"According to the rules, evidence is not part of the spoils for distribution," Major Aud began.
"No one is to touch it until we get confirmation from upstairs."
"Understood," everyone said in unison.
Richard felt a slight pang of disappointment.
Mrs. MacNeil’s words from last night, "You can learn, if you’re interested," were still ringing in his ears.
Now, a genuine article was right in front of him, and it had to be handed over.
But he also understood that these were the rules, and he couldn’t force the issue.
The Spirit Medium took a second batch of items from the leather case.
This batch was in glass jars, each one glowing with a different light under the lamp.
"These are the things the Unyielding Pit left for us from this mission."
She pushed the first glass jar to the center of the table.
Inside the jar was a handful of dark gray stone fragments. The particles were small, and the edge of each one had cracks, making them look as if they had been repeatedly folded and flattened.
"Sinking Sound Stone," the Spirit Medium introduced.
"These are shavings scraped from the outer ring of the Nine-Layered Stone Ring. They’ve been steeped in death-sounds for years, rewriting the Ether structure of the stone itself."
"This type of stone fragment doesn’t circulate on the market at all.
The Branch Office performs maintenance twice a year, in spring and autumn, and we’re lucky to collect even this small amount."
Mr. Hutton let out a soft "hmm" from the side.
The old gentleman’s fingers, which were holding his teacup, paused for a moment beside the glass jar of Sinking Sound Stone.
Major Aud handed the jar of Sinking Sound Stone directly to Mr. Hutton.
The old gentleman didn’t refuse. He took the jar, kept a quarter for himself, and distributed some to the two Sealing Masters and Mrs. MacNeil.
The Spirit Medium pushed a second glass jar forward.
Inside this jar was a handful of extremely fine, silver-gray sand.
The color of the sand seemed to flow under the lamplight. When tilted to the left, a faint layer of silvery-white would rise to the surface; when tilted to the right, it would sink back down.
"Dangling Star Sand."
"The area around the Unyielding Pit corresponds to the phenomenon of the hanging stars."
"On the surface, the Place Where Stars Hanging usually manifests as a kind of ’top-down suspension’.
Its products also carry this sense of ’suspension.’"
"The sand itself can’t be used for combat, but it’s a supplementary material for advanced Divination.
It can be mixed into the base of a Crystal Ball, the needle of a Star Disc, or the sealing paste for Tarot Cards."
"Additionally, it can be used to nurture certain Marvels related to ’dangling,’ ’inversion,’ and ’Reflection.’"
She glanced over at Major Aud.
The Major’s index finger tapped twice on the tabletop.
"Set aside two grams for the public account."
"Distribute the rest according to contribution."
The Spirit Medium acknowledged and twisted open the lid of the glass jar.
Using a tiny copper spoon, she divided the handful of silver-gray sand into seven portions on the tabletop.
The three largest portions went to Major Aud, Winterworth, and herself, respectively.
Mr. Hutton, Lady Mod, and Mr. Spence each received a smaller portion.
The final, smallest portion was pushed toward Richard.
"This one’s for you."
Richard gathered the small pinch of sand from the tabletop.
After a word of thanks, he carefully wrapped the sand in oil paper and placed it in his shoulder bag.
"Next up is the Ether Condensate."
Mrs. MacNeil took out several smaller porcelain jars.
"Two high-purity condensates left after the Answering Head was broken apart.
Seven medium-concentration condensates left after the ’Harmony’ and ’Finale’ members of the Answering Group were dispersed, and a number of low-concentration condensates left by the Fog Shadow riot."
She handed the right to distribute this batch to Major Aud.
The Major’s method of distribution was direct.
Of the two high-purity pieces, one went to Mrs. MacNeil (for nurturing her Spirit Lodging Artifacts), and the other went into the Branch Office’s public account.
The seven medium-concentration pieces were distributed to everyone present according to their contribution.
