- 11 -
"Tyki, all my clothes are from last season," Road said fretfully, looking through her wardrobe. "I don't like these unfashionable outfits anymore."
Tyki leaned against the door of Road's spacious closet, pretending to attentively examine her dresses. Girls sometimes got pretty melodramatic when choosing what to wear for reasons incomprehensible to Tyki. The way he saw it, the simplest solution was the most attractive, and it wasn't worth any trouble to overcomplicate matters.
"Well, pick a dress. What does it matter? You're not even going to a ball."
While Road rummaged through her closet, Tyki examined her bedroom. Besides a bed under pink lacy covers strewn with stuffed toys, Road surrounded herself with a variety of girly furniture: white-and-pink bedstands, chairs in fluffy upholstery, and a desk crammed with inkwells and pen holders shaped like pumpkins, flowers, and cute cats. Road's homework and textbooks were scattered on the floor, showing off ugly inkblots and strange doodles on the opened pages.
"How are things going at your school?" Tyki asked.
"I'm doing well except my math grade is bad. But you're worse at math than I am." Road scoffed. "Where did you even go to school?"
"I never attended a traditional school. Sheril and I were homeschooled, but I wasn't interested in studies and often skipped my lessons. As it turned out, Sheril was the clever one in our family."
"Well, duh! You've made so many mistakes in my homework that my teacher thought I signed up for the wrong class after summer holiday." Road span around on her heels, holding a blue dress in front of her. "I've made my choice. What do you think?"
"I never volunteered to do your math homework if you must know—"
"I'm talking about my dress. I don't really care about my math homework."
"Well, the dress is better than whatever I did with your math homework." Tyki grinned, spreading his hands.
"I'd appreciate a little seriousness from you."
"Why do you keep asking me about ladies' fashion?"
Road hesitated for a moment. "No, I want to know whether you like this dress."
"This dress is kind of cute. Happy?"
"Thanks, Tyki, for being kind of helpful." Road turned to the wall mirror, tilting her head to get a better view of the dress she pressed to her slim waist, and Tyki noticed that she made a dissatisfied grimace. "I'll see you at dinner."
Tyki left Road's bedroom through the wall. On the way to his room, he ran into Tricia who changed into an elegant but unpretentious light dress buttoned up to her neck. In her ears sparked a pair of small diamond earrings which, as Tyki assumed, Sheril gifted to her.
"I found Road," said Tyki, "but her new dress was ruined."
"Oh, it's such a pity. Why would that girl do such a thing? Sheril spent so much money on it. Now, it's all gone to waste." She buried her face in her trembling hands.
Tyki hurried to pass by her and headed upstairs.
Tyki and Sheril greeted their guests downstairs by the front door.
Madame Crawd, a middle-aged widow of a prominent judge, inherited substantial wealth following her father's and husband's passing and became a well-known socialite in Sheril's circle of friends and acquaintances. She knew everyone, gossiped about everything, stuck her nose into affairs that didn't concern her, and revered no one except the Millennium Earl.
Madame Crawd's appearance matched her vivacious character; tall, rosy-cheeked, and full-bosomed, she exuded verve in her gait, gestures, and winsome smiles. She always dressed impeccably and with coquettish modesty, following the latest fashion trends in dresses, hats, bonnets, shoes, and fur coats. On that day, she flaunted a dark-green dress from expensive satin that matched the color of her eyes and a pair of high-heeled shoes that better suited someone two decades younger.
Madame Crawd has proven herself useful to the Earl over the years, providing him with invaluable information on the weak, fallible, and power-hungry among the nobility, but despite her usefulness and eagerness, the Earl never elevated Madame Crawd to one of his Brokers because she was loose-tongued and scatterbrained. Instead, the Earl offered the honor to the minister of finance who accepted it and in the span of half a decade, had climbed up the ladder in the Earl's service to become one of his most trusted and loyal Brokers.
