The highest bounty belonged to the vampire.
The notice depicted a lady with hazel eyes and dark black hair. She wore a bright purple dress and a veiled hat that partially concealed her face. Her appearance was strikingly youthful, no older than a teenager at first glance.
A vampire, however, was never a simple matter. Rosacer frowned inwardly.
The charge itself was merely for registration. In theory, there should have been no major complications. Yet a reward of five thousand vials for something so trivial felt deeply suspicious.
He exhaled slowly.
'Do I not need money?' he asked himself.
Reaching out, he tore the vampire's pamphlet from the board. He was confident in his ability to deal with a lone vampire, provided the situation remained as described.
Turning his attention inward, Rosacer consulted the system, seeking more information about the vampire known as Katrina Sanguine.
The response disappointed him. The system provided nothing beyond what was already written on the notice. He sighed. Though the system often appeared omnipotent, it clearly had its limits.
"Looks like what's on the menu is a vampire," he muttered as he made his way out of the station.
As he passed through the entrance, haloed by the falling light, he noticed the unusual emptiness of the office. Very few officers remained inside.
"Patrolling, perhaps," Rosacer murmured.
Stepping outside, he moved swiftly toward a nearby alley. If the system would not provide answers, then he would seek them the old way.
By asking around.
Around the corner, a man was asking passersby for information, a pamphlet held firmly in his hand. Printed on it was the image of a beautiful young woman.
"Have you seen this girl?" Rosacer asked an old man who was taking a slow night stroll after his meal.
The old man bore no obvious deformities. One of his eyes was bandaged, but aside from that, he appeared healthy and surprisingly sturdy for his age.
The old man lifted his head to study the man before him. He noticed the urgency in Rosacer's expression, the faint edge of panic beneath his composure. Instead of answering, he asked calmly, "Why are you looking for her, young man?" He examined the image with his aged eyes, now clouded by time.
Seeing this, Rosacer briefly wondered whether the old man could even make out the picture. Still, out of courtesy, he answered the question posed to him.
"She is a criminal I am trying to capture."
The old man's expression shifted. A faint smile formed on his lips as he looked at Rosacer.
"A bounty hunter, are you?" he said. "Then I doubt you will find her by asking like this. Information about criminals of that sort is not shared among common folk like us. You would do better to seek out a clan. They trade information in exchange for service or other forms of payment."
Rosacer nodded and gestured for the old man to continue.
The old man tried to recall the name he intended to give, but age weighed heavily on his memory. For several moments, he stood scratching his chin in thought. Just as Rosacer was about to abandon hope, the old man's eyes lit up slightly.
"The Rose Temple," he said at last. "It is located on the western side of the town. You will recognize it easily. A dome-shaped building, with black petals stretching upward toward the sky."
After receiving the information, Rosacer inclined his head and thanked the old man. He reached into his coat and retrieved a vial, holding it out as payment. The old man raised a hand at once and shook his head.
"There is no need," he said calmly. "I am grateful enough knowing you are helping to cleanse the streets of such criminals."
Rosacer studied him for a brief moment, then returned the vial to his coat. He offered a final nod before turning away.
Leaving the old man behind, Rosacer made his way toward the western side.
The atmosphere shifted gradually as he walked. The narrow, quiet streets gave way to wider roads filled with voices, lantern light, and movement. Merchants lined the streets with makeshift stalls, their tables cluttered with bottles, charms, dried herbs, and strange mechanical trinkets. Peddlers called out to passersby, advertising remedies for exhaustion, fear, pain, and even nightmares.
More than once, Rosacer was stopped.
"Sleepless pills, sir. Cheap and effective."
"Stay awake for days, guaranteed."
Each time, he glanced at the small vials offered to him. They looked poorly refined, the liquid inside cloudy and uneven. Without breaking stride, he quietly consulted the system.
The response came swiftly.
[Effectiveness: Negligible. Side effects: Severe fatigue rebound, minor organ strain.]
Rosacer suppressed a sigh.
'Almost useless,' he thought. 'At best it's a placebo. At worst a poison.'
One particularly persistent peddler stepped directly into his path. He was a thin man with sharp eyes and an eager smile, clutching a small wooden tray filled with vials.
"Interested?" the man asked. "I can make you a deal."
Rosacer stopped and looked down at the tray. "What is the price?"
The peddler's smile widened. "No vials needed. I trade items. For a dozen sleepless pills, I will take your coat."
Rosacer's gaze slowly lifted from the tray to the man's face.
His coat was reinforced, enchanted, and worth more than the entire stall combined.
'A scam,' Rosacer thought flatly.
He said nothing. His silence alone was enough.
The peddler's smile faltered as he sensed the change in Rosacer's presence. After a brief, uncomfortable pause, the man stepped aside, muttering something under his breath.
Rosacer continued on.
As he walked deeper into the western side, the quality of the stalls subtly changed. The noise thinned. Lanterns grew fewer. The merchants here watched him rather than called out to him. Some averted their eyes altogether.
'This is the boundary, I guess...' Rosacer realized.
Ahead, the architecture started to shift, the buildings grew darker, the light dimmer, and the mist a bit thicker—not quite like the southern sector, but still heavier than in other areas.
His pace slowed.
'The Rose Temple is close,' he thought.
The bustling noise of the market faded behind him, swallowed by an uneasy quiet. Each step forward felt heavier.
Rosacer tightened his grip on his resolve.