Until he boarded the tram home, he could still see the towering obelisk through the window, as if it were the mythical Tower of Babel. No matter where Bologue was in Opus, as long as he raised his head, he could always see this giant occupying a corner of the sky.
...
After a long two-hour commute, Bologue returned home.
Upon opening the door, he saw a jet-black box placed on the sofa.
Closing the door behind him, Bologue checked the doors and windows. There was no sign of forced entry, as if this black box had appeared out of thin air.
Examining the black box closely, its surface was engraved with two symbols: one of chains and swords, the emblem of the Order Bureau, and the other of a door, with a twisted vortex inside, leading who knows where.
"A department in charge of logistics, perhaps?"
Bologue sat beside the black box, memorizing the symbol of the Vortex Gate.
He recalled Geoffrey's use of the Key of the Crooked Path in the morning and guessed that this delivery might have been sent using the same method.
Trying to open the black box, Bologue couldn't find a way to access it. The surface was smooth, devoid of any seams, with a texture similar to metal.
Instinctively, he picked up the badge of Rupert's Tail, just as Geoffrey had cleared a seal in the corridor at that time. As the badge was removed, a texture of faint light erupted upon the black box's surface, which then cracked open with a straight line.
"This thing makes for a good safe."
Bologue marveled, gradually realizing what Geoffrey meant about the expensive nature of the field staff equipment—even a box can be adorned so lavishly.
There wasn't much inside the black box. First, there was a gray-black coat, which looked rather simple in appearance, its tone resembling that of the city.
"Field staff standard equipment, one 'Concealer' coat," Bologue picked up a small booklet from inside the black box, which appeared to be an inventory list, and read aloud, "It's embedded with an Alchemy Matrix, the Secret Energy effect conceals presence, facilitating stealth, reducing ordinary people's and even Condensers' perception of it..."
Bologue's voice froze; he had not expected this coat to be an Alchemy Armament as well.
Breathing slightly erratically, he looked at the remaining items in the black box.
Unpacking deliveries is always thrilling, especially when that joy overlaps with obtaining new equipment.
Following the inventory list, Bologue continued to inspect the items in the black box.
Next was a Hook Gun, which is very convenient for navigating the complex urban architecture and the Great Rift, allowing easy crossing of hazardous terrains.
Afterwards were regular medical emergency supplies which Bologue wouldn't need, so he didn't pay them much attention, just gave them a quick glance and set them aside.
After the miscellaneous items, Bologue found the last item in the black box, which was also the second and only other Alchemy Armament.
A hammer.
Bologue held up the Iron Hammer, carefully examining it. From its appearance, there's nothing special about it—metal sheep horn hammerhead, wooden handle, on which the mark of the Sublimation Furnace Core can be seen. The mark of the serpent and fruit, which is also found within the Concealer coat.
"Is a hammer part of the standard kit?"
Bologue murmured to himself, feeling skeptical about the hammer being standard issue. It didn't seem right, and then he noticed a detached tag in the corner.
"I know you don't like using guns, so I had them swap out the gun for something else."
This was Geoffrey's handwriting. Having been together for so long, Geoffrey understood well what Bologue needed—something that was seemingly decided long ago.
Checking the inventory list, indeed, the last entry was for a standard handgun. The Secret Energy effect was to enhance bullets, but these words were crossed out and replaced with another scribbled note.
"Shock Hammer, Secret Energy is Vibration."
A very brief phrase, clearly illustrating the author's impatience while writing this note.
Bologue could envision the scene—these standard pieces of equipment are mass-produced uniformly. After passing the assessment, Geoffrey applied for equipment for him, while those people seemed impatient, swapping out the gun for a hammer upon Geoffrey's request, and documented the information about the hammer.
"Vibration... How does it vibrate?"
Bologue swung the Shock Hammer, producing a gust of wind. During waving, a faint light could be seen shimmering on the sheep horn hammerhead, but beyond that, there were no additional effects.
Does it need to hit a target?
Bologue looked at the wall on the other side, then vigorously shook his head to dismiss this absurd thought.
Rather than testing new weapons at home, it's better to try them out at work, using enemies' blood and flesh.
Piling the items to one side, Bologue then picked up the documents obtained from Lebius, which described intelligence on the Man-eater. Unfortunately, the Order Bureau didn't have much understanding of it either, and the described intelligence didn't contain much truly useful information.
"Norm Ward."
Bologue looked at the black-and-white photograph in the document, which reflected a bald strong man, covered in menacing tattoos.
According to the intelligence from Lebius, Norm was ostensibly an alchemist traversing the Great Rift, making a living selling illegal drugs in this Land of Chaos. Secretly, he was an underling for the Man-eater, using potions to sedate patients, and performing Condensation, exchanging Philosopher's Stone for high rewards with the Man-eater.
Death, disappearance... Such things are common in the chaotic and grey Great Rift, hence Norm hasn't garnered much attention until the Order Bureau set its sights on the Man-eater, consequently targeting him.
Bologue repeatedly reviewed the data in the document, almost imprinting every word in his mind.
Releasing the document, he stood up and picked up the coat, standing before the mirror to change clothes. Everything as usual, a white shirt with a black tie, wearing a leather tactical harness, hanging several folding knives in the slots, while filling the remaining gaps with several small flying knives, inserting them one by one.
Adjusting his attire with a bit of ceremonial feeling, Bologue put on the gray-black coat. The garment fit well, under its outline, Bologue resembled a straight sword, paired with his sickly pale skin, appearing like a demon returning from the night.
The Hook Gun and Shock Hammer were inserted at his waist, the hem of the coat passed over his knees, just right to cover them, concealing their sharp edges.
Bologue examined himself in the mirror carefully. The moment he donned the coat, its embedded Secret Energy was triggered, with slight light flowing across the fabric—so faint that if one didn't deliberately focus, it would be hard to notice.
"Feels like something's missing..."
Bologue combed his hair. His hair was somewhat soft and, if not groomed, would all hang down messily, obscuring his face like a rain-drenched stray dog.
He forcefully combed it back and tied a small braid at the back of his head with a hair tie, finally feeling much more comfortable.
His gaze drifted towards the coat rack nearby. Bologue retrieved a similarly gray-black hat, which had collected some dust from disuse, vigorously shaking it off before placing it on his head, then standing again in front of the mirror.
"Much better this time."
Bologue looked at himself in the mirror, thoroughly satisfied.
He enjoyed this sense of ceremony, whether attending a meeting or seeking revenge, wanting to do it with utmost elegance, preferably with some music to accompany, like a grand performance—dancing energetically and, at the pinnacle of the song, driving the sharp blade into the sinner's throat.
Pushing open the door, a gust of cold wind blew in; Bologue could hardly wait.