What's your name?

I asked myself.

It's Federico.

My mind answered.

No, that's not right.

I objected.

What do you mean? Our name has always been Federico from the moment we were born.

My mind talked back.

I know, but something isn't right.

I tried to look at myself in the mirror.

My hair, my eyes, my nose, my mouth and even the scar on my elbow, they were all mine.

Then why didn't you accept the fact that you were Federico?

The reflected image of me in the mirror smiled brightly.

No! That wasn't my smile!

I became furious and argued with "that person".

My smile was never bright like him.

I cut my hand, "that person" in the mirror cut his hand too.

My hand is bleeding, so is his hand.

"Who are you?"

Who am I?

"We are Federico."

You are Federico.

"I love myself more than anything in this world."

Yet I hated Federico more than anything in my life.

So, what was my name again?

"That person" watched me with those familiar sad eyes, as if I was the most pathetic person he had ever seen.

You are my ■■■■■■■.

Oh, I remembered.

"You never failed to make me feel agitated."

I sat on the ground and let out a tired sigh.

Let's meet again tomorrow, Federico.

—--------

7:05 p.m, April 17th, 1955, in one of the cemeteries in Palermo

A cemetery was not only the resting place of the deceased, but also the place of remembrance for the living.

People came here for various reasons. To bury the coffin of the deceased, to visit their former family members and friends that laid deep down the dust, to clean the area around the tombstones periodically or just simply to sleep when you got drunk and didn't remember the way home.

If you didn't have an ability that could communicate with the death like Necrologist, then there was a medium chance that you wouldn't be scared out of your sh*t when you heard strange noises coming from the tombstones.

On the carefully trimmed green lawn, each tombstone was evenly apart from the other. Looking at the smooth surface of a tombstone, we would see the name of the deceased, dates of their birth and death, and maybe a line of message from their family or friends for those who had already reached the other side of the living's world.

Some tombstones were two or three times bigger than the rest, as there were more than one deceased that resided there.

Francesca Mozzoni used to see hundreds of tombstones erected in a day during 1943.

They were the luckier ones since there was still someone alive that knew who they were to hold a small funeral or at least, make tombstones for them.

Others were dead bodies found with severely damaged appearances that no one could recognize. Most of them were the farmers that had left their hometown to find an opportunity for a better life in Palermo.

Under the sudden bomb raids, death was equal to every being.

Surrounded by the ruins, the former Chief of Sicily's Office was once asked by her son.

"Why did we even protect the ones that brought destruction to their homeland..."

Facing the harsh reality, his expression lost its usual liveliness. His voice was so light, as if a light wind could blow it away before being heard by anyone.

"...and to the innocent people?"

To regain their prime period, the Mafia must eradicate the power of the dictator on Sicily.

As a result, they had sold the information and map of Sicily to the dictator's enemies - the Allied.

They didn't care about the destructive war outside their island. All they concerned was that their benefits would be forever harmed as long as the dictator's influence was still here.

However, the Mafia only announced the invasion to the people who paid them for protection and the groups that had businesses with them.

What had she replied to her son?

"It's because we're still so weak that we need to rely on them to continue our work on this island."

"But what we're doing..." wasn't right at all.

The young man couldn't complete his sentence as he saw his mother's firm eyes.

"There is no right or wrong in this world, Federico."

"Your voice and your opinions would only be recognized if you were powerful enough."

"Get stronger quickly, Federico. To the point that you can do as you will."

It was just the familiar look of his mother, yet so much hope and expectation in her eyes at that moment had changed the young man's life.

Now standing in front of his tombstone and recalling their conversation in the past, Mozzoni let out a sigh.

"I'm about to say goodbye to you, but it seems it's still not the time yet."

"I know that you may not want to hear this old lady repeat the same things from time to time, but that's all that I can say to make my heart lighter a little."

The old lady sat down and used her fingers to touch the engraved lines on the smooth surface.

"Federico, I didn't regret what I've done."

"It wasn't the only decision I could make, yet it was the most effective one I would definitely make."

"Besides, the Foundation may have known about my dirty deeds from a long time ago. Still, they turned a blind eye and let me proceed."