The power-hungry nobles were drawn to the Earl because he gave them what they craved the most in life in exchange for betraying the rest of humanity. Their rivals mysteriously disappeared, their financial fortunes soared, and they quickly gained favors with the most influential figures in high society. The Brokers didn't ask many questions, faithfully guarding the Earl's secrets and skeletons in the cupboard. They preferred not to know where their new-found fortunes and blessings came from.
The minister of finance went by the name of lord Orro. He was tall, thin as a rod, and there was something bird-like in his wrinkled face owing to the crooked nose and the penetrating stare of his small, gray eyes. He wore a dark suit and as a fashion accessory, carried a cane with an engraved silver handle shaped like a fish. The head of the fish resembled a sharp beak of a bird, giving off the impression that he could use the cane as a weapon.
Madame Crawd and lord Orro were well acquainted with each other and did not need a formal introduction.
Over dinner, which consisted of roasted duck, vegetables, and potatoes, accompanied by lavish desserts prepared by the Earl himself, Madame Crawd chattered incessantly about the news she deemed exciting, such as the recent engagement of her oldest daughter who didn't come with her to dinner on account of wedding preparations. Tyki felt a sense of overwhelming relief that entertaining her was no longer his chore.
"I'm delighted with her fiancé," Madame Crawd prattled on. "He is rich, handsome, and an absolute darling. A bit short, but low stature is hardly a vice. His parents are in the booming railroad business, so my daughter's future promises to be bright…"
She monotonously droned on, and Tyki's thoughts began to drift away from the conversation. Road sat across from him by the Earl's side and, picking at the contents of her plate with a fork, she seemed overcome with profound boredom. Tyki caught himself thinking that the blue dress looked really cute on her, as it perfectly matched the color of her eyes in her human form.
"At first, my daughter didn't want to marry him, but her affections for him grew over time. He's just so polite, a perfect gentleman!"
"I also heard good things about his family," added lord Orro's wife.
Tyki stifled a yawn and turned his head towards Madame Crawd's youngest daughter who timidly blushed and pretended to be fascinated by the fancy ornament on her plate.
"Isn't she pretty? And modest, too," Sheril whispered into his ear.
"You're married," remarked Tyki and helped himself to a piece of mouth-watering roasted duck.
"And marriage bonds prohibit me from appreciating her sensual beauty? I don't think so."
"Remind me why you needed to get married at all. I don't get you."
"For the sake of my adorable daughter Road, of course." His older brother winked at him.
"You're a real pain in the neck, Sheril."
"It's a shame that her sister is getting married. Weren't the two of you dating back in the day?"
"It wasn't anything serious. We had a bit of fun, and I'm not going to lose sleep because she's with some rich guy now."
Madame Crawd finally grew tired of talking about her daughters and fixed her eyes on Tyki. "I keep forgetting to ask where you've been all this time, Tyki. We haven't seen you for several years."
Tyki has grown weary of hearing the same question. "Here and there," he answered sharply.
"We missed you at our balls and soirees. And the poker games weren't the same without you."
"Anyone up for a game of poker later?" asked Sheril.
"I'll be overjoyed to join you." Madame Crawd beamed. Lord Orro reservedly nodded his head.
After dinner, Sheril invited them to the drawing room with golden walls and dark-red furniture for a game of poker over drinks. The room could seat more guests than the blue drawing room, and a large mahogany table better accommodated a poker game for four. The Earl and Road didn't play with them. Road sat in a deep armchair by the fireplace, tormenting a stuffed toy, but from time to time she glanced around the room as if to say that she paid attention to everything that was happening around her. Her dark, intent gaze sometimes lingered on Tyki.
"We're playing without the wilds," announced Sheril as he distributed the chips among them. Each of them received a tall stack of green, blue, and red chips of equal value. The red chips were rare and cost two to three times more than the rest, so players often saved them for last and began the game with a smaller bet made up of green and blue tokens.
Madame Crawd dealt the cards; she adroitly shuffled the deck, demonstrating considerable skill and practice, and placed two cards, face down, in front of everyone. Then she revealed to them the three common cards—a king of clubs, a ten of diamonds, and a five of spades.
