Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Hearing the voice, Gregor turned toward it and saw a tall, burly man approaching. He was clad in a hunter’s coat, his disheveled brownish-yellow hair and stubbly face adding to his rugged appearance. His expression was stern. As the man came closer, Brandon jumped up in surprise, quickly standing and stammering.

“M-Mr. Turner, but we just restocked your team’s ammo yesterday…”

“We’ve used it up on target practice. I’m just here to ask for more. Is there a problem with that?” Turner said as he towered over Brandon, speaking with a commanding tone.

Brandon, visibly nervous, took a step back but mustered the courage to reply.

“N-No, I can’t, Mr. Turner. I can’t give you more extra ammo today—it’s against the rules.”

“Rules, rules… rules are made by people. Can’t you make an exception?” Turner retorted loudly, his tone growing harsher.

Brandon, clearly intimidated, struggled to respond. Seeing the situation, Gregor stepped in to defuse the tension.

“Alright, alright, Turner, don’t give Brandon a hard time. If you need ammo, I’ve got some extra in my squad. I can share some with you.”

Gregor’s calm and conciliatory words seemed to soften Turner’s stance. Turner exhaled and replied.

“Fine, fine, if there’s none here, then so be it. I just thought I’d ask…” He paused, then continued with a wry smile.

“By the way, kid, the gun I left here for maintenance—it’s ready now, right? You can’t keep the bullets without giving me back my gun.”

Hearing this, Brandon nodded hurriedly. He reached under the desk and pulled out a large single-shot pistol with an unusually thick barrel, placing it on the table. Turner’s eyes lit up as he saw the distinctive weapon.

“Oh, my baby, you’re finally back.”

Turner picked up the pistol and kissed it before holstering it at his waist.

Just as Turner seemed about to speak further, a woman’s voice interrupted.

“Captain Gregor, Captain Turner, urgent matters. Mr. James has requested both of you to report to the Director’s office immediately.”

Gregor turned toward the voice and saw Elena, a woman with light blonde curls dressed in a hunter’s uniform. She stood with a serious expression. Gregor exchanged a glance with Turner before replying.

“Understood. We’re on our way.”

With that, Gregor and Turner followed Elena down a corridor. Brandon remained at his desk, silently watching their retreating figures.

As they walked through the underground base of the Serenity Bureau, it wasn’t long before they arrived at a door. Elena knocked twice, and a slightly raspy voice from within responded.

“Come in.”

Elena opened the door, and the three of them stepped into a neatly decorated office. The room was furnished with carpets, sofas, and a large bookshelf filled with books. Behind the desk stood a middle-aged man.

Of average height, his neatly combed light yellow hair and small mustache added a refined air. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, and his slightly protruding belly hinted at indulgence. The man was none other than James, the director of the Bureau’s local division. Gregor and Turner saluted him upon entering.

“Mr. James…”

“Good morning, Director!”

James glanced at Elena and gestured for her to close the door before pointing to his desk.

“Take a look at this…”

Following their superior’s words, all eyes turned to the desk, where a vibrant bouquet of fresh flowers lay.

“A… bouquet?” Gregor asked, puzzled.

Turner raised a brow and asked, “What’s the issue, Director? Is it some kind of dangerous mystical item?”

James shook his head and began to explain.

“This was just delivered to the front desk by Ms. Ida. It was sent from the Blue Lavender Flower Shop five streets away, which offers flower delivery services. This bouquet was specifically ordered to be delivered at 9 a.m. today—just a while ago. The accompanying note reads…”

James paused, then looked seriously at his subordinates.

“To the brave warriors who fight in the shadows and silently safeguard the peace of Igwynt.”

Hearing this, both Gregor and Turner froze, exchanging startled glances. Someone was openly addressing the Serenity Bureau?

“But that’s not the most important part,” James continued, pulling out a postcard from the bouquet.

He flipped it over to reveal typed text on the back and held it up for Gregor and Turner to see.

A Crimson Eucharist base is located at 22 Western Elmwood Street in the lower city.

…

Morning, Igwynt’s lower city, within 22 Western Elmwood Street.

One of the core members of the Crimson Eucharist, a middle-aged man named Burton, sat in a chair in his study, his face stern and his brows deeply furrowed.