"Although I once said that there was no right or wrong in this world, I always believed that I was never on the wrong side."

As she caressed his name on the cold stone, her fingers slightly shook.

"I guess you were the karma for the wrong things that I had committed."

In every nightmare, Mozzoni always failed to grab different forms of Federico back into her arms.

Little child Federico, teenager Federico, adult Federico...

She was destined to lose him.

"Please forgive me for what I've sinned."

Her late confessions were only heard by the cold and silent tombstone that couldn't respond.

—--------

"It's been years since the last time I entered a cemetery."

Pavia compared the scenery in front of his eyes with the one in his memory.

Rusted fence, tombstone next to tombstone, trees, grasses, smell of dust, tranquility and no fool would dare to come here causing ruckus, unless they wanted to "accidentally" encounter a secret trade and be missing without a trace afterwards.

"Not much different." He concluded.

Following his steps was Balloon Party, who was walking like a lively black and white-colored chick behind its mom.

"Most children don't prefer to hold a party here."

She gave a look here and there, then commented.

"However, if you insist, I will decorate this place in no time!"

She watched each member in her team expectantly, but quickly had a disappointed expression when seeing the gestures of refusal from all of them.

"Fine.... I will save the party for another time."

"How about you, Miss Necrologist?"

Tennant turned her sight to the girl in black outfits, who seemed to have been totally lost in her own world since they passed the entrance door.

"Do you feel well?"

Necrologist's ability to communicate with the deceased inside the tombstone was no secret. At a place where hundreds of tombstones gathered, it was like being surrounded by crowds of people who were talking nonstop on their own.

"Necrologist?"

Hearing no response from the girl, Sonetto worriedly approached her.

"...Federico..."

"...came back?"

"Oh, he saved your grandchildren?"

"...you too?"

"...I see."

"Yes, I will tell your daughter and son-in-law that you want to hear the latest news every weekend."

Necrologist lowered her body and nodded before a new tombstone that had a wreath made of fresh chrysanthemums on the top.

Next, she looked at Sonetto and Tennant respectively with a shy expression.

"I'm really sorry. It took me a few moments to spot your voices among those from the tombstones."

"Don't worry, my lady."

The woman blinked her charming crimson eyes.

"It's common sense to wait for a lady doing her personal business."

"As long as you feel well, then such things are just trivials."

It wasn't exaggerated to say that Tennant was a master in playing with the hearts of maidens and ladies. She knew which was the right expression to show her targets and the right lines to whisper in their ears.

Her spider webs were decorated with honey and rose petals as well as thorns.

Some of her prey could easily see the thorns hidden under that beautiful and sweet surface, yet they still fell for that trap one after another.

Tennant claimed that what she has been doing was art and she herself was just a passionate artist.

An artist of fraudity.

"Hey, I don't care what money bag you're about to rob, but my current boss hasn't paid me the rest yet."

Although the night had replaced the day for a while, Pavia's signature sunglasses still stayed at their previous position - his silver eyes.

"If she can't afford to pay me because of you, I will definitely not let you run easily."

The blond haired woman squinted her eyes and had a provocative smile on her mouth.

"You're jealous of me, aren't you?"

"In your dreams, fraudster."

The man immediately rolled his eyes.

"It's okay, Necrologist."

Sonetto gave the girl in black a comforting smile.

"Actually, I'm curious about what you were mumbling just now."

"I asked some of them about Federico De Luca."

Necrologist caressed her glass cage.

"They used good words to describe him. Like he had helped their families find a shelter even though they couldn't afford mafia's protection. Or he had come to orphanages throughout Sicily to give his support."

"In their praises, Federico was a kind and devoted young man who would never hurt a cat."

Right after she finished her speech, Pavia smirked.

"One of my previous bosses also swore to never hurt a single cat in his life."

"But the number of humans he buried underground and threw into the bottom of the sea were 100 times the number of cats he'd ever petted."

"Words from others are not enough to get to know about a person."

Vertin gave her opinion, then returned her sight to the night sky above, as if looking forward to something.

"Timekeeper is right." The orange-haired girl nodded, "We need to watch with our eyes, listen with our ears and interact with them directly."

