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"I knelt down and turned the body over," Xavier said.

The dishes before him were empty. So was the teacup he was fiddling with.

Eulene, who was sitting opposite Xavier at the dining table, had listened to every single word with from Xavier\'s mouth with utmost attention. It was the first time she had heard the otherwise silent bastard say this many words.

Now that she thought about it, Xavier was in a state of nostalgia. Moreover, Xavier\'s memory was—for a lack of a better term—monster, capable of storing libraries worth of information. He was reminiscing about everything that happened those days.

"When I fired that shot," Xavier continued with his story, "I made sure to kill the tallest man in sight, expecting him to be a fully grown man. But when I saw his lifeless face after the deed was done and the day was over, I saw the lifeless face of a child."

Eulene, for the first time since she started hearing his story, twitched.

"I had lived with enough children for enough years of my early life to know how old he was. 14." Xavier heaved out a sigh. "And I had killed him. My first kill… was a child. Apparently, I wasn\'t the only underaged recruit to rush into the war. There were younger."

Eulene could feel the pain and self mockery in his voice. She knew how much he adored children. She had witnessed it with her own eyes back at the shelter back in Derbury.

"Sylvester Yorker. I still remember his name, or at least that\'s what his bloodied dog tag said. If I weren\'t there that day, or decided to shoot someone else, maybe he would have lived 70 more years, returned to his family, created one of his own and so much more… but I ended it."

Xavier, who had his eyes on the cup he was fiddling with, suddenly turned to Eulene. "417," he said. "That\'s the number of breathing human beings I have directly killed over the last two centuries, bringing woe to many more. After all, everyone of those 417 were someone\'s son, someone\'s husband, someone\'s brother or someone\'s father."

Eulene was silent. 417 was not anywhere near her own kill count. A sect she casually vanquished could have had ten times that number. But did she carry the weight of those kills? No wonder Xavier\'s killing intent was this strong.

"You got your answer, right?" Xavier asked.

Eulene nodded. "Did you count Dr. Hearts on that 417?"

Xavier raised a brow. "Yes." But he answered nonetheless.

"Then it\'s 416," Eulene declared. "After all, I was the one who killed him." Eulene had no qualms increasing her own kill counts. She was made this way. A thousand addition wouldn\'t affect her, let alone a unit. Moreover, it would decrease the burden off Xavier, even if it was by a little.

Xavier widened his eyes in surprise, but soon after, a smile surfaced on his face. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He shook his head. "I was the one who ordered you, but thank you anyway."

The stubborn Eulene was not convinced. "How about 416.5 then?"

Xavier almost broke out in laughter, but managed to keep himself composed in the end. "Okay, okay. Whatever you wish."

The murky mood from reminiscing about his first kill wasn\'t there anymore.

******

Afternoon. The bell rang twice. Just like Derbury, there was a Zeitmann\'s tower in Aramon.

Xavier and Eulene walked out of the mansion and past the courtyard. The cat stayed back in the house.

Once they reached the gate, the duo found a carriage waiting for them. It was luxurious like the one they had used to arrive here.

This reminded Eulene of their sleuthing days back in Derbury. Unfortunately, Wilbur was not there anymore.

Both of them hopped in.

Xavier opened the small window at the front, "To the central district."

With some vigorous neighs, the coach began to move.

The curtains on both sides of the windows were open. Eulene used all of her focus on sightseeing, trying to match the sights with what she had read in the books.

The roads were much wider, and the buildings—much taller. She also noticed that unlike that in Derbury, the coach had to stop many a times during the journey. Apparently, it was the traffic that one of the books spoke of.

Their destination—the Central District—was not much far from where they lived. After all, if the richest of the rich of the country did not live at the city\'s centre, where would they? Despite mild traffic, they arrived in a matter of 20 minutes.

The duo walked out of the carriage. Xavier paid the coachman and shooed him away.

Eulene checked the surroundings. They were standing at the intersection of multiple roads. The roads were the busiest, but the cleanest she had ever seen. People of all walks of lives were walking through the streets.

The buildings were large and old, but carried an aura of authority.

"All of these are government buildings," Xavier introduced, "ministries, embassies, secretariats, offices and whatnot."

Eulene turned to the building just ahead of them. It was a triangular building meshed with the acute angled road intersection. It seemed as if it was the oldest building there. And it was.

There was a signboard hanged above the seemingly ordinary entrance.

\'Department of Weather and Disaster Management\'

All of the surrounding buildings had continuous influx and efflux of people, but the building right before them was desolate. People even barely passed through it.

Eulene frowned and turned to Xavier. "What are we doing here?" Surely, Xavier did not work here. Or did he?

"Do you know how many ministries Avarynth has?" Xavier asked.

"12." Eulene answered in a jiffy. She had taken enough social science lessons and quizzes from aunt Maisel to know such simple things.

"Incorrect. 12 is the number ordinary people know." Xavier pointed at the archaic triangular building before them.

"This is the entrance to \'The Thirteenth\'."