He chuckled faintly. “Politics don’t concern me. It’s all bullshit, the same old ideologies, nothing more.”

She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and something akin to relief, then surprised him by smiling brightly.

“Good,” she said with a smirk. “Because if you were a Confederate, I’d have to report back to the syndicate.”

She leaned in slightly. “The streets aren’t safe right now. There've been a lot of murders around town, and some say the Confederates might be behind them. Mainly, it’s the political figures the real power players causing this chaos,” Felicity explained.

“So, that’s why you offered me a place to stay?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Quite somewhat,” she replied, avoiding direct eye contact.

Croid grinned. “Wow. I didn’t know you actually cared that much.”

She shot him a playful glare and chuckled, tossing a pillow at his head. “Don’t let it get to your head,” she teased.

Besides, you owe me now,” Felicity said with a sly smile. “And… you’re going to have to pay back what you owe.”

Croid, amused but resigned, muttered, “I knew this was too good to be true.”

“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Felicity replied simply.

“There's a ton of stock I need moved upstairs from the cellar. Things need cleaning, and some barrels need changing. You’re going to help me with that today,” she ordered.

Croid hesitated briefly. “What about the work you said you were going to help me get?”

Felicity responded with a sigh. “You’ll get it when I speak to them,” she said casually, “but in the meantime, you can do something useful. I have to impress the new owners, you see.”

Turns out, Croid didn’t mind much, especially since he had nowhere else to go. In a way, he was satisfied to be able to return the favour. That was just the sort of person he was. Besides, Felicity was giving him a better offer than the dangerous streets outside. More than that, he genuinely liked her company.

“Very well,” Croid agreed. “When do we start?”

“You can start by coming back to bed; it’s way too early,” Felicity teased with a smile.

Croid returned the gesture and took off his shirt, eager to join her in comfort.

Meanwhile, Husa moved through the town square, scouting for the Lovecraft family’s whereabouts. His senses picked up supernatural beings, nearby targets he needed to eliminate. At this moment, he didn’t know exactly where they lived, but he was confident they were separated across different parts of Hanford. They were busy making friends with the locals, adjusting to their new surroundings.

Husa constantly watched, waiting for the right moment. His primary target was Marimbo, their apparent leader, who was the greatest threat. Just as he had hoped, the Lovecraft family members had been detected in various locations both in town, seemingly unaware, going about their business.

He wondered if Brock’s murder the night before had raised suspicion, and if the Lovecrafts were even aware of it. Why were they separated, he questioned himself, if they were planning an attack? Yet, he had already set his plan in motion and saw no way back now. He knew that if the Lovecrafts believed Brock was dead or had been killed by his hand, conflict would be inevitable for his family’s safety.

Husa lingered within the shadows of the town square. Morning was fading into late morning. Dressed in his combat gear, his dark gothic robes concealed his identity, thanks to a hood he wore for covert operations. Some passersby shot wary glances at him, strangers suspicious of his lone, brooding presence. The town square wasn’t far from the Hanford Inn, and many locals were socialising, going about their usual day.

Meanwhile, Marimbo, accompanied by two other family members, was engaged in a conversation with the town’s mayor, Yamon LeBaron. This was fortunate, as Husa’s plan was to take the Lovecraft leader out first, preventing him from exploiting his annoying ability to teleport short distances. Eliminating the leader would cause instability within the family, and his rapid teleportation only increased the danger if he was caught off guard. Sigmund Lovecraft stood beside Marimbo, alongside a woman Husa hadn’t seen before, likely one of the other family members mentioned the night prior. In the shadows, Husa silently cursed. “Damn it, this is going to be more trouble than I thought,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

He continued observing the three Lovecrafts, trying to devise an alternative strategy. Clearly, assassinating them in public was risky, irrational, dangerous, and most likely too complicated. As a cautious stalker, he kept watch from the background, trying to understand their motives.

The mayor glanced at Marimbo and offered a compliment. “We’ve heard that your family has travelled all over Europe.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a lot to bring to the community,” the mayor added.

“Our contribution,” Marimbo replied smoothly, “to maintaining the Union’s goals…” Taking a deep breath, he conjectured. “Agon…” Marimbo said, looking at the female Lovecraft to his side.

The conversation continued, and Husa kept his focus, trying to anticipate their next move realising that every step they took might be a trap or an opportunity. Suddenly, the name Agon whispered in his mind, recalling it as the name of the unknown female Lovecraft he’d heard mentioned the night before, now revealed in this conversation.

Agon stepped forward and, with a composed expression, handed over a check for over fifty thousand dollars. “A small donation, and more to come, your honour,” she said softly.

Her face was perfectly still, giving her a cold, commanding presence. There was also an unnatural beauty to her. She could easily be considered an enchantress if she smiled more.

The mayor’s eyes lit up with pleasure; he now saw new, powerful allies by his side. Like many who encountered the Lovecrafts, he was strangely fascinated by them. He couldn’t help but notice these people seemed bizarrely attractive, their elegance almost otherworldly. Agon then stepped back to let Marimbo take the lead, maintaining his authority as the conversation continued.

“I trust you’ll be attending our ball?” Marimbo asked. “Most of the nobles will be there, and I hope it will be a good opportunity to discuss some business matters.”

The mayor regarded the donations and the influence they represented. Seeing the potential power in the Lovecraft family, he couldn’t refuse. “A chance indeed,” the mayor replied, nodding resolutely.

Many of the town’s nobles, who stood around the mayor, had already taken notice of the Lovecraft family. Celebrating the favour shown to their most influential noble, the event was sealed, their support secured, and their future in Hanford assured. As the Lovecraft family quietly exited the town square, conversation buzzed among the locals about the upcoming ball, the air thick with anticipation.

Meanwhile, Husa melted into the concealed areas of Hanford, observing from the shadows. He made the calculated decision that pursuing the Lovecraft head, with two of his family members by his side, would be a foolish move. There was something about Agon. Her inner coldness combined with her seemingly empty exterior was what unsettled him deeply. She reminded him of himself in a way frosty, distant and yet, in her own way, fearless. She was an unpredictable warrior, capable of surprises.

But perhaps most importantly, Husa recognised that his family still had an advantage: they had not all gathered in one place. They were spread out, vulnerable. The most effective strategy, he decided, was to pick off the weaker Lovecraft members individually.

He detected the presence of three other likely members to the east. Without hesitation, he headed that way, leaving the others heading north. His focus sharpened in every step, driven by calculated precision and survival instinct.