"Yet it's still far from enough."

Tennant shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm good at sorting out bad adults."

The girl with black and white-colored pigtails joined their conversation.

"After every party, I will give each child my balloon. Through the balloons, I can watch them all day until their parents show signs that they are bad adults."

Balloon Party clapped her hands.

"That's also when my balloons explode!"

"If it wasn't you, I would find your words rather perverted."

The woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat giggled.

"Per...vert?"

Balloon Party repeated.

"Which part was perverted?"

She drowned in confusion.

"The watching part."

Tennant answered amusingly.

"But Click follows others every day and it's normal!"

The girl refuted and even brought the other member as an example to prove that what she'd done was just an ordinary action.

Coincidentally, the ghost photographer just came back from his searching flight.

"My job actually disturbs people sometimes."

His sudden voice successfully startled his companions, except for Balloon Party.

"I don't see your job as annoying at all!"

She arrogantly shook her head.

"Thank you. Although I can't feel anything, I still know that infringement of people's privacy is wrong."

"However, it was the path I had chosen. So, I won't give up on it until there's no smoke of war existing in this world."

Hearing his straightforward answer and watching his indifferent face, Tennant couldn't help letting out her laugh.

Sneezing could mysteriously spread from one to another, so did laughing.

Therefore, the gloomy and serious atmosphere was turned to a happy and light one in the blink of an eye.

"Pardon me." The blond-haired woman wiped tears at the corner of her eyes, "You're really a funny gentleman, Mr. Click."

Click, who didn't have a clue what had happened, just nodded in response to her "compliment".

"Did you find her spot?"

Vertin asked, while opening her pocket watch again.

It was 7:50 p.m, 10 minutes left before their arrangement with Mrs. Mozzoni.

The old woman had required them to meet inside this cemetery at the exact 8 p.m. If they couldn't see each other at the due time, it meant they were only able to find her after 10 a.m tomorrow.

Her request sounded suspicious, making Vertin think of the conditions when activating an Arcane Skill.

Nevertheless, their most priority right now was to unite with her as soon as possible, since she was the only person who knew the exact time and position where Federico De Luca died. Or else, it would be too late to prevent the ritual from being performed.

"I've flown around the whole area two times. Still, there is no trace of her."

Click slightly shook his head.

He may be lackadaisical in almost everything, but if it came to photography, he was more serious than anyone here.

To capture a commemorable moment, he must have good eyesight as well as the ability to spot his main character among several different objects and people.

Plus, as a ghost, he could fly through every surface and no obstacle could obstruct him.

That was why Vertin gave him the mission to find Mrs. Mozzoni from above, while her and other members were in charge of the below.

This cemetery wasn't the largest of all the cemeteries in Palermo, yet it contained hundreds of tombstones that were arranged like a medium-scale maze.

Her team had splitted and gathered again without bringing back any news.

Where was Mrs. Mozzoni?

Did she deceive them? Or worse, had she already been captured by the enemies?

"5 minutes left."

The gray-haired leader lowered her eyes. Her instinct told her that she was very close to her target.

"I remember Matilda once mentioned the sinner's resting place."

Sonetto opened her notebook.

"Here they are."

The orange-haired girl coherently repeated every word from the young prophet's previous guides.

"Let the animal's instinct guide you to the sinner's resting place and you'll know what to do."

"Animal?"

All of them turned their sight to Pavia at the same time.

"What? My boys are tired after all the hard work in the afternoon."

He clicked his tongue and began his bargain.

"I will purchase a new fridge for you when we're back." Vertin replied.

"My own fridge?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Deal. Hey Andrea, it's time for you to shine."

His long shadow became darker and darker until a pair of red animal eyes rose from it.

"Howl?"

"Yes, yes. Whatever you want."

The wolf immediately left the shadow and happily moved around the man.

"One of the most curious things in your suitcase is the conversation between Pavia and his wolves."

The ghost reporter talked to the gray-haired girl.

"How did you know?"

She changed her sight to him.

"Ms. Onion has put a new popularity poll on the announcement board recently."

"I will check on it later."