Building A of the Ballet Tower, outside the emergency power room.
"Mm, mm… Got it. We'll take care of ourselves."
After finishing the last bit of communication, Phaga lowered his hand from the earpiece.
Seeing this, Ellen quickly grabbed his sleeve and asked anxiously, "How are they?"
Phaga's heart softened. He took Ellen's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, they're fine. Rina even had time to tease us for being too slow. They've already started working, and we've only just reached the emergency power room."
Ellen let out a long breath of relief.
That loud explosion earlier had really shaken her. Though she'd believed deep down that Lycaon and the others were probably fine, still—what if? Until she got confirmation, her heart had hung in suspense, full of worry. Now that she'd heard everyone was safe, the weight finally lifted from her chest.
She quickly composed herself, then pinched Phaga's hand in mock annoyance. "It's your fault. You were carrying me and still walking so slowly—we got overtaken because of you."
"…Ha ha."
Seeing Ellen pull her usual trick of shifting the blame, Phaga didn't even try to argue. He just laughed and turned to walk ahead.
Ellen's face flushed when he didn't respond. She bit her lip and shot him a fierce glare. But what could she do? Glaring wouldn't make him turn back so she could bite him.
Sulking, she followed behind, sneaking glances at him now and then, waiting for a chance when he might lower his guard.
Of course, the moment her teeth touched him, he'd notice. But by then, it would already be too late—he'd just sigh, let her bite, and indulge her as always. As long as she didn't bite too hard, he wouldn't get mad enough to retaliate later.
Still… being bitten by a vampire might not be so bad either.
Ellen unconsciously licked her lips. A cool breeze brushed past from the window, snapping her back to reality. She realized she'd fallen behind and hurried to catch up.
Hearing her footsteps, Phaga glanced back. Noticing her flushed cheeks, he chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Ellen, at least stay alert. Rina said the last doll might be on our side."
Ellen puffed her cheeks, nudging his shoulder. "Rina told you that. I didn't know."
Then, muttering under her breath, she added, "Seriously, I joined Victoria Housekeeping before you did. Why'd she contact you and not me?"
"Because of the glorious reputation you've built over the years, Senior."
Phaga smirked. "You don't even read the mission plans. Did you really expect Rina to trust you to remember her intel?"
"Hmph!"
Ellen turned her head away and declared proudly, "Well, looks like Rina's intel is useless anyway! We haven't seen a single doll so far!"
"That's true…"
Phaga affectionately ruffled her hair, then turned his attention toward the emergency power room. The wide, empty space contained several intact anti-corrosion generators.
"As expected of the Ballet Tower—after all these years, these generators still work."
After a quick inspection, Phaga couldn't help but sigh in admiration. But soon, his eyes narrowed.
Because of his monocle, Ellen immediately noticed the change in his expression. "Found something?" she asked.
"The Ether batteries were removed—deliberately."
Phaga's eyes glinted red before he even realized it. Through his Vampiric Sight, he could see that the layer of Ether Substance atop the generators was unusually thin compared to the dense Ether concentration in the surrounding air.
That meant the batteries had been taken recently. In fact… they'd been removed on purpose—to target Phaga and his team.
Phaga stood, fingers tracing the surface of a generator as his gaze shifted toward a certain direction. "Then the sudden power outage at the Ballet Tower wasn't an accident—it was planned."
"Targeting Victoria Housekeeping?"
Phaga frowned, resting his chin on his hand. Too many possibilities ran through his mind—his vampire identity, the fourteen-million commission, even matters related to Rain… Each one made sense.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as the tension grew.
Then warmth spread through his palm. Turning, he saw Ellen holding his hand, her fingers interlacing with his as she lifted it to her cheek. Her warmth brushed against his skin, soft and trembling.
Their heartbeats seemed to slow time itself. Neither knew how long they stayed like that. Ellen only knew her lips were dry. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah."
Phaga nodded gently, gazing at her as a quiet warmth filled his chest. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
But then, he slipped his hand free, turned away, and brushed imaginary dust from his eyes, forcing a bright tone. "Heh, never thought I'd be the one getting comforted by you."
"Hey!" Ellen protested, her tail slapping the floor. "Is it so embarrassing to be comforted by your Senior?"
"Kind of… Anyway, Miss Ellen, hands down. Work first! We've got Victoria Housekeeping's reputation to uphold."
Though she knew he was just changing the subject, Ellen's little act of feigned anger had clearly worked—Phaga raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Hmph." She gave a short snort, then finally lowered her giant scissors. "Fine. You know where the Ether batteries were taken, right?"
"Of course."
Phaga's crimson eyes gleamed with confidence. No matter how carefully someone tried to cover their tracks, every path left traces—especially since their opponent wasn't exactly a professional.
The dust might've been neatly swept, but the Ether concentration told another story. Just like a footprint leaves a thinner layer of dust, an area stepped upon always shows a paler hue in a vampire's vision.
Following that faint trail, Phaga led them through several turns until they arrived.
But as they reached the door, Phaga suddenly stopped.
Ellen tilted her head, nudging his back. "What is it?"
Phaga hesitated, then let out a low laugh. "I take back what I said earlier."
He stared at the tightly locked door, sensing the thick Ether concentration within, and chuckled.
"They're not unprofessional—they're too professional."
With that, Phaga stepped forward and turned the handle.
The door creaked open.
Right by the entrance lay several stacked Ether batteries—and the corpses of a few men in rebel uniforms.
Farther inside, a dining table sat in the middle of the room. Upon it was a damp doll. A line ran straight down its center—black on the left, white on the right.
Phaga and Ellen stepped inside, shaking their heads at the grim sight.
"These guys were real professionals."
"They died once just to lure us to our deaths."
"They knew we'd have to come in for the Ether batteries."
"But still…"
Phaga slipped off his coat. His wings flared wide, and the parasol in his hand snapped open into a blade, its edge glowing with violet light.
Beside him, Ellen hefted her giant scissors onto her shoulder, her heel tapping sharply against the floor.
"If we win this fight," Phaga said coolly, "then all your deaths will have been for nothing."