chapter 13: The white witch's secret

Chapter 13: The White Witch's Secret

A Visit to the White Witch

Rin followed Engine through the dimly lit corridors of the Black Frost Guild's underground base. Their footsteps echoed softly against the cold stone floor, the air thick with the scent of old parchment, burning incense, and something metallic—oil, perhaps, or blood.

"You'll like her," Engine said, his usual smirk in place. His blackened fingers toyed with the edge of his red, thorned umbrella. "The White Witch is… quite a character."

Rin said nothing. He wasn't here to make friends. He was here to learn what she knew.

They arrived at a door, an intricate frame of steel and oak, marked with a single, silver sigil—a crescent moon wrapped in thorns. Engine knocked once, then stepped inside without waiting.

The room was nothing like Rin expected. Unlike the grimy underground, it was pristine—white marble floors, glass bookshelves filled with strange devices and old scrolls, and a scent that reminded him of flowers in bloom.

At the center, seated in a chair shaped like an open hand, was the White Witch.

She was a woman in her late thirties, her silver hair flowing like a river of light. Her eyes were sharp, golden like a predator's, and she wore a fitted black robe with swirling, glowing patterns that pulsed faintly.

She smiled when she saw Engine. "Well, well, it's been a while."

Engine let out a chuckle. "Not long enough."

Rin raised an eyebrow at the exchange.

The White Witch gestured to the seats before her. "Sit, both of you." She turned her gaze on Rin. "You must be Rin. I see the resemblance."

Rin tensed. "To who?"

She leaned forward, pouring a glass of deep red wine. "Your father, of course."

Rin clenched his fists beneath the table. He had spent years trying to piece together fragments of who his father was, yet every time he came close, the truth seemed to slip through his fingers.

"I assume that's why you're here," the White Witch continued, offering him a drink. He ignored it.

She laughed softly. "No interest? You're a quiet one." She turned to Engine. "He's not much of a talker, is he?"

Engine stretched out in his chair, looking completely at ease. "That's because he's too busy trying to act tough."

Rin ignored them both. "Tell me what you know."

The White Witch twirled her glass between her fingers. "Your father had a lair, hidden deep beneath the Down World. A place of secrets. A place only a few know about." She let the words settle. "Would you like to find it?"

Rin's heart pounded. "Where is it?"

She smiled. " patience first of all I'll be having engine to buy me a v3 syrup for my health now about the place it's located at Hudson's shop Hudson worked at the bar once before he became more of what you see reasons known to him your father visited that bar often as the owner would offer him a bio room my only guess is that is the place whether you'll be able to find it is up to you now get out and go get me my syrup.

" yes ma'am "engine laugh grabbing Rin that was lost in thought out of the house to go get her medications.

As Rin and Engine approached the White Witch's secluded home once more, something felt wrong. The air was heavy, thick with a scent Rin couldn't quite place—something burnt, metallic, and unnatural. The wooden steps creaked under their weight, but the usual warmth of the small cottage was absent.

The door, which had been left closed when they departed, now hung ajar, swaying ever so slightly with the faint draft from within. Engine, for once, didn't make a joke. His umbrella, always a symbol of his aloof nature, shifted in his grip, its thorny edges glinting under the dim light.

Rin stepped in first. The fireplace, which had burned so lively before, was now smothered, the embers cold and gray. A single candle flickered on a table, casting grotesque shadows on the walls. The scent of lavender and old parchment, which had given the White Witch's home its mystical feel, was now overpowered by the coppery tang of blood.

Then, they saw her.

The White Witch was slumped against the far wall, her once-vibrant robes now a dark crimson. Blood trickled down the patterned fabric in slow, deliberate paths. Her throat had been slashed cleanly, a single precise cut—efficient, practiced. No signs of struggle. Her body was still warm.

Rin swallowed, his fists clenching.

On the opposite wall, drawn in thick, wet strokes, was a symbol. A message.

"THE WALL SEEKS COMPENSATION."

The letters, bold and jagged, seemed almost to pulse under the flickering candlelight. Rin could feel the weight of them. A warning. A declaration.

Engine exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against his umbrella. "Tsk. I should've known she was marked."

Rin turned to him sharply. "What the hell does that mean?"

Engine crouched beside the White Witch's body, pressing two fingers to her wrist—though they both knew there was no pulse to find. "It means," he said, his tone unreadable, "someone didn't want her talking about your father."

Rin's gut twisted. He had barely known the woman, but she had held answers—his answers. And now she was gone. Just like that.

"No information is left behind after a mission," Engine continued, standing. His expression was hard, the usual playfulness absent. "The Wall sees all. But seeing is never enough. They must control."

Rin's eyes darted back to the bloody message. "Authority," he muttered.

Engine gave a single nod. "Exactly."

A cold realization settled over Rin. The Wall wasn't just watching. It was actively deciding what was allowed to remain.

The White Witch had shared too much. And for that, she had been erased.

The next morning, back at the guild, Sonia handed them a file.

"Your next mission," she said, pushing a stack of papers toward Rin.

Rin flipped through them. One name stood out.

Penguin.

Sonia leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "He's a major dealer in weapons, drugs, and information. He has ties to the Balotelli family."

Rin looked up sharply. The Balotelli again.

"And?"

"And," Sonia continued, "he's a lapdog. The real power? The Xiro family."

Rin's grip on the papers tightened. He had heard whispers about the Xiro family before. They were the ones who controlled information. The ones who dictated what people knew, what they believed.

"They're the ones altering the Wall's news," Sonia added. "They make sure the right people get blamed, the right people disappear."

Rin's mind raced. If the Xiro family had a hand in this, that meant—

"They're the ones who decide who lives and who dies," Engine finished, his voice cold.

Sonia nodded. "And it's not just for power." She tapped the file. "They believe in balance."

Rin frowned. "Balance?"

Sonia's gaze was unreadable. "With evil, there is a savior. With a savior, there is hope. With hope, there is hard work. And with hard work, there is law."

She let the words sink in.

"This world," she continued, "exists in cycles. The families maintain those cycles. If there's too much chaos, they create order. If there's too much order, they introduce chaos."

Rin clenched his jaw. "They create killers?"

Sonia's smile was grim. "They create everything."

Rin exhaled slowly. He had known this world was dark, but this? This was something else entirely.

Penguin wasn't just a target. He was a gateway. A link in the chain that led to something far greater.

And if they took him down—

They wouldn't just be killing a man.

They'd be making enemies of the ones who truly controlled this world.

The hunt begins

Rin stared at the file in his hands.

This mission wasn't just about revenge.

It was about tearing apart the illusion of balance.

For the first time in his life, Rin wasn't just fighting for his own plan.

He was fighting to change everything.

And he was ready.