Chapter 69 Chapter 69 It was a picture as dark as bronze...

All of this was reflected in the lifeless eyes of the dark-skinned, white-hatted Middle Eastern man. With a clang, the spike protruding from his chest was retracted, and Farhad slid limply to the ground.

The assassin who had pursued him across the Atlantic had completed his mission. Elio breathed a sigh of relief and covered Farhad's eyes. It was the only and final act the assassin performed for the man he had slain. But just as Elio was about to stand and leave, a half-broken card emerged from the pool of blood beneath Farhad's body.

It was a card with a hue as dark as bronze.

Elio only had time to see a little bit: the portrait on the card seemed to be holding a knife that gleamed with cold light; but more details were obscured by Farhad's blood. When Elio tried to pick up the card to see what it was—it was surprisingly cold and hard, with a weight far beyond what a card should have. Elio almost thought he was picking up a life that was doomed to die—the card suddenly turned into green fragments at his fingertips, as if blown by the wind, rising and rising, and finally dissipating in the air like stars.

“…What is this?” Elio murmured.

He realized it was an extraordinary magical power. A magic card. But it wasn't what the assassin had suspected.

"Seriously?" the Ring cried out. "You just touched a magical object you didn't even know what it was?"

Elio had dismissed it, as usual—he hadn't known it was a magical item before he touched it!

But unlike usual, the Ring hadn't spoken since he returned ten years ago. It was so quiet that it seemed as if it had never spoken before. Elio had suspected this for a long time; but this wasn't the main reason why Elio paid attention to it this time. The real reason was—

"That is wonderful," said the Ring, rather disgruntled. "Another magical bauble has come to you for no apparent reason. You must tell it to go away, brother, if it is speaking to you! Tell it that you have the most amazing magical ring in the world!"

"Seriously?" Elio asked, imitating the Lord of the Rings' tone. "You called me 'brother'?"

This was the real reason why Elio paid it any attention. The Ring's attitude had changed drastically, and Elio was quite suspicious of it. Its tone sounded more like a pet vying for position in the family than a captive magical tool trying to become its master's master—well, it sounded similar—but if the Ring was trying to confuse him with its change of attitude, the assassin felt he had to be on his guard.

"Well, well," the Ring admitted reluctantly, "I know there was a misunderstanding, but man—"

"'Dude'?"

"—the swiftest and most deadly assassin in the world!" The Ring changed his tone smoothly, "But it was just some petty verbal disputes, and it never escalated to the level it should not have, my dear."

Excellent. Elio rolled his eyes. The ring had even learned to call him "darling," and the assassin's skin crawled, like he'd accidentally jumped onto a streetlight while being chased by a platoon of guards.

"The most crucial issue now is the card you touched," said the ring. "You must find a way to get rid of it."

This was one of the reasons why Elio communicated with it. He twisted his fingers, and the assassin's eyes and fingers confidently reported that the card had disappeared, but an intuition told Elio more strongly that it was still there.

And it depends on Elio.

"Constantine really should teach you more about magic," the ring muttered, "but it's not too late for you to call him now. I guess it's because this unfortunate guy died at your hands that the game was inherited by you, and you happen to be a magical genius..."

Elio ignored it. He'd already heard the bodyguard's question about Farhad's safety, and he'd pushed the button to open the French window. Dust danced across the horizon, and a gust of wind whistled in, rustling the air. The paper and pencil ornaments on the desk danced through the air, and the small green leather sofa slid back in unison. The bodyguard, who was on the in-room radio, heard only the clattering and clanging of the room's speakers.

"Assassins!" they shouted.

The assassin's black hair flew amidst the shouting and the howling wind, especially as he walked, step by step, toward the French window, braving the wind. From here, he could clearly see sand, sand, and more sand. The sandstorm had arrived. But Elio simply stared calmly below, putting on the goggles clipped to the collar of his white jacket and pulling up his hood, which had been blown away by the wind.

"…But you seem to be busy now," the Ring muttered and closed its mouth, "I will not disturb you for now."

Elio opened his arms and jumped down.

The dust roared wildly, intimidating this tiny human who dared to challenge the majesty of nature; but like a weathered eagle, the assassin swooped down without hesitation or resistance. In the golden environment of the dust, the snow-white bird in the sky turned silkily and finally landed with a precise plop on the prepared haystack.

No one noticed this corner.

No one noticed the cart of fluffy, fine hay in such a gray, ochre-colored alley, and no one noticed the assassin who jumped out of it.

