Chapter 3: Mrs. Sharons

This chapter still needs editing 

A knock came from the front door.

Do people in this world have a habit of visiting in the middle of the night? Angel hesitated whether to open the door as she looked at the red moon in the sky outside the window.

First, she needed to prepare a suitable weapon. She glanced around, her gaze sweeping past the poker by the fireplace, then to the flower pot placed at the study door, and finally, as if drawn by a mysterious force, back to the desk in front of her.

Following the memory in her mind, she opened the desk drawer, took out a large dictionary, and lifted the false bottom of the drawer. Inside were neatly stacked banknotes, a dozen scattered coins, an apparently valuable pocket watch, a notebook with a yellowed cover, and a revolver lying quietly on top of the notebook.

Ignoring the other items, Angel reached directly for the revolver. The wooden grip and metal body gave her a long-lost sense of security.

Time was of the essence. She quickly flipped open the cylinder, confirming that it was loaded with five unfired live rounds, then ejected the bullets to estimate their weight and size.

"0.45 caliber, not suitable for women to use. The recoil is likely to be quite strong," Angel examined the bullet in her hand. "But the power hidden in this female body is no less than that of an adult male. Holding this 3-pound handgun with one hand requires no effort at all, and even seems effortless." She reloaded the cylinder, quickly changed postures while holding the gun, and found that this slender arm had surprising strength, giving her more confidence for the potential fight ahead.

"Knock knock—" The knocking sounded again. Angel hesitated no longer. She took the revolver and walked towards the living room, also bringing the poker for good measure.

Avoiding the bay window facing the street, she came to the front door. There was silence behind the door, as if the visitor had grown impatient and left.

Angel was not fooled by such appearances. She recalled a basic ability possessed by all "Assassins", or rather all extraordinary individuals, called "Spirit Vision".

She pressed her tongue against her lower left molar, activating the Spirit Vision ability that originally belonged to Cole Granger.

Extraordinary individuals in Spirit Vision state can observe objects with spirituality within their line of sight, including various extraordinary items, materials rich in spirituality, and of course, living beings.

This spiritual glow can even penetrate obstacles of low thickness.

Under Spirit Vision, apart from the faint spirituality emanating from herself in the dim room, there was only a dim white light bright enough to penetrate through the door crack behind the door.

After confirming multiple times through Spirit Vision that the visitor was still standing behind the door, she quickly closed the Spirit Vision. In just these dozen seconds, Angel felt her own spirituality was nearly exhausted. This was partly due to her unstable physical and mental state, but it also clearly showed how much Spirit Vision function consumed spirituality.

She held the gun in her right hand against the door frame, gripping the poker in her left, and asked in a deep voice: "Who is it?" If you don't answer within five seconds, I'll shoot—she added silently in her heart.

"It's me." A soft voice came from behind the door, with a slight trembling tone, sounding like a young woman.

After a brief contemplation, Angel recalled the owner of the voice: Mrs. Sharon.

Sharon Hoye was the most famous and beautiful widow in Tingen City, and the most sought-after lady in social occasions. She was the second wife of Baron Hoye, but unfortunately became a widow.

Mrs. Sharon was widely popular in both business and political circles of Tingen, not only because of her special status but also due to her skillful social maneuvering and the "secret relationships" she maintained with several political figures. But for Cole Granger, Mrs. Sharon's most special identity was that of the mentor who guided him into the extraordinary world and became an "Assassin".

According to the memories in her mind, Mrs. Sharon herself was also an extraordinary individual, having advanced from "Assassin" like Cole, but exactly to which sequence, Cole didn't know. He only knew that she was at least a Sequence 7 "Witch".

Now knowing who the visitor was, Angel still didn't open the door. Instead, she cocked the hammer of the revolver, making no effort to conceal the sound of metal parts rubbing together that transmitted to the other side of the door: "Please leave."

The person outside seemed completely unconcerned about being held at gunpoint, and calmly said:

"Heh, it sounds like you've successfully advanced. I told you, this advancement would be a transformative change for you in every sense. When your condition stabilizes in a few days, I suggest you come to the old place for a meeting. It will help you master the power of the potion."

"I've left what you're looking for on top of the mailbox. That fellow has put up a reward of two hundred pounds in the Tingen Morning Post. You can go claim the bounty—consider it my reward for your successful advancement."

"Oh, and I've brought you some women's clothing. You wouldn't want to go out wearing men's clothes in the morning, would you?"

After leaving these three strange sentences, the person outside fell silent. Angel activated Spirit Vision again but found nothing.

Her body remained tense, still pointing the gun at the door. Only after five minutes of continued silence from outside did she cautiously put away her weapon.

She had guessed correctly.