Tyki took a swig of the red wine from his glass and raised the bet by a couple of green and blue chips before he even looked at his cards. He felt recklessly lucky that evening.
Madame Crawd peeked at her pair of cards and threw them onto the table. "I'll deal for you, but I'm out for the round."
"You always play safe, madame," said Sheril with a note of mockery in his voice.
"You know that I play to win."
"Too bad you rarely win by playing safe," said Tyki, deftly rolling a red chip across his knuckles. "And there's no thrill in a game with low stakes." He lifted the corners of his cards—he had a king and a jack of spades—and threw one red chip into the betting pile.
Lord Orro curled his thin mouth and added a red token of his own to the pile. Sheril followed his example. Tyki remembered that his brother bluffed well when his cards were shoddy or merely decent but could barely hide his glee when he had an excellent hand. Since Sheril appeared to be positively elated, Tyki supposed that he had a three of a kind.
Madam Crawd put aside one card and turned over a ten of hearts. Lord Orro grunted irritably and tossed aside his cards, announcing his surrender.
"It's just you and me now, little brother," said Sheril.
Tyki held Sheril's gaze without flinching. "I propose a raise," he said, pushing two blue chips towards the pile. Sheril agreed to the raise, evening out the stakes.
Road discarded the stuffed toy and ran up to Tyki, hoping to catch a glimpse of his cards. She stood on tiptoes and peered over his shoulder, but Tyki kept his cards face down on the table and refused to indulge Road's curiosity.
"Are you going to win big, Tyki?"
"Why do you care? You didn't want to play cards with us. But you're always welcome to join us if you change your mind."
"Yeah, I'm not really interested in card games." Road wrinkled her delicate nose as if to say that games which did not lead to someone's death were beneath her attention. "I'm just curious about your chances of winning."
Tyki stirred the wine in his glass and took slow, measured sips of it, watching Madame Crawd lift the top card, turn it over, and place it on the table. The wine from one of Sheril's most expensive collections had an exquisite taste—tart, with a delicate blend of sweet and sour.
"I like my chances." Tyki set the glass on the table. "I'm going all in."
Sheril could still win if he had a pair of tens, but his brother played too cautiously for that to be the case. Though they had lived apart for some years, Tyki was confident that his brother's habits hadn't changed much.
"I'll fold. What did you have?"
"Three kings," Tyki said smugly. "I bet you thought I was bluffing."
"I only had the tens. And I wasn't sure what cards you had on hand, to be honest."
Road settled in a chair next to Tyki. "Can I watch you play?"
"Sure, suit yourself," said Tyki, collecting the cards to shuffle the deck as it was his turn to deal.
After Tyki handed out the cards, Madame Crawd stole a glance at her hand, blew a flirtatious kiss to the Earl, and excused herself from the room. She said that it was getting late, and she needed to get home to take care of her sickly mother.
"She rarely plays in earnest," Sheril said dismissively. "Shall we continue?"
"And why is this girl still here?" Lord Orro spoke, pointing at Road with his cane. "It's not a proper place for her. She should wait with my wife and the other women."
Heavy silence hung in the room after lord Orro's words. No one moved besides Road who straightened to her deceptively unimposing height and dropped her human disguise of the fair-skinned, blue-eyed girl. The trusted Brokers were privy to some of the Noah family's secrets because these unfortunate souls were bound to serve the Earl by fear that treason would result in their swift downfall and death.
"I'm not just some girl, old coot." Road summoned a candle above her head, aiming its sharp end at lord Orro. "You don't get to order me around as you please."
She slashed the air with her palm, sending the candle flying towards the terrified man, and its pointy tip pierced the cushion of the chair between his legs.
Tyki clasped Road's shoulder. "Take it easy, Road. He's not worth the hassle of having to clean up blood spatter off the walls."
He snapped his fingers, and two purple butterflies emerged from his palm. When Tyki lived on the dark side, the Earl only had to say a word, and this man's life would be snuffed out like candle flicker in the wind. But the Earl sat motionless in his chair, refusing to give any orders.