Just as the assassin hadn't noticed the extra card in his pocket—almost. There was a snap, and Elio froze, groping in his pockets, hoping it wasn't the grenade pull tab that had knocked it off; but he soon realized it was a new card.

Elio pulled the shattered card from his trouser pocket. The blurred figure held aloft a blank golden crown, cracked right down the middle. Before Elio could examine it, it dissipated into the air again, carried away by the dust.

The sandstorm stopped.

The vendors with colorful felt carpets and makaba carvings reopened as usual. The sweet and sour aroma of roselle tea diluted the summer heat. The old man in a headscarf stir-fried the tender and juicy beef, mutton and liver on the red-hot volcanic rocks, sprinkling cumin and lime juice on them.

Almost everyone was covered in dust, yet they were bustling with activity. Elio, equally dusty, brushed off the straw, but he had no way to stop the dust that kept blowing up in the wind, so he simply ignored it. He bought a whole roasted Nile perch, and the stall owner generously sprinkled it with a variety of spices the assassin couldn't name, mumbling something. When Elio finally left the stall, he found himself holding not only the whole, fragrant roasted perch wrapped in old newspaper, but also a small bag of flatbread called "kisla" and a cup of purple-red roselle tea.

No one could say it wasn't a good dinner. Elio quickly became cheerful, eating and strolling around like any American tourist who had come across the ocean, enjoying this rare moment of undisturbed time.

By the time Elio walked out of the street again, the plump, boneless grilled fish and Kisla sourdough bread had been completely devoured by the assassin, and the cup of purple-red flower tea in his hand was only half full. Newly purchased gadgets filled every pocket of Elio's overalls, roselle tea bags sitting next to bandages. A small red agate trinket that had been tucked into the pile of throwing knives jingled in protest, and Elio finally had to put it back next to his mask.

Maybe a few gum arabic candies had accidentally rolled into the smoke bombs, but Elio was too busy to worry about it. More importantly, he found another card while rummaging around in his pockets.

“…It’s changed again,” Elio muttered.

It was still a turquoise card, and the image was still blurry, but Elio's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the gold coins scattered in the hands of the kneeling figure. Unlike the dull turquoise background, they seemed to gleam with an incomparable golden light...

Click.

When Elio's finger touched the gold coin, the card also shattered. Like the previous card of the crown bearer, it dissipated into the air.

·

"They're all gone?" Constantine confirmed. "Just gone?"

"They're all gone," Elio confirmed. "I'm sure of that. I'm also sure I'm clear-headed and don't have any memory loss."

Constantine raised an eyebrow. "Never woke up to find yourself standing over a dead body with a knife for no apparent reason?"

"No," Elio said. "I'm always sober at those times."

"...I won't ask why you 'always' show up at those kinds of events." Constantine casually dragged over an ashtray and placed his phone on it. "So, what details do you remember about that card? Think carefully, and I'll find relevant records for you."

Elio dug into his pockets. "What details do you need?"

Constantine didn't see him move. The master of the dark arts briefly left the camera's view, and then a dusty ancient tome appeared, pressed between Constantine's fingers. He blew away the dust from the cover, and Elio, far away from the camera, instinctively stepped back; the old yellowed pages rustled, and the assassin only caught a fleeting glimpse of strange images.

Could they be real? Elio wondered.

"Yes, it's right here. In the Middle East, Arabia," Constantine muttered without even looking up. "That place is full of curses. It's not a good place... Elio, I need every detail you can remember, but you have to be very sure of them."

"I'm pretty sure I have all the details you need."

"Are you sure?" Constantine absentmindedly checked the record entries that might match. "If I were you, I wouldn't say that. Whether it's magic or curses, they are quite delicate things and there can't be any mistakes. I know such a fool. He bit his tongue while reciting a spell, and the thing he summoned swallowed him whole."

“I’m sure, John,” Elio said. “But could you, just, look up at the camera?”

Constantine's blue eyes were practically glued to the book. He reluctantly looked up, then froze when he realized what he was looking at. Elio and the turquoise card he was holding were staring at him silently.

But unlike the previous three cards, this one features a second person, and between their intertwined limbs sits a golden, radiant heart.

"…Oh," Constantine said dryly, "So you found the fourth card. Great."

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The author has something to say: I was planning to write another game here and bring out some original characters to play with, but the editor said that this game can't be written... I'm very sorry to delete the original characters' appearance ideas.

But Oreo, you can still play this ancient magic card set [thumbs-up]

(Oreo: I didn't say I wanted to play.jpg)

P.S. I modified it after posting it. I folded three Oreo cards in this chapter~