The fog in Storm City had dissipated. It was evening now, and the shimmer of the Tamas River under the setting sun was finally clear to see.

A young man arrived at an old, run-down, small inn. The inn had no front desk, only the owner watching over the place while smoking a cheap cigarette. He sized up the newcomer, who wore a stiff-brimmed newsboy cap and work clothes.

’This is a young lad from the countryside, using his parents’ savings to try his luck in the big city. First thing he did was buy himself a new outfit. People like him don’t stay in my inn more than a few days before they resign themselves to moving to the suburbs, sleeping in a communal room with fellow workers near the docks or a factory.’ The owner took another look. The young man had a well-proportioned build, his visible arms lean yet muscular. ’He’s got the body for hard labor.’

"A room."

’His accent isn’t local, and his phrasing is off too...’ The owner was uncertain again. ’Could he be an apprentice from some small town, here in Storm City to seek his fortune after finishing his training?’

Rorschach had no idea his new getup was inspiring such a drama in the innkeeper’s mind. He had gone to great lengths to choose this place to lay low:

First, he returned to the Magic Guild, wrote a letter detailing his encounter and sent it to the Tower of Storms. He also wrote to Master Kano, hoping he would send a letter to the mages at the Tower of Storms and use his influence on the matter. Then, using his own identification as Rorschach, he found another hotel and booked a room. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

All of the above was for the Knight Order’s benefit. Once in the room, Rorschach immediately jumped out the window under the cover of [Mirror Flower Water Moon]. The fog hadn’t yet dissipated, making his disguise all the easier. Once outside, he took off his Valois-style coat, had a rental carriage take him to a clothing store the driver frequented, bought his current outfit, and then found a third inn—the one he was at now.

"Identification." The owner said, blowing a smoke ring in Rorschach’s direction without turning his head.

’Thank goodness for the [Air Filter Bubble]...’ Rorschach didn’t even flinch, just stood his ground and took out a piece of paper.

The owner glanced at it, then his big, hairy hand covered it and swept it away. It wasn’t any identification document, but a crumpled banknote. "Still have to register a name, right?" In his mind, Rorschach’s identity shifted from apprentice to fugitive. ’Maybe he got into trouble back home—young people do all sorts of impulsive things—and now he’s trying to "hide in plain sight" in the Kingdom’s largest and most transient city.’

Rorschach immediately gave the first name he had heard in Istani: "Bandy."

The owner nodded and wrote it down. "How many nights?"

"Three nights, for now." He laid out a handful of coins—shillings and pence. The owner picked out four shillings and six pence, then tossed the young man a rusty key. "Breakfast is included. Anything else to eat or drink is extra. Room 207. If you can read, I won’t bother taking you up."

Rorschach’s final hideout was this cheap inn. The wooden floorboards were riddled with holes from insects and rats, stains of all sizes dotted every surface, and an ineradicable stench of mold and sweat hung in the air. If it hadn’t been for that sudden turn of events, he could at least be sleeping on a relatively clean, large bed.

"Oh well, that other place probably doesn’t change the sheets either." Rorschach shoved the sheets and blanket to one side and took his own sleeping bag out from his Storage Ring.

It was still too early for bed. Rorschach bought some pea soup and bread and began to sort through the current situation in his room while he ate.

’Something isn’t right. The whole series of events feels too coincidental. Why would the Knight Order show up to search the inn the moment he checked in? Even if they were supposedly after the previous tenant who had gone missing.’ Once he calmed down, Rorschach stopped automatically equating "the missing tenant" with "Teacher Caroline," because his own letter was the only piece of evidence.

His letter hadn’t been tampered with; the name "Caroline" on it was perfectly clear. And Rorschach remembered that the contents he’d written on the spot at the Magic Guild’s Storm City branch hadn’t been altered either.

’As the Elf said, he was a special case among the "madmen." Not only was he immune to the curse that erased all trace of a person’s existence, but his writing couldn’t be altered either. Moreover, Kano also remembered Caroline. The content of the Royal Academy’s reply was now unknown, but Rorschach believed they were also unaffected by the curse.’

’So the effect is limited to Istani, or maybe even just Storm City.’

Rorschach had witnessed the letter becoming distorted, which meant there was a trigger. When the letter was sent to Istani, it had clearly been in its original state, and it was still the original text when he opened it himself. So, when did it change?

’The first time: when the Guild staffer saw the letter, the text changed.’

’The second time: when he showed the restored information to Benedict, it became distorted again.’

’So it’s the people! The text changes when a local resident of Storm City sees it.’ Rorschach was beginning to grasp some of the curse’s rules, but he was still unclear on the details. ’For example, how is a "local" defined? What if he isn’t special at all? What if it’s just because he’s a newcomer and hasn’t been assimilated or corroded by some power yet...’

He glanced out the window at the deep night blanketing Storm City and shivered.

’Calm down...’ Rorschach decided to resort to a method he’d rather not use. He took out Balan’s Pearl. Ever since the pearl had dragged him into a prophetic vision last time, the young man had been wary of it, treating the remnant soul of the God of Deceit with much more caution. He had stopped feeding it Magic Power and Transmuting Dust, but today’s situation left him no other choice.

He simply drew "Yes" and "No" options on a piece of paper, infused the pearl with a small amount of Magic Power, and asked, "Does the Shadow City truly exist?"

Rorschach rolled it, and the pearl stopped on "Yes."

’Benedict wasn’t just feeding me some old urban legend. Or to put it another way, "the urban legends are all true."’ Rorschach was familiar with similar concepts, like how the Extinguishing Masters’ Invisible Empire exists in the shadows of the Soul Society...

He infused a little more Magic Power, and after the feather inside the pearl regained its luster, he asked another question and rolled it again: "Is Teacher Caroline of the Empire Royal Magic Academy in the Shadow City?" Given that "Caroline" was a common name, Rorschach added the qualifier.

The pearl swirled on the paper for a moment, seemingly interfered with, but it still gave an affirmative answer.

’Should I let it show me the scene directly, like last time?’ Rorschach thought it would be best to see where his teacher was with his own eyes, but he was wary of letting the pearl invade his consciousness again.

’I’ll just ask first.’ Rorschach made up his mind. "Can you see where Teacher Caroline is?"

This time, the pearl rolled to "No."

Finally, Rorschach posed the question he needed to confirm: "Is the Elf Benedict Kangqi..." He had originally wanted to ask directly about Mother Earth, but he was afraid the pearl would refuse to answer about a being of such high status, so he changed his wording: "...connected to the Return of the Holy Mother Sect and the object of their worship?"

TAP, TAP, TAP... The pearl bounced on the hardwood tabletop. Its answer—"Yes"!

’That...’ Rorschach froze. ’Just connected.’ He rephrased the question: "Is Benedict a follower of that entity?"

The pearl stopped bouncing and just rolled off the paper, its feather flashing.

’Is it haggling with me?’ Rorschach infused a bit more Magic Power, and only then did the pearl answer: "No."

"Is Teacher Caroline’s disappearance related to that entity?"

"Yes."

After the string of questions, the pearl seemed to have finally run out of power. No matter how much more Magic Power Rorschach infused, the feather wouldn’t regain its luster, and the pearl couldn’t make a choice to answer his questions.

Rorschach breathed a sigh of relief. The tasks of finding the person and tracking the clues now seemed to converge on a single point. It looked like going to the Shadow City was now unavoidable, but he absolutely could not let the suspicious Benedict lead him there.

’It would be best if I don’t go alone...’ Rorschach set up his warning wards, slipped into his sleeping bag, and just before falling asleep, he thought of a face mostly covered by a beard.