Lord Orro shifted his gaze from the candle protruding a few inches away from his thighs to the butterflies flying in circles above his head and turned white as a sheet. The hapless Broker of human souls appeared to be stricken mute with fear and anger.
"That's enough, my darlings," the Earl spoke when the tension in the room has grown palpable. "Lord Orro is a valuable asset to us. He understands the error of his ways now, he-he. Isn't that right, lord Orro?"
"I-I… apologize for my rash words, Lord Millennium."
"You got lucky today, old man." Road dragged the stuffed toy back into the armchair and plopped down on top of it. "Next time my candle goes between your eyes."
No one was in the mood to play poker after the argument, and the conversation smoothly moved on to more pressing matters. Lord Orro nervously lit a cigar and, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his mouth, told them:
"Lord Millennium, I found out what I could about that item that piqued your curiosity. Unfortunately, only several people may know of its location. One of them is the Pope. Then there is General Cross Marian—"
"Cross is too elusive," objected the Earl. "He gave us the slip a couple of times. We'll deal with him later."
"Well, there is someone else. Malcolm Lvellier, the head of Central and the keeper of the Order's secrets. He also knows where your… item is."
"Lvellier is a fanatical servant of the Black Order," said Sheril. "He'll never give us this information unless we torture him. I'll happily do the honors of breaking his bones one by one."
"Capturing and torturing a high-ranking member of the Order will attract too much attention too soon. But I don't believe we'll be able to get what we need without making a little fuss."
"Lord Millennium, there is another way to go about retrieving your item," said the Broker. "Lvellier has a soft spot for a young prodigious Inspector from Vatican."
Tyki raised his eyebrows. "The Vatican's golden boy? A Howard-something or the other—"
"Yes, Inspector Howard Link," obligingly prompted lord Orro. "Lvellier seems quite attached to that young man. What you do with him is no concern of mine." He scratched his chin. "And I learned something else that might help you, my lord. The Order is transporting something valuable through this country. They will be passing through our city tomorrow. The only thing I know is that their coach will bear an identification mark shaped like a rose from the Order's emblem but without the cross. An exorcist will probably guard it."
"Thank you, lord Orro, you've been very helpful. You can leave now." The Earl dismissed the Broker who took a bow, looking grateful to be rid of their company.
"He's a slippery type," said Tyki, playing with the deck of cards.
"He's been loyal to me without fault," retorted the Earl, "and his information is generally trustworthy. It means I have a job for you, Tyki, my boy."
"Why is Tyki the only one who gets to have fun, Lord Millennium?" asked Road.
"Because the plan requires us to rely on his special abilities. He'll take Lero with him to travel quickly between places."
Tyki pulled a card from the deck at random—an ace of spades—and tapped it on the table. "I can guess what sort of job you'll have me do, Lord Millennium, but I was under the impression that I shouldn't parade my abilities around."
"Well, he's your old acquaintance, and I thought you should send him your warm greetings."
"The golden boy? I'm beginning to understand your devious plan, Lord Millennium."
"It's not nice to forget about friends, he-he."
Road giggled rapturously. "You're so kind and thoughtful, Millennie. Can I play with that Lvellier guy? I promise I'll be gentle with him."
"Everything has its time and place, Road," the Earl said, making a rapid gesture with his hand.
Several Akuma servants in white aprons entered the drawing room one after another as if they had been waiting for the special signal behind the door.
"It's seven o'clock, Master Tyki." The jester in the alarm clock uttered a high-pitched shriek. "It's time to wake up!"
The Earl imposed on Tyki with another annoying creature as a gift. The alarm clock—an hourglass shaped like a jester dressed in a motley costume and a yellow cap with bells—was one of his talking golems he created with his magic.
Tyki stuck both of his index fingers into his ears, but the clock's voice was so shrill and whiny that nothing helped drown it out.
"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, swiping the clock off the bedstand with the back of his palm.
"My lord," whimpered the jester-clock as it rolled under his bed.
Tyki reached under the bed and retrieved the clock, holding it upside down by its legs. "Will you stay quiet this time?"
