"Don't bring my child into this," Joline’s voice trembled, her words strained and heavy, weighed down by fear and apprehension. She tried to maintain her composure, but the cracks were evident. It was faint, almost imperceptible, yet Dryzza could see it: a glint of awareness shimmering in Joline’s eyes. It was a look that betrayed an unspeakable fear, an understanding of the terrible fate that might befall her child—little Jess, the innocent girl who lay sleeping peacefully behind her. As the tension thickened, the shadow of impending danger loomed, casting an ominous pall over the room. Dryzza knew that Joline sensed it too, and for a fleeting moment, both women were united in their mutual knowledge of the lurking threat. Dryzza sighed softly, her expression grave. “It’s not in my will to involve your child,” she began, her voice measured and deliberate, “but I know you understand that if you don’t act now, your daughter’s life will be placed in grave danger.” Her words carr
Dryzza leaned forward, her interest piqued as she inquired softly, “Can you tell me more about this mistress?” Her proximity seemed to draw out a subtle shift in Joline’s demeanor; the initial hesitation that had characterized her behavior now seemed to dissolve. Joline’s gaze briefly flickered toward her child, a fleeting glance that revealed a mother’s concern, before returning steadily to Dryzza.“It’s not the mistress you should be asking about,” Joline whispered in a tone laced with unspoken gravity. “Rather, I should tell you more about the young master.” She spoke with a quiet intensity that suggested her words carried a weight beyond their immediate meaning. “I have pledged my loyalty to this manor and to the Takahashi family. I am bound to uphold that vow. But if sharing this knowledge could be of help in the future, then I do not see it as a breach of that promise. After all, our duty is to protect the family and I believe whatever your reason why you had travelled back t
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Joline stammered as she stood beside Dryzza, her fingers nervously adjusting the apron around her waist. She scanned the room, her eyes flicking from one servant to another, each absorbed in their tasks. She's evidently anxious about the entire situation. The work they were about to embark on, though seemingly mundane, carried consequences far beyond their immediate understanding. Joline couldn't shake the thought that one wrong move could unravel everything they were trying to preserve. Dryzza, on the other hand, appeared unfazed. She casually adjusted her maid outfit, the very one Joline had loaned her. Her movements were steady, her expression calm. "What are you so scared about?" Dryzza asked, her voice carrying an air of nonchalance. The stark contrast between her composure and Joline’s anxiety was striking. Dryzza's ease seemed to suggest that the risk they were taking was either negligible or already inevitable, a sentiment Joline found
It took only a few tense moments for Joline to persuade Dryzza not to act on impulse, a reckless move that could endanger not only their lives but the fragile balance of time itself. Yet, even with Dryzza momentarily calmed, a quiet tension remained between them, deepened by the terms of their agreement: Dryzza was forbidden from revealing the truths she carried. This silence felt heavier than usual, an unspoken acknowledgment that the stakes were too high to risk any missteps. Joline was left to rely on blind trust, her frustration simmering as she sensed that whatever Dryzza was concealing could alter the course of their mission in profound ways. Now, the two found themselves lingering in the lanai at the rear of the manor, a space where the surrounding quiet seemed to echo the stillness between them. Dryzza sat motionless, her mind clearly preoccupied by something weighty. Her distant gaze and uncharacteristic silence revealed an intense inner battle, one that Joline could o
Dryzza's entire being tightened, the sudden exposure of her cover a shock to her senses. The mistress had seen through her façade effortlessly, as though Dryzza’s attempts to blend in had been mere child’s play. Now, seated across from her, Dryzza carefully examined the woman’s features. There was an unsettling familiarity, though the specifics eluded her. Slowly, it became clear: this was not the individual from Samantha's files. The resemblance was undeniable, yet it raised more questions than answers, deepening Dryzza's uncertainty about the path ahead. This woman wasn’t a stranger, but rather someone connected by blood, someone woven into the same familial web Dryzza had been trying to untangle in Samantha's case which she can now connect with the Takahashi case. The realization heightened her sense of vulnerability. She wasn’t just facing an adversary; she was facing someone who, by lineage, had a right to be involved in this delicate matter. The silence between them
"These grandchildren... would you happen to know their names?" Dryzza ventured, her gaze fixed on the grimoire resting on the mistress’s lap. Despite her concentration, the grimoire remained elusive to her mind, its pages barely visible as if teasing her imagination to construct its appearance before she could fully comprehend it. The mistress might be even doing on purpose. A test? Who'd know? Definitely not her. She felt a pull toward it, as though the secrets contained within were playing tricks on her senses, demanding her attention even as the conversation continued. "I most certainly do," the mistress replied after a moment’s pause, her voice calm, almost nonchalant, as if the matter were of no great consequence to her. Yet, Dryzza sensed a deeper tension beneath her composed exterior. "Samantha and Agatha, was it?" The mistress’s smile was faint as her fingers traced invisible patterns across the grimoire’s pages, her attention briefly drifting before she turned her e
“Can you explain what's going on, please? Or are you going insane?” Sai's tone was laced with a mixture of irritation and disbelief as he and Esmeralda trailed after Dryzza through the current state of the manor—crumbling walls, shattered furniture, and debris littered everywhere, remnants of a forgotten past. “I don't have time to explain every detail, but I know how to find the grimoire,” Dryzza replied tersely, her focus unwavering as she began to sift through the scattered remnants of the manor with one hand, while her other extended the ruby necklace forward, flashlight in hand, as though it might illuminate the path to the grimoire. “Oh, wow!” Sai scoffed, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable. “Just what we need, a necklace to guide us. Brilliant.” His irritation was palpable; he seemed less relieved about Dryzza’s newfound confidence than frustrated by the urgency of the situation. Dryzza mentally noted Sai’s dismissive tone, but she couldn’t afford to let it distract he