In Cole Granger's memory, he had a good relationship with Mrs. Sharon, especially after becoming an "Instigator". Perhaps seeing Cole's rapidly growing power as worth investing in, Mrs. Sharon had taken their relationship to the next level—yes, that kind of relationship.

From Angel's perspective as an observer, it was almost certain that Mrs. Sharon had used the charm ability of an Instigator or higher sequence. But Cole Granger, the person involved, was undoubtedly being played like a fiddle by Mrs. Sharon.

It wasn't until the eve of his advancement to "Witch" that he learned the potion would turn him into a woman. Only then did he wake up as if from a dream, resolutely refusing Mrs. Sharon's request, claiming he would never take the potion.

Of course, given that Angel was here now, it seems Cole's so-called "never" wasn't quite so firm after all.

Based on the relationship between the two in her memory, Angel successfully played the role of a woman who had just advanced and was emotionally unstable, turning Mrs. Sharon away at the door and successfully getting through this meeting.

She had a feeling that if she had opened the door and the two had met face to face, things would definitely have taken a turn for the worse.

After confirming that Mrs. Sharon had left, Angel opened the front door, poked her head out to look around, and seeing no one on the street, quickly reached out to take the package from the top of the mailbox beside the door, then closed and locked the door.

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Could there be any traps or curses?

Angel stared at the package on the table, lost in thought.

She poked at the package with the poker. The outer cloth layer easily collapsed, suggesting the contents weren't anything hard.

Her heart, which had calmed down after obtaining a weapon, began to stir again. Angel was well aware that this change came after contact with Mrs. Sharon—it was anxiety induced by the disparity in their abilities. Her gentle words also had a mysterious effect.

This made her realize that "language" could also be a weapon for extraordinary individuals.

Putting the poker aside, she held the gun in one hand and lifted the cloth covering the package with the other. An exquisite badge rolled onto the table, with several neatly folded clothes underneath.

Could she really have come just to deliver clothes?

Placing the revolver within easy reach, she picked up a piece of clothing from the table and shook it out. To her surprise, it was a surprisingly conservative dress. The other sets were also women's dresses, and there were even a few sets of underwear and two pairs of flat shoes.

"At least they're not high heels..." Angel consoled herself, "And the clothes aren't revealing styles either." Even though she had inexplicably turned into a woman, she still couldn't accept overly revealing attire.

Putting down the women's clothes, she picked up the badge that had slid to the side when she opened the package and examined it closely.

It was a brass badge about half the size of a palm, symmetrically octagonal and heavy to the touch. In the center of one side was inlaid a teardrop-shaped amethyst about the size of a broad bean, refracting strange light under the dual illumination of the red moonlight and yellow lamplight. The other side was engraved with the words "To Quentin Cohen—from Azik Eggers", and upon closer inspection, there was a line of flowing small text at the bottom, "Keep it close, remember".

So it was a gift from someone else. No wonder the owner would offer a two hundred pound reward for this item. Just looking at the craftsmanship and the cheap amethyst, you could probably buy it for 10 pounds at a street-side gift shop, maybe a bit more for the engraving.

After confirming that this was just an ordinary commemorative badge, Angel lost interest in it and casually tossed the "two hundred pounds" aside. Since Mrs. Sharon said this thing could be taken to claim the reward, she didn't mind trying when she had the chance.

With the "Mrs. Sharon crisis" resolved, she began to ponder her current predicament again.

Just thinking about how she, a man in his 30s, had suddenly come to another world, turned into the current young girl, and was burdened with a series of murder cases, made Angel's head throb. She almost wanted to put the revolver to her own head and pull the trigger, to see if she could return to her original world.

However, her intuition told her that it wasn't as simple as dying the same way she came to go back. The death in the Earth world must have triggered some extremely special mechanism, which allowed the soul to come to this world and possess the equally deceased Cole Granger, and then transform into her current form under the effect of the "Witch" potion.

Right, Cole Granger was male, and I'm now in a female body, so what do those murder cases he committed have to do with me? No matter what, they can't pin it on me, right?

Realizing this point, Angel immediately felt relieved. At least now she didn't have to worry about being pursued by the authorities. Being wanted would not only make it difficult for her to move around in the city, but it would also create enormous psychological pressure for her, a former Templar Knight, even if she hadn't actually committed these crimes.

But even if she didn't have to worry about being implicated in Cole Granger's crimes, Angel now needed a legal identity. The original male identity, even if not wanted, could no longer be used.

She wondered if getting fake documents could solve this problem. After all, this world had no internet or databases. As long as the forgery was convincing enough, it should be easy to pass off.