"Yeah, but it's seven o'clo-o-o-ck!" The jester hit the wall with a thud and landed behind the dresser made from white oak wood. "Seven o'clock in the evening," he squeaked in a strangled voice.
Before heading out on the late-night mission, Tyki took an afternoon nap and woke up feeling a bit groggy. But after he shook off the remnants of sleep in a lukewarm bath, he was overwhelmed with excitement. The new job promised to be an awful lot of fun if the exorcists could put up a spirited resistance and pose a decent challenge to him. It was an opportunity to prove himself to the Earl and erase from his memory all previous blunders. If nothing else, seeing that familiar expression of terror and helplessness on the exorcist's face right before his life was cut short would entertain him a little. What did these humans think about right before their deaths?
Tyki never contemplated death at length, but when he lived on the dark side, these thoughts haunted and nagged him without any conscious effort on his part.
Thinking about the upcoming battle against the exorcists, Tyki adjusted his necktie and put on a pair of white gloves and an ironed black jacket as though he prepared to attend a ball. He wore the same pants as last night, and to his surprise, in his left pocket he discovered a lone card he must have forgotten to put back into the deck. The irony of finding it under the circumstances wasn't lost on him.
Road gently tapped on the door—she brought Lero with her and opened one of her dimensional portals for him.
"Try to stay out of trouble this time," she said at parting. "And don't lose Lero, or I'll be mad at you."
"You heard Mistress Road." Lero popped up behind his shoulder. "I expect you'll return me to my master without a scratch on me. And if you mistreat me, I'll complain—"
Tyki span around and put his top hat over Lero's head. Lero began thrashing about from side to side.
"I can't see anything, lero!"
"If you keep talking, I'll make a hat stand out of you."
"Mistress Road, I don't want to go with Tyki."
Road chased after Lero, laughing, until the golem crashed into a wall, fell, and tried to crawl out from under the heavy hat. She gripped the umbrella by his black handle with both hands and tugged at him, but Lero slipped out of her fingers and, with his tongue hanging out from fatigue, fled towards the ceiling.
"My job is so stressful, lero…"
"Indeed, being useless is a very tiring task," said Tyki. "All right, let's go before the Earl gets angry with us."
Road handed him the top hat. "I want Lero back in one piece," she said, watching him hoist the umbrella over his shoulder.
"I promise you that nothing is going to happen to your umbrella on my watch."
Tyki stepped through Road's door and walked out onto the ridge of a steep roof.
His hometown sprawled under his feet, ablaze with electrical and kerosene streetlights. Sheril raved about replacing all lights in the mansion with electrical bulbs that didn't emit smoke. Tyki sat down on the edge of the roof, dangling his legs over the precipice. Here, above the smoke and the glow of light, myriads of cold, bright stars were seen twinkling curiously amidst shaggy clouds.
Tyki fished a pack out of his pocket and lit a cigarette, covering the feeble flame with his palm. Time hung heavy, and the universe stood utterly still, as if expecting something earthshattering to happen. While Tyki sat on the roof, smoking, the street below gradually became desolate, and the dead autumn twilight settled over the buildings and the moving carriages, and the rare passersby. Sparse silver snowflakes began falling from the overcast sky, melting before they reached the pavement. A small carriage rushed past the building and receded from view, turning the corner. A pair of policemen in blue uniforms idly patrolled the street, stopping at the intersections to warm themselves by rubbing their hands together and stomping their feet.
"These humans are so clueless," said Lero, bobbing his head. "They could be a nuisance, lero."
"I have very little patience if they decide to get in my way," replied Tyki.
"I can distract their attention and lure them away from here."
"If you get captured, I'll have to break you out of jail because I made a promise to Road." Clenching the cigarette between his teeth, Tyki grabbed Lero by his thin neck and shook him from side to side. "So don't get caught. Got it?"
"I'll be careful, lero," wheezed the golem, and Tyki let go of him.
