Chapter 84: The Old Sheep General Store

At six in the evening, a disguised Alice, veiled, discreetly located a small shop tucked away in a quiet alley. Its sign, weathered and faded, read ‘Old Sheep General Store’.

This was the rendezvous point the Mad Hatter had given her in advance.

Alice walked directly to the counter, lowering her voice to the middle-aged owner with a goatee. “Hello,” she began, “Mr. Hatter sent me for two pounds of butter, the very best. Please put it on his tab for now.”

The middle-aged owner raised an eyebrow, giving her a sharp look. “On credit again? When is he going to fix my pocket watch?”

“He said he’d fix it once he gets the butter,” Alice replied calmly, delivering the pre-arranged password.

This bizarre code phrase was truly in the Mad Hatter’s style, emphasizing its utter absurdity.

The middle-aged owner quickly scrutinized Alice before calling over a young assistant, a Redlands person, who was organizing the shelves.

“Take her to the cellar for two pounds of butter, for Old Hatter!” the owner shouted loudly.

The silent assistant turned and walked away, with Alice following closely behind.

The assistant led her into a spacious cellar, then turned to stare at her.

Alice understood the unspoken instruction and turned her back to them.

After a moment, Alice heard the distinct click of a mechanism. Then, the assistant made a few grunting sounds, signaling for Alice to turn back. Only then did Alice realize the assistant was mute.

Alice turned around to find a new door in the wall. Following the assistant’s gestures, she opened it and stepped inside.

Within, it appeared to be a casino constructed underground. A dozen or so gamblers were gathered, some clustered around a bowl of rolling dice, shouting excitedly, while others played cards at tables.

Alice wasn’t surprised. This was indeed one of the Tea Party’s meeting places, as the Mad Hatter had informed her. Ostensibly, it was an unregistered underground casino, providing a ready excuse should it ever be discovered or reported. Occasionally, it even served as a form of entertainment for their members.

The ‘gamblers’ paid Alice no mind; the Mad Hatter had already forewarned them of a visitor at this hour.

Alice quickly spotted the Mad Hatter himself—his tall top hat was far too distinctive to miss, as he was the only one in the room wearing a hat.

He sat quietly at a gambling table, meticulously organizing a deck of cards. Upon seeing Alice, he smiled and waved her over.

“Mad Hatter.” Alice approached and took a seat at the gambling table.

“You’re punctual.” The Mad Hatter glanced at his pocket watch. “Well then, let’s get started. I believe you mentioned that the divination requires a memento of my friend, did you not?”

With that, the Mad Hatter produced a bloodstained, tattered piece of cloth, placing it on the table. “This is a piece of the clothing he wore before he died. It was torn to shreds by the demon’s claws, so I’m not sure if it will suffice.”

“Shall we begin now?” Alice inquired.

“Heh heh, time waits for no one.” The Mad Hatter began to chuckle strangely again. “You should find out where that fellow might appear as soon as possible, so I can lay in wait for him.”

“Indeed,” Alice agreed, retrieving the enchanted mirror she carried.

That killer might strike at innocent people again at any moment; this matter truly could not be delayed.

Alice took the tattered, bloodstained cloth, folded it carefully, and placed the enchanted mirror on top, beginning her divination.

Time ticked by, moment by moment. The mirror’s surface shimmered with thin mists several times, seemingly on the verge of success, yet each time, they dissipated just as they were about to cover the entire surface.

Initially, Alice remained patient, but after several repetitions, she couldn’t help but grow anxious. She felt her strength draining away like water from a leaking bucket, yet no divination image would appear in the mirror.

Finally, Alice looked up with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, it seems it wasn’t successful.”

The Duchess Liddell had specifically reminded her that divination was never guaranteed. The further apart the fates of the diviner and the target, the lower the success rate. Relying solely on a medium for divination was largely a matter of pure luck.

“No matter, you did warn me, and I was mentally prepared.” The Mad Hatter raised an eyebrow, speaking in a jesting tone. “Just as we say, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Nothing is impossible for a willing heart, and I believe in you—after all, belief costs nothing.”

“Divination is quite exhausting,” Alice said with a bitter smile.

If she continued to fail, she would likely spend most of her energy on divination for several days straight.

“Please forgive my impulsiveness, but this matter is truly important. Resolving that fellow is a responsibility we must bear,” the Mad Hatter suddenly turned serious.

“The ‘Tea Party’ is quite earnest, then, to have its leader personally intervene to clean up its own house,” Alice commented. “Strictly speaking, even if that killer were left alone, they would eventually fall into the hands of the Inquisitor, wouldn’t they?”

The Mad Hatter stared at Alice for a long moment, then abruptly asked, “Brother Levi, what do you believe is the most important thing for an organization?”

Alice pondered for a moment, then ventured, “Its members?”

“I believe it is ‘ideology.’ An organization’s ideology determines its nature, just as a person’s character defines their perception,” the Mad Hatter said, running a finger along the brim of his hat, his eyes fixed intently on Alice’s. “An organization without an ideology has no guiding principles, which means it lacks direction and can easily stray. This is very, very, very, very dangerous, my friend.”

He used ‘very’ several times in a row, leaving Alice momentarily stunned.

“Don’t forget the core ideology of the ‘Tea Party,'” the Mad Hatter continued. “Our goal is to unite the weak and to ensure that those who uphold righteousness receive ample support. This principle is our soul; it must never be lost. You must understand, the vast majority of Tea Party members are outsiders persecuted by the Empire. Many, like that young man, harbor deep hatred for the people of the Empire, for the nobility, and for the Church. Revenge itself is justifiable; people should retain the ferocity to hate their enemies. But one should be the master of hatred, not its s*ave.”

Alice nodded in agreement. As an avenger, one should at least ensure that retribution is directed at the rightful target.

“That young man’s actions run contrary to the Tea Party’s principles. He was consumed by hatred, becoming nothing short of a terrorist. His kind of hatred can easily ignite others who share similar experiences. However, such terrorist activities cannot shake the Empire; they merely vent hatred, offering no benefit to the weak in their struggle for rights. Instead, they risk pushing their own people or group into moral opposition. The ‘Tea Party’ is neither a terrorist organization nor a lawless band of thieves. We must quickly state our position to maintain the organization’s direction. Since that fellow gained power from us to commit his crimes, then we must take responsibility and clean up our own house! While I dislike the constraints of rules, I must admit that an organization’s principles must be upheld with ironclad discipline.” The Mad Hatter’s expression was uncharacteristically serious.