The pile of low-concentration pieces was converted to cash as a field-duty subsidy.
Richard also received one medium-concentration condensate and three pounds from the cash conversion.
The condensate was wrapped in oil paper. It was slightly smaller than a longan fruit, cool and heavy to the touch.
"I’ve taken note of your contribution."
Major Aud spoke his first words to Richard today as he pushed the piece of condensate in front of him.
Richard was about to speak.
The Major raised a hand to silence him, signaling, ’Let me finish first.’
"Under standard attrition clauses, the sacrifice of a Practitioner-Level Hunter is considered an acceptable loss within the system."
The Major’s steel prosthetic limb made a soft CLINK on the tabletop.
"But on a personal level, the fewer who die, the better."
"That injection of yours pulled Winterworth back from the brink.
Otherwise, given last night’s situation, we would have had to sign another set of condolence papers at today’s debriefing."
Winterworth nodded from the other side of the table.
"We will file a record of your contribution. In the future, whatever you need, whoever you need to find, whatever information you need to look up, the Branch Office will give you the green light."
"The Branch Office has an internal procurement line."
Mrs. MacNeil added from the side:
"It’s tied to the inventory list of the Northern Branch Office Headquarters, exclusively for registered Practitioners and apprentices."
"Any Casting Mediums needed for teaching, training, or practical combat drills can be requested through this line.
The prices are based on market rates—not cheap, but not expensive either."
"The key is the source... Every herb, every mineral, every drop of reagent is appraised by the Headquarters before being stocked. You can use whatever you get with confidence."
"Thank you, everyone," Richard said gratefully.
An internal Branch Office procurement line—this benefit was a direct channel for resources.
Out on the black market, there was no telling how many traps you might fall into.
Going through official channels might be a hassle, but a ’hassle’ was always better than a ’trap’.
Mr. Hutton gave a soft cough.
"By rights, the meeting should conclude here."
The old gentleman turned his gaze to the Major.
"But that diagram..."
Major Aud’s face darkened.
"On that matter, we wait for a reply from Manchester City."
The Major pressed his right hand onto the tabletop.
"Until we get approval from Manchester City, everyone keeps a tight lip.
Do not spread word of what happened last night. Do not discuss it in private. Do not write about it in any unencrypted documents."
"Yes, sir," everyone said in unison.
"Dismissed."
Richard stood up.
He glanced over at Xiaoma.
The kid, a recent military academy graduate, was still sitting on a chair in the corner, his eyes vacant.
Richard hesitated, but in the end, said nothing.
’It wasn’t his place, as a near-stranger, to say anything.’
He turned and walked toward the conference room door.
As he reached the door, Winterworth called out from behind him.
"Richard, I have something for you."
Richard stopped, and the two of them walked further down the third-floor corridor.
At the end of the corridor was a room with the number "307" inlaid in the center of its wooden door with copper nails.
Winterworth pushed the door open.
The room’s furnishings were simple.
A desk, a file cabinet, and a glass cabinet in the corner.
Inside were a dagger with an extremely thin blade and an Old Pocket Watch, half of it scorched by fire.
On the desk lay several unfinished documents. The title on the top one read, "Supplemental Survivor’s Benefit Application."
Winterworth didn’t let him look at the desk for long.
The Inspector team leader pulled a palm-sized wooden box from the bottom compartment of the file cabinet.
He placed the wooden box on the desk and lifted the lid.
Inside was a revolver.
Richard’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gun.
This gun was different from his police-issue Webley. The barrel was shorter and thicker than a Webley’s, and its black gun-blued finish had a muted matte sheen under the light.
A very fine silver thread was inlaid around the six chambers of the cylinder.
The grip was made of dark brown hardwood, with a small silver stud embedded at the very end.
The silver stud was positioned to press against the base of the user’s palm.
A line of Latin was engraved on the side of the barrel.
Richard read it aloud.
"...Ebenum (Black Ebony)."

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