Lero floated through the air across the street towards the unsuspecting policemen. It was difficult not to notice a flying pink umbrella. One of the policemen began pointing a finger at Lero, and the other blew into his whistle with all the might of his lungs. A rather comedic and chaotic scene ensued. The policemen took turns, jumping to get a grip on Lero's handle, but the umbrella kept eluding them, now descending low to smack one of them on the forehead, now soaring beyond their reach.
"Stop, you fiendish thing!" the policeman yelled while his partner overstrained himself with loud whistling. "Get him!"
Tyki regretted that Road couldn't witness the scene and cheer for Lero. 'She would have had such a blast,' he thought with a grin.
Lero ascended into the air and led the policemen away into the side alley. The men raced after him, and soon Tyki couldn't make out any of them. The clock in the distance struck midnight, the echo of its chimes muffled by the wailing of the strong wind that chilled to the bone.
After about half an hour of uneventful waiting, Lero soundlessly reappeared behind Tyki's shoulder.
"These humans won't bother us again," the golem informed him. "They're running in circles around a square."
"Well done, Lero," said Tyki and jumped off the building.
The air swished in his ears; everything was a blur for a moment before he landed on one knee, hunching his shoulders and touching the pavement with both palms. The street was empty. Tyki approached a lamppost and threw the cigarette stump under his feet. He could hear the rumble of the heavy carriage, the uneven clanking of hooves, and the occasional neighing. After the awakening, his senses became particularly acute when he focused his attention on something.
The enormous carriage emerged from the gloom like a horse-drawn monstrosity. Three pairs of chestnut stallions ran in front of it. Its wheels were the height of an average man, and the ground trembled underneath it. It had two doors on each side, and in the light of the twin lanterns swaying on both sides of the coachman's seat, Tyki saw the emblem which the Broker described to them. The Akuma following the carriage must have fallen back by then.
When the carriage was a short distance away from him, closing in at full speed, Tyki fearlessly stepped in front of it. The coachman automatically pulled the reigns, but the first pair of horses didn't have the time to react, ramming through Tyki without disturbing the coattails of his jacket. The horses in the back bucked. The harness strained when the first horse tripped and fell on its hind legs, and the stallion behind it reared and collapsed, dragging the rest of the horses with it. The carriage overturned with a terrible squealing noise and rattling of wheels, and Tyki was buried underneath the wreckage for an instant. The cabin of the carriage would have been dragged through him by the thrashing horses that struggled to free themselves from the leather straps and scatter every which way, if he didn't bend his knee to touch the floor with his hand.
When Tyki made his arm tangible, the carriage was ripped apart around him as though it had hit a steel rod at high speed. The plush seats and the carpeted floors were torn in half, the roof cracked. The spinning wheel broke where Tyki's arm passed through it, the remnants of the metal rim tearing through the axle arm like a lash. Skidding across the pavement, the cabin crashed into the lamppost which fell on top of it. The horses with intact legs calmly wandered down the street.
The coachman was thrown out of his seat during the crash and lay motionless by the lamppost with his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. The exorcist who guarded the carriage was still alive. Lugging his injured leg behind him and grunting, he climbed from under the debris and activated his Innocence which took the shape of a large flaming bow.
"Who are you?" he addressed Tyki.
"I'm your worst nightmare." A wide, manic grin contorted Tyki's face. He could barely contain himself. The Noah inside of him remembered the sweet pleasure of hunting, killing, and quenching the bloodthirst, and he gave in to these feelings wholly when he lived on the dark side.
The exorcist drew the string of his bow and shot an arrow at him. Tyki summoned Teez from his right arm and made a star-shaped shield out of it for protection. The arrow shattered against the hard surface into a shower of blue sparks, and Tyki staggered backwards from the force of impact to regain his lost balance.
"Your Innocence looks impressive," he mocked the exorcist, releasing a swarm of butterflies from his left palm. "You're not as weak as the exorcist I killed before you, I'll give you that. Maybe you can keep me entertained before I kill you, too."
The butterflies surrounded the man from all sides until Tyki couldn't see even an inch of his body under the mass of crawling critters, but he didn't lose his composure. Three smaller arrows pierced the living shroud in different directions, and a wave of searing light drove the butterflies away. Several of them turned to weightless purple ash. The exorcist emerged from the cocoon bloodied but mostly unscathed.
