The commercial street of San Portland

The next day, after thoroughly reviewing all available information on the Great Demon Hound, the trio accepted the commission.

The streets of Three Portland were much the same as those in any city across the world: there were no communal racks for flying broomsticks, nor were there maglev trains. Aside from the unfriendly glances lurking in the narrow alleys, this place was indistinguishable from the neighborhood Jin Ning walked through every day on his way to high school.

Katherine and Afra both wore black velvet blazers paired with brogue-style women’s leather shoes, their lapel pins adorned with a sly-looking deer. Jin Ning, too, was in a men's school uniform: a specially tailored, thoroughly collegiate jacket over a crisp white mandarin-collar shirt, with indigo jeans below. If not for the gentleman’s hat—meant for his head but now being spun idly in his hand—they would have blended seamlessly among the most ordinary students hurrying through the halls of Deer Academy.

Blending in was the first rule of reconnaissance, and encountering students from Deer Academy in Three Portland was hardly a rarity.

The commercial street had no official name. Perhaps it was because Three Portland had only one such street, or perhaps people had deliberately allowed its true name to fade from memory. After all, too many world-shaking transactions had taken place here, and a true name held an inexplicable significance for both known and unknown entities lurking in the chaos. Who could guarantee that some eldritch god wouldn’t use the name of a street to pinpoint its location in the multiverse?

"From what we know, the target is likely to appear late at night. Shall we find somewhere to sit for a while?" Afra had already started toward a drink shop called “The Edge of the World.” Though the street was desolate after dark, a few establishments remained open.

Katherine waved the tiny walkie-talkie at Jin Ning and then followed Afra inside, choosing a seat.

“Can you hear me?” Jin Ning straightened his collar and muttered softly in a way that wouldn’t draw attention.

“Everything’s normal. Begin Plan A.” Katherine’s voice was clear through the little button, always cold and detached.

Jin Ning wandered aimlessly along the street. “Why is Plan A just me wandering around? And why am I doing it alone?” He put special emphasis on “alone.”

“Are you really going to let two delicate young ladies roam the streets like homeless high schoolers? Is that your idea of gentlemanly conduct?” Afra’s voice was slightly muffled, as though she were drinking something.

“I’ve always been a supporter of equality. Since childhood, I’ve believed women should have the same rights—and, of course, responsibilities—as men.” Jin Ning sat on a bench, checked his phone for the time. Four hours until midnight.

“I’ll take over after ten,” Katherine replied in her usual emotionless tone. Sometimes Jin Ning wondered if he was talking to a recording of her voice.

“Katherine, are you Scandinavian?” With nothing better to do, Jin Ning decided to pass the time with conversation. Chatting was, after all, the best way to relieve stress.

“No, I’m from Siberia.”

“It’s cold there too.”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“It is.”

Jin Ning started to regret choosing Katherine as a conversational partner. Luckily, he still had another option.

“What about you, Afra?”

“I grew up amidst the sea winds of the Navian Peninsula. I’m Swedish, but I have Jewish heritage.” Thankfully, Afra had the liveliness one would expect at her age. Otherwise, Jin Ning would have been doomed to two hours of awkward silence or equally awkward conversation.

“If I remember right, you majored in Ancient Uralic, didn’t you?” Jin Ning took a moment to recall the tongue-twisting name.

“Yes. Do you know what Ancient Uralic is? Six thousand years ago, the dialects of the Uralic languages weren’t that different. In the Stone Age, as the Uralic ancestors living on the Eastern European plains developed socially, they needed more territory for food. Groups speaking different Uralic dialects began to migrate in all directions, gradually drifting apart. The differences grew until mutual understanding was impossible. By 4000 BC, they split into Samoyedic and Finno-Ugric languages. Most Finno-Ugric people settled in northern and central Russia, in the Ural Mountains. Over the next two thousand years, they reached as far as the Baltic Sea and assimilated with Slavs and Turks. Around 2000 BC, the Finnic branch separated from Finno-Ugric. The Sami, not originally Finno-Ugric, adopted this early Finnic, and by 1000 BC, the Sami language began to take shape. The divergence of Finnish, Karelian, and Estonian came later, after the dawn of the Common Era. Nowadays, Ancient Uralic is mainly used to decipher myths and relics left by our ancestors. Are you familiar with the Norse pantheon?” Afra was clearly eager to talk about her beloved field of study.

