Westminster Bank

"..."

’I have to get revenge for this.’

But before seeking revenge, Dewey decided to continue playing dead, hoping to find a chance to slip away.

Judging by the sounds carried on the wind, there were three other people present besides himself. Two of them were probably Constantine and Isabella, who was also being held hostage.

There was one more person he couldn’t identify. ’Could it be their backup?’

Suddenly, Dewey sensed a large shadow fall over him, and a somewhat smarmy male voice spoke. "Why isn’t this guy waking up yet? He’s going to pass his expiration date at this rate."

"Kick him in the crotch." The voice this time was Constantine’s. "That’ll wake him up."

"Is that really a good idea?" the smarmy voice asked. "After all, besides Bill, who died so mysteriously, this is the last of the Frank Family’s Direct Lineage."

"Modern medicine is so advanced. They can just use a test tube."

"Good point."

Using the keen senses of a Beast Faction Demon Hunter, Dewey detected that the man in front of him had actually lifted his foot after speaking. A faint whistling sound was now layered over the howl of the wind.

’This guy is actually going to do it.’

The hair on Dewey’s arms stood on end. He frantically twisted his hips to the side, only to bump into something.

"So you are awake after all." Baron’s voice came from beside him.

"Mr. Constantine... perhaps we can try to talk this over."

Dewey knew he couldn’t get out of this, so he tried to see if there was any room to negotiate.

Before Dewey could react, he felt something being pressed into his palm. It was ice-cold, like a shard of metal.

Then, something as hard as steel was pressed to his temple. "Inject your Spiritual Power into the fragment! Then, repeat the questions I’m about to ask!"

’It must be a gun.’

Dewey guessed it was a gun; he had seen Baron use one before.

He channeled his Spiritual Power into the fragment in his hand and said at once, "Don’t do anything rash! I’ll do what you say!"

"First question: Who was the one who killed Anthony Lancelot? Say it!"

’So it really wasn’t Constantine who killed Anthony.’

Dewey froze, stunned by the question. He didn’t understand who he was supposed to be repeating it to, but the next question came right after:

"Second question: What is the relationship between the Hestia Family and the Dragon Eater Association?"

’Could the Hestia Family really be connected to the Dragon Eater Association?’

"Third question: Why did the Dragon Eater Association’s Cultists appear in the Dracul Mountain Range? Why are there so many Dragon Attendants in the cavern, and what is the Association’s ultimate goal in creating them?"

’That was a question Dewey was also curious about. As for Dragon Attendants... weren’t those the deformed monsters developed by Germanic Alchemists during World War II?’

’He recalled the creature that the impostor Constantine had transformed into. Could that have been a Dragon Attendant?’

"Fourth question..."

...

Dewey listened to all of Baron’s questions. Even though he had a million sarcastic comments he wanted to make, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and instead committed them to memory with the acuity of an Old Race.

He felt the pressure of the gun on his temple increase and asked uncertainly,

"Are you sure you just want me to repeat them?"

"Of course."

Then, he sensed another shadow appear before him.

It seemed a heavy object had been pushed in front of him.

As he began asking the questions in the order he had memorized, his eyes shot open beneath his blindfold. A clear human voice was coming from the heavy object!

But that wasn’t what was most important. What was most important was the voice... it sounded like the Dragon Devourer Cultist who had been impersonating Constantine!

’Didn’t he die?’

’Why?’

Then the voice became clearer until it answered his question with perfect accuracy.

"I don’t know who killed Anthony, but by my estimation, it was the work of an Elder."

After that sentence, the voice stopped abruptly.

Dewey suddenly felt a strange hollowness inside, as if something had been drawn out of him.

’Was it... the ability to feel cold? Had he lost it?’

After that, Dewey asked the questions Baron had given him, one by one. And as he received answers shocking enough to last him a year, he also lost certain senses—abilities that should have lasted a lifetime.

He heard the man Baron called "Tang" speak. "What do we do with him now? He’s the direct heir of the Frank Family, after all. If we let him go, it’s not good for us that he knows all these secrets. But killing him just like this seems like a waste. It’s a bit of a headache."

Baron said, "Do what you want. I’ve already gotten what I came for. Just be clean about it."

Hearing footsteps approach, Dewey started to panic. "I think we can talk about this," he said quickly.

"Talk about what?"

"My bank card PIN."

Just as he’d hoped, the footsteps stopped.

’The plan worked.’

"The bank card is in my right pocket. The PIN is xxxxxx. There are twenty thousand British Pounds in there. I’ll give it to you if you guarantee my safety."

Immediately after, Dewey felt a weight settle on his shoulders as something was strapped to his back. "What is this?"

The man’s voice sounded by his ear. "A parachute."

And then his parachute was deployed and he was kicked off the edge.

Listening to Dewey’s screams as he fell, Isabella asked Baron, "Why not just kill him? Aren’t you afraid he’ll seek revenge, or leak everything he learned here?"

Baron put away the [Dagda Cauldron Fragment] and said, "The Frank Clan wants the Constantine Family’s Plains, and so does the Hestia Family. They’re competitors. This information will be his bargaining chip."

"You’re very different from how you used to be," Isabella said. "It’s like you’re a completely different person, yet you still look the same."

Baron coughed. "People change."

"So, should I call you Master Jack or Constantine now?" Isabella’s voice was icy. "You’d better remember our agreement. The only reason I’m cooperating is because you promised to tell me where the Dragon Witch is."

"If this is another deception," Miss Eldest brandished her Red Spear again, "I don’t mind having a bloody battle with the legendary Lord Dragon Knight right here on this dragon’s back."

She spat out the two words "Dragon Knight" with profound meaning.

Seeing this, Jack—who had somehow miraculously survived the earlier plane crash—rushed to mediate. "Hey, we’re all friends here! We can talk this out... One of you Constantine Brothers, can you please try to talk some sense into your childhood friend?"

’Miss Eldest, if you’re this aggressive, you’ll never get married, no matter how beautiful you are.’

"Baron," he said. "You can just call me Baron, like you did when we were kids."

Miss Eldest froze for a moment. Baron continued, "As for the Dragon Witch’s location... I don’t actually know."

Baron chose his words carefully. "I don’t have many connections to the Dragon Witch Carmen. The only interaction we ever had was a trap set by someone with an agenda."

"Then how did you become a Dragon Knight? Six years ago, you were a Bloodless. But now..."

Isabella sized Baron up, then glanced at her surroundings—the back of one of the world’s few Pure-blood Ancient Dragons. She paused before continuing,

"...but now you’re Bronze Tier. And a Dragon Knight bonded to a Pure-blood Ancient Dragon."

As she said this, it dawned on Isabella that if all this were true, it meant Constantine had reached the Bronze Tier in just six years, and in a barren place like the Outer Side, no less. ’Besides talent, he must have worked incredibly hard.’

Baron said, "I can’t answer that question. However, I can tell you with certainty that while this is related to the Dragon Witch, the connection isn’t a major one."

’After all, according to what KK said back then, she just gave me a chance to see the door. I was the one who found the key to open it.’

Seeing that Isabella was about to ask another question, Baron changed the subject. "Why do you hate the Dragon Witch so much?"