"Oh, you managed to prevent Teez from eating you alive." Tyki leapt into the air and from the lamppost, which leaned askew against the wreckage of the carriage, sized up his foe with an amused smile.
The exorcist lowered himself on one knee, drew the taught string all the way to his ear, aimed carefully, and set the arrow loose. Tyki dashed out of the way with lightning speed, and the arrow flew by Tyki, scorching his jacket and knocking down his top hat. The exorcist realized too late that Tyki was within striking distance. In his arm appeared a double blade from Dark Matter. The exorcist instinctively raised his bow to defend himself from the strike, and Tyki's weapon cut through the grip. The bow broke into pieces, and a small crystal of Innocence rolled under the wreckage.
"I'd hate to cut short our first conversation, but it's the end of the road for you, exorcist," said Tyki, thrusting his arm deep into the body of the wounded enemy. He moved his hand freely inside his chest, inflicting no pain on him yet. "It's regrettable, really."
It began to dawn on the exorcist that he was about to die. He tried to push Tyki away, but his hand passed through Tyki's shoulder as though he were empty air.
"No, please stop…"
The expression of shock, terror, and disgust on his face stirred complicated feelings in Tyki, but gratification overpowered the rest of them. Tyki ripped out the exorcist's sternum and left him to suffocate on his own blood. After the gurgling sounds had ceased, Tyki fetched an ace of spades—the Death Card—from his pocket and placed it accurately in the middle of the exorcist's chest by the hole in his ribcage.
The Earl will be happy with his handiwork.
"Lero, I've got another job for you." Tyki outstretched his arm, and the umbrella dove into his palm.
"What sort of job?"
Tyki picked up the Innocence shard, tossed it high up in the air, swung Lero as if he were a baseball bat and hit his target. It shattered on impact, and green sparks cascaded all around him, fading into the darkness.
"My head is spinning, lero!"
"Stop complaining and open the portal. Our work is here is done."
A huge purple pentacle appeared on the pavement. Tyki began sinking into the Ark's portal when a bright silver gleam in the corner of his vision caught his attention, and he stepped out of its bounds.
"What are you doing, Tyki?" squeaked Lero. "Hurry up!"
"Just give me a moment, will you?"
The moonlight was playing on a round silver button on the dead exorcist's coat. Tyki tore off the button and, twiddling it in his fingers, smirked darkly.
Eez would be happy to receive a souvenir from his hometown as a gift.
Intermission
*The curtain falls*
Akuma #1 (Level Three): Our new Noah Master is a slave driver. As the shift supervisor, I must bring this deplorable fact to your attention, Lord Millennium, because workplace morale has reached a new low.
Akuma #2 (Level Two): There are rumors afloat in the kitchens that he ordered one of us to self-destruct.
Akuma #3 (Level One): All Level Ones are terrified of him! He made us sweep all floors on the lower level of the Ark because his coffee wasn't as strong as he had ordered.
Akuma #1: I keep receiving transfer requests from the kitchens to the field. It's unprecedented. The field jobs are much more dangerous for us.
Millennium Earl: Tyki, my boy! ❤
Tyki: What's the matter, Lord Millennium?
Millennium Earl: I received numerous complaints about your treatment of our staff. What do you have to say to these accusations?
Tyki: Oh, I cannot be worse than Road or Skinn. I've seen Skinn beat an Akuma with his bare hands because his meat dish wasn't sweet.
Millennium Earl: I've heard complaints about your behavior, my boy. Try getting unmotivated and depressed Akuma to do their jobs. They become useless.
Tyki: Can Akuma feel depressed?
Millennium Earl: Of course, they can, he-he. There's still a human soul attached to that metal carcass. ❤ In any case, is it true that you forced one of my Akuma to blow up?
Tyki: My apologies, Lord Millennium, but I gotta run. Catch you later!
Millennium Earl: One day I'll have to teach that boy some respect for the elders.
*The curtain rises*