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ArabicArknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 35
Chapter 35: Madam Fumizuki’s Presence
“Big Sis Beatrix, Flandre is over here!”
Swire and the other two sprinted toward the source of the fading inferno. The intense heat warped the night air, forcing them to shield their faces as they approached the scorched earth. Hovering playfully around a still-smoldering ring of fire were four identical Flandres.
Ch’en fanned the stifling air away from her face, her brows knitting together. “Where is the Blood Fiend?”
Flandre simply giggled and pointed a tiny finger at an unidentifiable, charred lump resting beside a pile of white ash.
“Right here!” the four Flandres chimed in unison.
Right on cue, several dark silhouettes detached themselves from the surrounding gloom. The Shadow Guards ignored the residual heat, stepping up to the pile of black ash and prodding it with the tips of their long blades. The charred remains crumbled instantly, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
Only then did the masked figures turn and nod respectfully toward the little girl.
“Thank you, Miss Flandre, for dealing with this Blood Fiend.”
Ch’en reached out and caught one of the floating Flandres, pulling the girl into her arms while glaring at the operatives. “You found him early on?”
Her tone was sharp, laced with open hostility. As far as Ch’en was concerned, the sudden appearance of Wei Yenwu’s secret police meant there was a ninety-nine percent chance the chief executive had known about the Blood Fiend all along—and deliberately left the monster for them to stumble across.
“No. Blood Fiends are exceptionally cunning,” the lead Shadow Guard replied, easily catching the accusation in her voice. “We could only confirm that the Gravedigger was compromised. We could not verify the true identity of the mastermind behind him.”
The target they had been tracking was merely a decoy, a thrall twisted by the Blood Fiend’s foul Originium Arts. Because the Shadow Guards had witnessed Flandre effortlessly obliterate the Gravedigger earlier, they had maintained maximum distance and high alert while moving to capture the true culprit. That caution was the only thing that saved them from being caught in the Blood Fiend’s self-destructive backlash.
It was also why they arrived a few minutes behind Ch’en’s group, just in time to watch Flandre’s pillar of fire reduce the ancient Sarkaz to cinders.
“Then we’ll be leaving.” Ch’en adjusted her grip on the Flandre in her arms. Seeing that the operatives were already fanning out to sweep the cemetery, she had no intention of sticking around.
“Of course. Safe travels, Madam Ch’en. We must remain to ensure the Blood Fiend left no hidden traps behind.”
Swire scooped up a second Flandre, while Hoshiguma—whose immense Oni strength could easily bench-press a vehicle—simply let the remaining two Flandres perch on her broad shoulders. Together, the trio carried their four identical companions out of the cemetery and toward their parked car.
“By the way, Flandre… are each of you a separate entity?” Swire asked, her racing heartbeat finally settling back to a normal rhythm now that the threat was entirely eradicated. She looked down at the identical face smiling up from her arms.
“Flandre is Flandre, but Flandre can also not be Flandre!”
The little girl happily explained the mechanics of her ‘Four of a Kind’. They shared a single heart and mind, but when it was time to play, they could split apart and act independently without any interference.
“So when you said earlier that you play with yourself, you meant several Flandres playing together?” Swire asked, a look of sudden realization washing over her face.
“That’s right!” the four Flandres answered in perfect, echoing unison.
Swire shivered slightly. “Eek. Just one of you answering is plenty. Having all four sets of eyes snap toward me at the exact same time is a little creepy.”
The moment the words left her mouth, three soft poof sounds echoed in the night air. The Flandres on Hoshiguma’s shoulders and the one in Ch’en’s arms vanished into thin air, leaving only the single Flandre resting in Swire’s embrace.
The feline’s eyes lit up with absolute triumph. “So, the one I’m holding is the original! As expected, the bond between little Flandre and me is completely indestructible!”
Ch’en stared at her empty arms, a deep scowl forming on her face as she glared at the smug feline.
“Get in the car!” Ch’en snapped, yanking the passenger door open and dropping heavily into the seat.
“Hehe, your luck just isn’t as good as mine!” Swire poked her head out the back window, flashing a victorious grin.
“Is there something wrong with your head?” Ch’en reached out the window and shoved Swire’s face back inside.
Undeterred, Swire leaned forward between the front seats, hugging the little vampire tight. “I’m holding the real Flandre!”
Ch’en cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the quiet night. “How about we get out right now and settle this? I guarantee I can give you a very ‘comfortable’ full-body massage.”
Knowing exactly when she had pushed her luck to the absolute limit, Swire retreated to the furthest corner of the backseat. She patted Flandre’s head gently. “Don’t learn from this Sausage Dragon, Flandre. Her brain is entirely made of muscle. We are elegant ladies; we must maintain our composure.”
Ch’en closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. They were still on the outskirts of the city, and the area wasn’t fully secured. She would hold her temper for now. If she was going to beat the living daylights out of the feline, she would do it in the safety of Lungmen.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, Hoshiguma just smiled at the familiar bickering. She turned the key, bringing the engine to life, and steered the vehicle toward the Lungmen port of entry.
By the time the car rolled up to the massive checkpoint gates, the dashboard clock read four in the morning. Normally, the port was dead silent at this hour, securely locked down until seven. Arriving now usually meant a swift interrogation and an escort away by the border guards.
Tonight was different.
As Hoshiguma’s headlights swept across the barricades, a heavy steel gate silently slid open, carving a direct path into the heart of Lungmen. Hoshiguma didn’t hesitate, pressing the accelerator and gliding straight through. The moment their rear bumper cleared the threshold, the gate sealed shut behind them, leaving no trace it had ever moved.
