they thought. Three thousand shining gold coins... based on the geopolitical knowledge they had gathered so far, even in a massive, prosperous nation like the Empire of Victoria, that exact sum constituted an entire year's premium inco for the absolute upper elite class. Yet here in the heart of Kazimierz, such a fortune wasn't even deed significant enough to warrant a personal teller's dedicated manual service.
Looking at the situation through this macroeconomic lens, the underlying secret behind how a relatively small nation like Kazimierz could successfully survive surrounded by massive superpowers beca blindingly obvious. With the probable exceptions of the isolated northern snows of Sami and the deeply religious mountains of Kjerag, practically every other major country on the continent of Terra likely treated this hyper-capitalist knight nation as their private, revolving wallet.
After walking out of the grand bank doors, the group prepared to leisurely stroll all the way back to their luxury hotel. A purely comrcial city undeniably possessed its distinct benefits: as long as a person possessed an endless supply of physical cash, daily life was incredibly smooth, luxurious, and easy to navigate. Since the Scarlet Devil Mansion party was rely present as carefree tourists rather than permanent residents bound by local corporate tax laws, the daily societal pressure on their shoulders was even lower than zero.
Stopping and starting along the vibrant avenues to browse local boutiques and sample street snacks, they finally returned to their premium suite just as the dark velvet night began to blanket the towering skyscrapers.
The mont they crossed the threshold, Patchouli Knowledge imdiately collapsed onto the plush bed, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. She dramatically declared that she had walked a whole year's worth of physical distance today, announcing that from this exact mont onward, unless they were physically packing their bags to leave Kazimierz entirely, she had absolutely no intention of stepping a single foot out the hotel door again.
Looking at the completely drained librarian lying face-down on the mattress, the rest of the group was thoroughly speechless. Don't think for a single second we don't know the truth, Patchy—you were using your levitation magic to float a few inches off the pavent the entire day... Her delicate feet hadn't even touched the physical ground for more than five consecutive minutes; did that even legally count as walking?
But then again, maintaining an active levitation barrier across an entire day of window shopping was undeniably a different kind of ntal drain. Plus, if it weren't for the tactical necessity of giving the corporate spies a clear window to investigate their empty rooms while simultaneously treating Flandre to a tournant match, Patchouli wouldn't have agreed to go outside in the first place, so they gracefully let the matter slide.
The following morning, Flandre woke up with a sudden, enthusiastic whim to visit the nearby district known as Area 0. Her mory had been thoroughly jogged because she vividly recalled the stadium announcer ntioning yesterday afternoon that the underground headquarters of the Pinus Sylvestris was located deep within that specific sector.
Remilia, however, had absolutely no plan to go out under the bright sun today, fully intending to stay in the air-conditioned room to read ancient historical archives alongside Patchouli. So, in the end, it was the two prominent mbers of the Scarlet Devil Mansion's outer defense—the colorful "Rainbow Group" consisting of Flandre and her reliable bodyguard, Hong iling—who stepped out into the streets together.
When the duo arrived at the heavily fortified physical border separating the pristine comrcial zone from the restricted sector, they found a dense detachnt of Kazimierz Police stationed at the massive security gates.
Seeing two well-dressed, clean individuals approaching the threshold, the nearest Riding Police officer imdiately stepped forward, utilizing a polite but firm tone to advise visiting tourists to turn right back. He seriously reminded them that the territory beyond the gate was a strictly designated Infected district, warning them that if anyone voluntarily entered Area 0, they would be legally forced to undergo a grueling, multi-layered bio-inspection process just to be allowed back out into the main city.
Upon hearing that initial warning, the vast majority of ordinary citizens and traveling rchants on the street would instantly turn around with faces full of pale terror. After all, to the brainwashed populace of Terra, the Infected were viewed as sothing far more terrifying than a standard biological plague.
But today, the Riding Police officer at the gate had unfortunately encountered two unique individuals who didn't believe in such unscientific superstitions.
After being firmly stopped by the barricade, Flandre and Hong iling displayed absolutely none of the deep-seated fear, instinctual horror, or visible disgust that ordinary mortals typically manifested upon hearing about Oripathy. Instead, the little blonde girl looked up with great, sparkling interest, asking the officer if the famous Pinus Sylvestris order was truly based through these gates.
"The Pinus Sylvestris' primary headquarters is indeed situated deep within Area 0, but I must emphasize that this is a highly volatile Infected district..." the Riding Police officer reminded them again, his brow furrowing as he stared at the child's carefree deanor.
"Just as I thought! I knew my ears didn't deceive when I heard the announcer yesterday," Flandre said enthusiastically, a radiant smile breaking across her face as she tightly grabbed Hong iling's large hand to pull her forward. "Co on, iling, let's go check it out right now!"