Besides a fake identity, she also needed to find a new place to live as soon as possible, completely bidding farewell to the identity of "Cole Granger". This way, even if his past crimes were discovered, the police would only be able to trace it to this empty residence and the vanished Cole Granger.

Once settled, she could then figure out a way to return. This was also a world with extraordinary abilities, so the possibility of returning to her homeland was still quite high.

Oh right, she also needed to clean up the ritual traces in the basement to prevent the police from speculating that Cole Granger had changed his identity through a potion...

With several tasks arranged in order of urgency in her mind, Angel suddenly felt full of energy. She went to the bathroom to find a bucket, mop, and brush, then went down to the basement to scrub clean that bizarre radial bloodstain. She also rearranged the table, candlesticks, and other furniture in a different order, and even threw the cauldron used to brew the potion into the kitchen, striving to eliminate any association with supernatural factors.

Although there was still a faint smell of blood on the scrubbed floor, mixed with the damp air of the basement, it was no longer so noticeable. Angel decided to buy some cheap, nearly expired meat later and pretend to forget it in a corner of the basement. This way, in no time, the stench of decay would completely mask the smell of blood.

After washing the bucket and mop clean in the bathroom, Angel changed out of her clothes that were now soaked with sweat and dirty water. She took a quick shower and put on the women's clothing Mrs. Sharon had sent.

"I have to say, this body's appearance and figure are far superior to those female celebrities I've seen on TV and the internet before," Angel fumbled with the unfamiliar women's underwear, looking at the graceful body in the mirror, inevitably falling into reverie.

Before she knew it, she had been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for a quarter of an hour.

"This is too scary. Even I can't resist. If other men were to see..." Angel shuddered, snapping out of it. She hurriedly buttoned up the top button of her dress, covering that patch of fair skin between her collarbone and neck. She then drew a cross on her chest, asking for forgiveness for her confusion.

Next was to solve the stomach problem, while also exploring the surroundings of the residence—these two tasks could be done together, as Angel discovered that although there was a kitchen here, it was completely unusable.

She had already checked the kitchen and found that Cole Granger, who originally lived here, apparently didn't have the habit of cooking at home. Those cooking utensils showed no traces of oil smoke at all. The stove could be lit, but unfortunately, the seasonings were no longer usable. The salt had absorbed moisture and clumped, there were white spots in the black pepper shaker, probably mold, and there was even a strange layer of fuzz on the surface of the lard. Only half a can of tea leaves had survived, having remained dry.

After dumping all these spoiled seasonings into the trash can, Angel decided to go out to solve the eating problem.

Perhaps due to the increasingly tight fusion of soul and body, from waking up in the middle of the night until now in the early morning, Angel kept recalling fragments of memory. Most of these were common sense content that didn't involve specific memories, such as how to use the gas meter, the exchange rates between pounds, shillings, and pence (they actually use pence here too), that a year also has 365-366 days, seven days a week, 24 hours a day, and so on.

There were also a few vague memories about Cole Granger's background, but most of these were recent events. The more distant the memory, the hazier it became, until she couldn't recall anything no matter how hard she tried.

"I'll go to that restaurant he often frequented. The prices are reasonable, and the food is not bad." Angel pulled open the desk drawer and picked out a 10-pound note from the neatly stacked banknotes in the hidden compartment. After a moment's hesitation, she put it back and exchanged it for three 1-pound notes, two 5-shilling notes, and a small handful of copper pence.

The purchasing power of the pound sterling in this world was much higher than that of the pound on Earth. Taking out large denomination bills to buy things would be both inconvenient and unsafe.

But Cole was really rich. This drawer alone probably contained no less than 300 pounds. It seems he must have made quite a bit before retiring from his assassin career. Looking at the various denominations of ill-gotten banknotes in the drawer, Angel's last trace of guilt about casually taking someone else's money disappeared.

Before leaving, she made a simple holster from strips of an old bed sheet, strapping the revolver to her right thigh. With the loose skirt lowered, it was completely invisible from the outside.

Stuffing the banknotes and coins into her pocket, Angel left through the back door, taking a detour through the sparsely populated back alleys before returning to the main street.

The house that temporarily belonged to her was located at 6 Daffodil Street in Tingen City, part of a row of terraced buildings. It had a hipped roof and a gray-blue exterior. Although it was only two stories high, its tall chimney was no lower than the neighboring three-story buildings.

It was now eight in the morning, the busiest time of the day. Vendors crowded the streets hawking their wares, and shops were putting up their signs, waiting for customers.

Taking a breath of air mixed with the fragrance of bread, the aroma of grease, and the stimulating spicy scent, Angel finally felt she had returned to the world of the living. The anxiety and unease of her unexplained transmigration were temporarily suppressed. Her long-unfed stomach began to contract, reminding her of what she should be doing now.