Cruising down the empty city streets, the headlights soon illuminated a solitary figure standing at the end of the road.
Hoshiguma tapped the brakes, pulling the car smoothly to a halt beside her.
Madam Fumizuki stood perfectly still, her serene gaze sweeping over the occupants of the vehicle. Under that quiet, maternal scrutiny, Ch’en, Swire, and Hoshiguma all subconsciously shrank back into their seats, lowering their heads like scolded children.
Finding the collective reaction fascinating, Flandre immediately hunched her shoulders and ducked her head, mimicking them perfectly.
Fumizuki’s elegant composure broke into mild amusement. “Why are you copying them?”
Flandre looked up, her crimson eyes wide and serious. “Flandre doesn’t know! Flandre saw them all doing it, so Flandre thought it was some kind of required ritual!”
“Pfft—” Swire slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. But the moment Fumizuki’s calm eyes shifted toward the backseat, the feline choked on her laughter, her entire face flushing a brilliant, terrified red.
“It is good that you are back,” Fumizuki said softly. “Is anyone injured?”
The three L.G.D. officers shook their heads so fast it was a blur, terrified that a second’s delay would result in a mandatory, excruciatingly thorough medical inspection.
“It is too late for a full report now. Tomorrow morning at eight, all of you will come to the Governor’s Mansion to explain exactly what happened tonight. Remember. Everyone must come.”
Fumizuki reached through the open window, gently pinching Flandre’s soft cheek. Without another word, she turned and walked toward her own waiting vehicle.
We’re doomed.
The three officers exchanged looks of pure dread. Ch’en completely lost the energy to argue with Swire.
“Eh? Madam Fumizuki said everyone has to go. Does that include Flandre too?” The little girl lacked the crushing fear of the adults, her voice bubbling with genuine curiosity.
“Probably,” Ch’en muttered, rubbing her temples.
“We’ll go together then,” Swire whispered, pulling Flandre close. “If Madam Fumizuki gets angry, Flandre, you just run up and hug her…”
“I think it’s best if we just come clean honestly,” Hoshiguma sighed, pulling the car back onto the road. She knew exactly how shrewd Wei Yenwu’s wife was; Swire’s little manipulative schemes were completely transparent to a woman like Fumizuki. “We were helping Flandre catch a bad guy. Even though Flandre did all the heavy lifting, our intentions were good.”
Given the late hour and the mandatory eight o’clock meeting, the group decided to crash at Flandre’s sprawling mansion. The estate was massive, with more than enough room to accommodate them all.
“I want to sleep with Flandre—”
Before Swire could finish her sentence, Ch’en locked her in a brutal headlock and dragged her down the hallway.
“Uh, I’ll just take the living room,” Hoshiguma said, looking around. Aside from Flandre’s master bedroom and the guest room Swire had claimed, the other rooms were entirely unfurnished.
“Won’t that be impolite?” Flandre tilted her head. Patchouli had once told her that a proper host must show sufficient etiquette to welcomed guests. Unwelcomed guests—like the black and white rats who snuck in to steal books—merely required a swift kick out the door.
“Of course not,” Hoshiguma laughed softly. “When I’m working back-to-back shifts, I sleep on the rigid iron bunks at the L.G.D. headquarters. This sofa of yours is incredibly soft. It’s perfect.”
The tall Oni dropped onto the plush cushions, sinking deeply into the fabric with a contented sigh.
Flandre trotted away and quickly returned, dragging a thick, fluffy blanket behind her.
“Thank you. Little Flandre is so good.” Hoshiguma took the blanket and draped it over her legs, reaching out to affectionately ruffle the girl’s blonde hair. “Go to sleep now. We have an early morning ahead of us.”
“See you in the morning, Big Sis Hoshiguma!” Flandre yawned, rubbing her eyes as she padded back to her room.
The sleep was painfully short. It was already past five by the time they closed their eyes. Even though the Governor’s Mansion was only a ten-minute drive away, they needed time to wash up and prepare. They barely managed two hours of rest.
When seven o’clock rolled around, none of them had the heart to wake the peacefully slumbering Flandre. Instead, they carefully dressed the limp, sleeping girl and carried her out to the car.
By the time Flandre finally fluttered her eyes open, she found herself resting comfortably in Madam Fumizuki’s lap.
A few feet away, Ch’en, Swire, and Hoshiguma were hunched over a heavy mahogany table, furiously writing out detailed reflection essays on their reckless actions.
Fumizuki already possessed a careful, second-by-second report from the Shadow Guards. The essays weren’t for gathering intelligence; they were a punishment designed to hammer a lesson into the officers’ heads. If Flandre hadn’t been so overwhelmingly powerful, or if she hadn’t reacted fast enough to pull Swire out of the blast radius, the L.G.D. would have lost three of its finest.
Reading the Shadow Guard’s brief had genuinely shaken both Fumizuki and Wei Yenwu. The Blood Fiend had been a creature of pure, ancient malice. If Flandre hadn’t sensed the trap, Wei Yenwu’s old friend might have lost the granddaughter he cherished above all else.
It was past ten in the morning when the exhausted trio finally stumbled out of the Governor’s Mansion, blinking against the harsh daylight.
Ch’en stretched her cramped fingers and looked down at the little girl walking beside them. “Flandre, come with us to the L.G.D. headquarters. We need to finish recording your official statement for the incident so we can close the case.”
Even though the Blood Fiend had been completely vaporized, leaving no corpse behind, the bureaucratic machine of Lungmen still demanded its paperwork.