"Infected citizens live in high density past this point; it is exceptionally dangerous for people of your social standing to go over there," the officer stated firmly, stepping slightly into their path as he saw Flandre completely ignoring his official governnt warnings.
"How exactly are the Infected inherently dangerous to be around?" Flandre asked, tilting her head with a look of genuine, straightforward confusion. "As far as I know from basic science, as long as a healthy person doesn't physically touch the active Originium crystals protruding from their skin and subsequently cut themselves, or accidentally get a significant amount of their infected blood directly into an open wound, we won't contract Oripathy at all. Shouldn't this level of dical fact be common knowledge by now?"
Having stayed embedded within the upper echelons of the Reunion Movent for such a massive period of ti back in Ursus, Flandre naturally understood the precise, objective biological paraters of how ordinary humans and Infected individuals should interact to avoid cross-contamination.
But what she casually considered to be foundational common knowledge was actually entirely unknown to the vast majority of ordinary citizens across the continent. To be absolutely precise, the strictly controlled information cocoons ticulously constructed by the ruling nobles and corporate elites of the various Terran nations deliberately avoided teaching these basic dical facts. They repeatedly, aggressively emphasized the existential danger, volatile explosive nature, and utter unpredictability of the Infected to intentionally alienate ordinary people, successfully separating the two classes to prevent unified rebellion.
Even within the boundaries of the Columbia—a nation standing at the absolute cutting edge of advanced global science and modern enlightennt—this subconscious contempt, deep-seated alienation, and systemic dread toward the Infected existed in heavy quantities, let alone among the ordinary, working-class citizens of a comrcial sports empire.
Therefore, after Flandre casually rattled off those objective dical facts, what she received from the guard was not an expression of understanding, but rather a long, bewildered look, as if the officer were staring directly at a thoroughly uneducated fool.
Seeing that Flandre was entirely insistent on passing through the security gates regardless of the consequences, the officer let out a sharp sigh, his tone turning dead-serious. "Think carefully before you cross this yellow line. You will be legally required to undergo a strict, invasive biological inspection by the dical corporate boards just to step back into this plaza."
Flandre waved her small hand flippantly in the air, indicating that since she didn't possess a single molecule of Originium within her supernatural vampire body, she wasn't afraid of their primitive dical inspections in the slightest. With that final statent, she pulled Hong iling along, and the two walked right past the barricades under the officer's complex, deeply pitying gaze.
"Is the societal gap between the Infected and the non-Infected populations in this world truly this massive?" Hong iling murmured softly as they walked down the concrete corridor. She hadn't noticed the sheer weight of the systemic oppression much during their previous travels, but from the interaction at the gate just now and the absolute horror painted on the faces of the surrounding pedestrians, she realized the cultural divide was vastly larger than she had ever imagined.
She carefully noted this sociological observation in her heart, fully planning to detail the grim reality to Remilia and Patchouli when they returned to the hotel suite. Then, she looked down at the carefree, skipping figure of Flandre walking just ahead of her. If it weren't for the little girl's completely uninhibited, fearless nature, it might have taken their group quite a long ti to manually uncover this dark "common knowledge" that every native resident in the world of Terra took for granted.
The mont their boots fully stepped across the final threshold into Area 0, iling felt an imdiate, jarring sensation, as if they had physically entered a completely different world.
If the main sectors of Kavalerielki resembled a glistening, ultra-modern tropolis built upon an advanced global economy, then Area 0 was the final, rotting shadow cast beneath the bustling tropolis—the absolute Slums.
Compared to the majestic, glittering skyscrapers piercing the clouds just a few streets away, the tallest architectural structures visible here were only four or five stories high, constructed from cheap, industrial concrete and rusted corrugated tal. Everyone walking along the narrow, poorly paved paths moved in a frantic, desperate hurry, and a thick, heavy sense of systemic oppression and grey exhaustion perated the damp air.
Hong iling swept her sharp gaze across the surrounding alleys, discovering that the eyes of the Infected citizens loitering in the shadows were filled far more with absolute, hollow numbness and bone-deep fatigue than with any genuine hope for the future. She couldn't help but frown deeply, her protective instincts subtly flaring.
"Excuse , miss! Do you happen to know the exact location of the Pinus Sylvestris order's building?"
While Hong iling was quietly analyzing the grim societal surroundings, Flandre's bright, high-pitched voice suddenly rang out from just ahead.
iling looked up quickly from her thoughts and saw that the reckless little vampire had already bounced forward, casually catching a young local woman by the sleeve to ask for direct geographical information. The local woman—clearly never having encountered a clean, brightly dressed, and completely fearless outsider inside the depths of the slums—appeared instantly panicked, her eyes darting frantically toward the dark corners of the street.
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