“I don’t know much—just bits I remember from old novels. I think all the gods died in Ragnarok, making it one of the more tragic mythologies.” Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Jin Ning gazed at the star-filled night sky, replying absentmindedly to Afra. The girl, otherwise merely lively, became zealously passionate when discussing her specialty, and Jin Ning was beginning to regret starting the conversation.

“You’re talking about the end of the myth, Ragnarok. I’d be happy to tell you about those wondrous, fantastical tales, but the story’s a bit long.” Afra sounded like a schoolgirl, eager for someone to ask her questions she already knew the answers to.

“Time is the one thing I have in abundance right now.” The words no sooner left his mouth than Jin Ning regretted them. Who really wanted to hear a long mythological saga, especially from a delicate young girl? Was he supposed to expect her to recount the gods’ chaotic private lives?

Jin Ning had only ever read a book about Greek mythology in high school, so in his mind, aside from the tales of love and desire everyone enjoyed, mythologies were just dry epics. Between heroes who endured countless trials for the Golden Fleece and Helen, whose beauty sparked the Trojan War, he was more interested in the latter.

But in the end, Jin Ning’s damned sense of gentlemanly conduct forced him to listen as Afra’s voice bubbled over the communicator. Was this why etiquette was a required course at Deer Academy? Couldn’t someone in a tailcoat also be an unromantic brute?

Afra cleared her throat. “It all began with the death of Baldr, the god of light...”

“...The World Tree burned to ashes, and the world was destroyed. Thus, after a final, bloody climax, the grand tapestry of Norse myth, painted in blood, slowly fell. But destruction does not mean annihilation. After Ragnarok, as the World Tree is reborn, the survivors of the three realms begin the arduous task of rebuilding the world.”

Unlike the romantic, passionate tales of Greek mythology, Norse myths offered no true eternity. All things waxed and waned, rising and falling in endless cycles.

After such a long tale, someone had to break the silence. “Can gods truly die? In our Chinese myths, powerful souls are either sealed away or reincarnated, never simply fading into nothingness like in Norse stories.” The rare listener posed his question.

“Of course. For everything that exists, there must be a corresponding end; otherwise, its existence cannot be proven.” Katherine’s cold voice came through the communicator, as clear and remote as the first sunlight on Lake Baikal’s ice.

Jin Ning leaned back on the bench, moonlight spilling over his tailcoat. Beneath the vast stars, he found himself pondering the question humanity had wrestled with since first looking to the sky: What is the meaning of existence? Until nineteen, he had led a lonely, tranquil, ordinary life, viewing the world with detachment. His only dream was to figure out his role before he died. After nineteen, on a dark night, a blow from behind had whisked him away, and a group of maniacs had shown him another side of the world, severing all his choices, leaving him no option but to struggle for survival at this academy.

Damn the Foundation. A bunch of inhuman lunatics—they called him an anomaly, but he thought they were the real aberrations.

A fleeting shadow at the edge of his vision jolted Jin Ning from his reverie. “Suspected target sighted, moving rapidly.” He felt that tonight’s mission was as good as done and was about to remove the communicator and leave.

“Keep your distance and follow it. Even if the only information in the report is that the target moves quickly, we still need some photos to verify it.” Katherine effortlessly dashed his hopes.

Clouds gradually swallowed the moon; someone, face drawn with misery, began the night’s pursuit.

The streetlights glimmered dimly—no one could escape the darkness.