Chapter 129: Sundaes And Thorned Sigils

"He found something weird. One of his old commission records was marked with a strange symbol—it looked like a musical note wrapped in thorns."

Kane’s blood ran cold. He exchanged a meaningful look with Cyrus.

"When was this commission from?" Cyrus asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"About three months ago. A woman wanted a special carrying case designed for some kind of crystal artifact. Paid in cash, gave a fake name." Takeo handed them their ice cream.

"Dad said that she specifically mentioned the need for it to muffle sound."

Kane’s hand instinctively moved toward his pendant, his mind racing.

"Takeo," Kane said urgently, "do you still have that record?"

"I’m not sure if Dad kept it, but I can take you guys to the shop to look for it. He’s probably home by now, but I have the spare keys."

Takeo wiped down the counter.

"Just let me close up here first—enjoy your ice cream while I get everything sorted."

Kane started to protest. "We can wait outside—"

"Nonsense." Takeo was already moving behind the counter, pulling out containers.

"You saved my father. The least I can do is make you a proper sundae."

Within minutes, he’d constructed an elaborate creation—vanilla and green tea ice cream topped with mochi pieces, red bean paste, and a delicate drizzle of black sesame sauce.

Two spoons jutted from opposite sides.

"There." Takeo beamed with pride. "That should keep you busy while I lock up."

Cyrus stared at the towering dessert with barely concealed horror. Kane bit back a laugh at his expression.

"It’s beautiful, Takeo. Thank you."

As Takeo bustled around closing the shop, Kane nudged the sundae toward Cyrus.

"Come on, dragon. Live a little."

Kane spooned up another bite, watching Cyrus reluctantly navigate the dessert.

"You know," Kane said between bites, "this is actually better than the pendant."

Cyrus paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "The ice cream?"

"The comfort." Kane gestured at their shared dessert.

"Don’t get me wrong—the pendant is gorgeous and probably costs more than anything I could ever afford. But this feels more... us."

A flush crept up Cyrus’s neck as Kane nudged their spoons together, stealing a bite from Cyrus’s side of the sundae.

"The pendant serves a purpose," Cyrus said quietly.

"So does this." Kane smiled, offering Cyrus a spoonful of red bean paste.

Takeo jingled his keys, interrupting their moment. "Ready to go?"

They walked down the familiar street, Kane still buzzing from the sugar rush. The Hoshino & Sons storefront looked different in the evening light—more intimate, less imposing than during their first visit.

"Here we are," Takeo said, unlocking the door. "Let me find that commission record."

Takeo led them through the darkened shop to a cluttered desk behind the counter. He pulled out a worn leather commission book, its pages yellowed with age.

"Here it is." He flipped through several entries before stopping.

"Ms. Chen," she called herself. But look at this."

Sketched in the margin beside the fake name was an intricate symbol—a musical note twisted through with thorny vines.

"Where the last song echoes in halls of stone," Kane whispered, the words from Madam Xiu’s riddle suddenly crystal clear.

Cyrus’s expression sharpened. "That’s not just decoration. It’s a faction sigil."

"A what?" Takeo asked.

"Ancient spirit organizations used marks like this to identify themselves," Cyrus explained, his voice grim.

"Do you know which faction it belongs to?" Kane asked, studying the thorny musical note symbol.

Cyrus frowned, his fingers tracing the air above the drawing without touching the page.

"I’m not certain, but it does look familiar. Maybe something from the old territories, before the consolidation."

"What kind of case did she want exactly?" Kane turned to Takeo.

"Silk-lined, with specific acoustic dampening materials woven into the fabric. She was very particular about the sound suppression." Takeo flipped to another page.

"Dad made notes here—she wanted it to completely muffle any resonance or vibration from whatever was stored inside."

Kane’s pulse quickened. "It’s definitely a shard."

Kane leaned forward eagerly. "We need to find this Ms. Chen. If she has the Mercy Fragment—"

"Slow down." Cyrus placed a restraining hand on Kane’s arm. "We don’t chase shadows without a plan."

"But Rina doesn’t have time for—"

"Which is exactly why we need to be methodical." Cyrus’s voice carried quiet authority.

"Three leads, Kane. Madam Xiu’s riddle about halls of stone, Bob’s archive search, and Mochi’s Whisper contact. They’re starting to connect."

Kane forced himself to step back from the commission book, though every instinct screamed at him to act now.

"You think this faction symbol ties them together?"

"Consider the timing." Cyrus studied the thorny musical note again.

"Three months ago, someone commissioned sound-dampening storage. Now we’re hunting fragments that sing or scream. That’s not coincidence."

Takeo watched their exchange with growing concern. "Is my father in danger?"

"Not anymore," Cyrus assured him. "But this commission book might be our first real breakthrough."

Kane’s phone buzzed. A text from Bob: Found something in Dad’s archives. Old acquisition notes mention ’Mercy’s Echo’ - sound familiar?

Kane showed Cyrus the message, feeling pieces click into place.

"Halls of stone," Kane murmured. "What if it’s not about location, but about echo chambers? Acoustic properties?"

"And if Whisper deals in sound-based artifacts..." Cyrus’s expression sharpened.

"We need to coordinate all three angles tomorrow. Carefully."

Kane nodded reluctantly, knowing Cyrus was right even as urgency clawed at him.

Takeo blinked at their intense exchange, clearly lost in the conversation about factions, fragments, and acoustic properties. He shut the book with a bemused smile.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about, but if you need anything else, just call me." He handed Kane a business card.

"I’ll keep an eye out for anything unusual."

"Thank you," Kane said sincerely. "You’ve been incredibly helpful."

As they prepared to leave, Takeo disappeared into the back room and returned with a garment bag.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Your suits are ready, Mr. Ashwood." He handed Kane the bag containing the designer suits Cyrus had commissioned during their previous visit.

Kane accepted the bag gratefully. "Please tell your father we appreciate his craftsmanship."

"I will. And remember—free ice cream anytime at Sweet Frost."

They stepped outside into the evening air, Kane adjusting his grip on the garment bag.

As they walked toward Cyrus’s car, Kane caught movement in his peripheral vision—a shadow slipping past the alley entrance.