Burton was troubled by the recent kidnapping operation he had orchestrated.

Following a decision made during a previous gathering of the society, Burton had mobilized some of their most capable members to abduct the younger sister of Gregorius, the squad leader of the Serenity Bureau hunters, on her way home from school. The plan was simple: their target was an ordinary thirteen-year-old girl, and failure seemed almost impossible for his skilled subordinates.

Yet, to this day, there had been no word from the kidnapping team—not a single member had returned. This prolonged silence caused growing anxiety for Burton and the other core members of the Crimson Eucharist.

‘It’s been days… not a single message. Could it be that the operation failed? Did the Serenity Bureau catch wind of our plans and set a trap in advance? No, that’s unlikely. More likely, those fools acted carelessly, alerting Grayhill, and were all taken out by them. Damn it! I told them explicitly not to cause any commotion around that school, but they completely disregarded my orders when it came to execution!’

Rubbing his temples, Burton grimaced, his frustration and unease growing harder to contain. Though the losses were ordinary members with no mystical abilities, they were skilled operatives who had taken effort to cultivate. Losing them all at once was a significant blow to the organization.

Burton and the other core members were now almost certain that Grayhill had interfered in their operation. They were considering how to contact him, while Burton himself pondered strategies for negotiations. The recent string of incidents left him deeply unsettled.

…

Meanwhile, outside his residence, in the depths of the alleyway, two figures hid behind a corner, silently watching the door of House No. 22.

Both were men, their clothes tattered and stained with blood, and their bodies wrapped in bandages in multiple places, clearly indicating severe injuries.

At their feet lay a small coffin.

One of the men glanced up at the sun in the sky, then down at his wristwatch, which showed the time as 8:40 AM.

“It’s time…”

Muttering softly, the two men hoisted the small coffin with effort and began walking forward, step by step, toward the door of No. 22.

Upon reaching the door, they set the coffin down. One of the men stepped forward and knocked in a deliberate rhythm.

After the knock, a voice from behind the door asked, “What do you seek?”

The man coughed before answering, “Eternal fulfillment.”

A small window on the door opened, and a pair of eyes peered out, scrutinizing the visitors before expressing surprise.

“Thomas? And Oliver? It’s you? You’re back? What about the others?”

“Cough… cough… it’s me. Quickly, let us in. Our mission was a success, but we were ambushed on the way. The others… they probably didn’t make it. But we’ve managed to secure the target!”

Blood dripping from his lips, the man named Thomas spoke with difficulty. The voice behind the door responded immediately.

“Wait here. I’ll inform Mr. Burton!”

A series of hurried footsteps retreated from the door. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and the doorman urgently ushered them in.

“Come in quickly. Mr. Burton is upstairs waiting. He said to bring the item up at once.”

“Cough… cough… alright, but the two of us are injured. Carrying it up the stairs will be difficult…”

“In that case, we’ll take care of it. You follow behind.”

The doorman called down three more men from upstairs. Together, they carried the small coffin up the staircase, with Thomas and his companion Oliver closely following behind.

Before long, the group, along with the small coffin, entered Burton’s study.

Burton rose immediately upon seeing Thomas and Oliver.

“It’s you two… where are the others?!”

“Cough… Mr. Burton, we completed the mission but were ambushed by an unknown force. The others… their status is unclear. We barely managed to protect the target and escape, but we were delayed along the way due to certain circumstances…”

As he spoke, Thomas opened the small coffin placed on the floor, revealing a white-haired girl within. She lay inside, her eyes closed, as if in a deep sleep. Burton’s eyes lit up at the sight and he spoke quickly.

“Explain the details later. For now…”

He walked over to a bookshelf in the study, activated a hidden mechanism in a candlestick, and opened a secret chamber behind the bookshelf, revealing a bloodstained altar.

Burton needed to notify the other core members immediately, as the entire Crimson Eucharist was anxiously awaiting updates on this matter.

Burton strode toward the altar, while Thomas and Oliver silently watched.

As Burton’s figure retreated, the expressions of pain and exhaustion on Thomas and Oliver’s faces suddenly vanished, replaced by an icy, chilling indifference.