The Bookkeeper

Just at the circuit's entrance, ahead of the intoxicated wanderers who couldn't distinguish up from down, a young man about Raiden's age had claimed a weathered chest as his seat.

He projected controlled intensity, his keen eyes fixed and unblinking beneath a shadowy, ornate hood and mask that shrouded his mouth and nose.

His gloves caught the eye immediately—complex metallic designs inlaid with glowing blue and red gems that looked suspiciously like recorder stones.

With the others flanking them from behind, Raiden and Noelle faced the young man directly, their eyes locking with his.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Is this the Apex Circuit?" Noelle inquired, folding her arms across her chest.

"What's it to you?" he demanded, his tone parched and eerie.

Raiden let out a quiet laugh and moved closer to Noelle. "Let me do the negotiations while you handle the combat?" he murmured.

Noelle's lips curled into a sneer as she placed her aether cigarette in her mouth and retreated a step. Raiden smiled and dug into his pocket, producing the badge that Steve, the Transmitters' leader, had given him.

"We've come with a referral." Raiden's face grew impassive. "Now, can we talk like civilized people? This matter is both important and time-sensitive."

The young man examined them with calculating eyes before his cold, dark stare bore into Raiden's. "Are you telling me that's from the Transmitters?" he asked, clearly unconvinced.

Raiden gave an affirming nod, which made the young man pause momentarily, his gaze sweeping across their faces. He let out a sharp sniff of annoyance, stood up, and signaled for them to accompany him to a tent off to their right, well away from the wandering drunkards.

The tent's entrance was veiled by a cloak that the young man swept away as he ducked inside, Raiden and the others trailing after him.

Two enormous brown chests dominated the tent's left corner, their frames extending about three feet each. At the tent's heart sat a table topped with a burning candle, an unfolded map, and three chess pieces. Beyond it lounged a young man roughly three years older than Raiden, golden aura flowing around him.

His face was all sharp angles and aristocratic lines—silver-grey hair, pronounced cheekbones, an elegant nose, and steel-gray eyes that sparkled with arrogant charm and tired seduction.

He wore confidence like armor, his expression playfully condescending, radiating the poise of someone who commanded attention effortlessly.

He sported an elaborate white turban wrapped with delicate gold chains and decorative pieces, and was clothed in a luxurious deep violet robe featuring gold threadwork around the chest area, with a clean white layer visible underneath.

The sheer opulence of his attire proclaimed his authority, standing in sharp contrast to the starving masses that supposedly populated this kingdom.

"These people are here to see you, Chrono," he said, at last recognizing their existence, while Chrono stayed quiet and simply watched.

Raiden held back from speaking hastily. They hadn't actually verified this was the Apex Circle, and beyond that, he remained uncertain whether they possessed any knowledge of the pages.

Chrono's smile widened as he leaned back in his chair. "Really?"

Raiden's face hardened. The voice that emerged from Chrono didn't match his seductive exterior—it was arid and intimidating, unnaturally deep for his seemingly relaxed demeanor. Still, Raiden understood he needed to push forward, no matter what it required to get Chrono to reveal what he knew.

"Yes…"

Chrono adopted an expression of complete disinterest. "And who are you?"

Raiden stepped forward and placed the badge on the table's surface. He understood that admitting they were the Guardians of Ashes and Silence might damage their prospects, yet he wondered if they could gain Chrono's cooperation without that revelation.

Following a brief pause for thought, he released a quiet sigh. "My name is Raiden, and this is my team." His tone steadied with determination. "We're here looking for the twenty-eight pages."

Chrono was visibly shaken by the statement, his uncertainty and surprise evident in every line of his face.

"What did you say?"

Raiden smiled with quiet confidence. "We want Aaron's twenty-eight pages."

At that moment, Chrono seemed more confused than confident, Raiden's declaration both shocking and challenging for him to comprehend, particularly from an outsider like him.

Following a brief exchange of stares, he let out a laugh. "Do you have any idea what the pages actually are?"

"That's the whole point!" Noelle interrupted, beating Raiden to the answer.

Chrono leaned forward, elbows braced on the table, chin propped on his fists. Raiden narrowed his eyes, observing. He had expected laughs, underestimating—just like Steve had done. But Chrono was different. He seemed to know better than to underestimate anyone, making him impossible for Raiden to read. Too composed.

"Normally, I wouldn't tolerate this conversation, but being recommended by Steve means there's more to you than meets the eye." He smiled, locking eyes with Raiden. "Perhaps you people killed him."

Raiden and Noelle were surprised that Chrono already knew about Steve's death. It hadn't even been a day. They sharpened their senses instantly—if he knew, they were likely already marked for death.

However, Chrono raised his hands in submission with a soft smile that finally matched his appearance. "I don't really care about Steve's death." His smile deepened, eyelids tightening. "Killing him was good enough to tell me you have what it takes to go after the pages."

This sudden change—Raiden thought, confused.

"If it's the pages you want, then you're in the right place."

Relief surged through Raiden, making his skin tingle. At last, someone who could help him get back to his world. But his expression shifted in an instant—what if Chrono's desires for helping were more than he could afford?

"The Apex Circle is after the pages as well," he said, leaning back in his seat. "Which means we need to form an alliance."

That was too easy. Raiden knew cults well enough—they never gave anything for free. He needed to know the price.

"What's the catch?"

Chrono smirked. "Dealing with people like you is always a pleasure." The tease barely left his lips before his expression darkened.

There are quite a handful of organizations after the pages as well," he said, leaning forward. "But if you're willing to take care of our transportation with your mana, I'm willing to cooperate."

Raiden and Noelle exchanged glances. Chrono clearly believed they knew something about the pages' location or how to reach them, but they knew nothing. Meeting her eyes, Raiden recalled what Klein el Seer had told them—keep their ignorance hidden and learn everything from scratch.

Raiden took a deep breath and faced Chrono. "We don't actually know anything about the pages. We just know we must get them."

Chrono stared at them, instantly puzzled and lost in thought. "You don't know anything?" His tone was thick with confusion.

"No, we don't, but we're willing to learn."

Chrono slapped his forehead in disappointment. "Do you realize how long it will take you to learn all this?"

Raiden's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't speak for the others, but he knew the pages were his only way home. If he had to learn everything in one night, he'd make it happen.

"I'm a very fast learner, trust me."

Chrono nodded subtly in understanding. "Being number six at such an early age speaks volumes." He gestured toward his cheek, where his turban partially covered his yellow crest.

"I turned 6 at twenty, but huh?" He smirked.

Raiden remained silent, his mind racing. He needed to start learning everything—now.

"Well, come closer and let me show you. This will be a journey."