Dryzza took a deep breath, her hand subtly signaling Esmeralda and Sai to lower their guard. She could sense the tension, the uncertainty, and yet there was an air of inevitability about the encounter with Tomoya. “How did you know we’d be here?” she asked, her voice calm but probing. “Perhaps, did the mistress...?” She let her sentence trail off deliberately, hoping Tomoya would fill in the gaps, but he simply shrugged nonchalantly."She didn’t. Besides, she's already long dead," Tomoya said, his tone casual as though this confrontation were nothing out of the ordinary. "I figured it out a long time ago." The subtle irony in his voice wasn’t lost on Dryzza. So, Tomoya had anticipated this, or at least some version of it. She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing his calm demeanor. If he had known, why hadn’t he intervened earlier? Why had he left them to struggle, to piece together the mystery of the grimoire without even a hint of guidance?"You knew all along that I’d be the one to fi
Tomoya leaned back against his car, his arms crossed defensively as though they might shield him from the piercing gaze of the woman standing before him. Dryzza, a force to be reckoned with even on her worst days, stood opposite him, her face pale, her exhaustion evident. Dark shadows framed her eyes, betraying sleepless nights. Yet despite her weariness, her presence held an unyielding authority that made Tomoya’s discomfort intensify. "What?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, though his mind raced. Knowing Rener had already entered this woman’s dreams made him uneasy. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with her—it could derail the delicate events set to unfold later that evening. "You tell me," Dryzza snapped, her tone sharp but laden with fatigue. She paused, as if assessing whether she truly had the energy to deal with him. "What are you doing here?" Tomoya smirked, a feeble attempt to mask his anxiety. Pushing himself off the car slightly, he gestured to his ve
Tomoya dragged himself back home, his mind and body weighted by the events of the night. He didn’t bother dwelling on Jess’s fate if her accomplices realized the grimoire he’d handed her was a forgery. Exhaustion had dulled his senses, and the moral complexities of his choices faded into the background. Reaching his condominium, he allowed the familiar silence to envelop him. He assumed Kathleen was in good hands with Theresa, sparing him one less worry for the night. Collapsing onto the couch, Tomoya felt the day’s tension seep into the room. The empty space around him, although spacious, felt oppressive, as if the walls themselves carried the weight of his secrets. Pulling the grimoire from his coat pocket, he placed it carefully on the table next to his laptop. The book’s presence filled the room with an ominous aura, a silent reminder of his uneasy alliance with Rener. The thought of working with Rener makes his skin crawl. What would Takumi think if he found out? The betr
Tomoya slumped into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel as his mind spiraled. “Now what?” he muttered, his voice a mixture of self-loathing and panic. He replayed the moment he handed the grimoire to Jess, realizing with mounting horror that he had fallen prey to Rener’s manipulations. His fists clenched as frustration overwhelmed him. “You absolute idiot!” he berated himself, his voice echoing in the stillness of the car. “You trusted a demon. A demon! What the hell were you thinking?!” He kicked the floorboard like a petulant child, trying to vent the storm raging inside him. He was still seething when a movement in the rearview mirror caught his eye. “Holy shit!” Tomoya nearly leaped out of his seat as he spotted Rener, lounging in the backseat as if he belonged there. His calm, unbothered demeanor only added fuel to Tomoya’s anger. “You!” he pointed accusingly, his voice trembling with disbelief and fury. Rener’s dark eyes met his through the mirror, a faint smirk p
The hospital cafeteria exuded an almost eerie stillness despite the occasional clatter of cutlery and murmured conversations. Its sterile, fluorescent lighting gave everything a pale glow, and the faint smell of antiseptic mingled with the aroma of cheap coffee. Tomoya sat across from Jess, his body language rigid and unwelcoming. The tension between them was palpable, thick as the silence that had settled around their table. Jess had barely touched her salad, her fork occasionally poking at the lettuce while her gaze remained fixed downward. "How’d it come to you that I would just hand you the grimoire that easily?" Tomoya’s voice cut through the silence, his tone sharp and laden with irritation. His arms were crossed, his posture unyielding. It wasn’t in his nature to entertain vague requests, especially not when they revolved around something as dangerous as Samantha’s grimoire. Jess’s unwillingness to provide any meaningful explanation only fueled his skepticism. Jess shif
“We clearly severed all ties long ago. Why is he still meddling in my affairs?” Takumi's voice was sharp, laced with an unmistakable irritation, as he slammed a hand down onto the round table between them. The sound resonated through the quiet room, highlighting the tension that had hung since Tomoya arrived. After his strange encounter with Rener, Tomoya had come to Takumi without delay to relay the archdemon’s unexpected proposition. Now, sitting across from his cousin, he could see Takumi’s simmering resentment—a bitterness that seemed to have settled within him long ago. Tomoya managed a wry smile. “I’d never know his true intentions,” he replied with a hint of sarcasm, leaning back in his chair. “But, whatever his motives are, we both know he genuinely cared for you once.” His tone softened as he finished, a subtle reminder of the past that even demons cannot erase. Takumi froze, the sarcasm seeping from his own expression, replaced by something harder to decipher. His ga
Rener remained standing, merely raising a hand in polite refusal. “No need,” he said, his voice a low resonance that seemed to echo off the walls. “I’m only here for a little pep talk.” “Pep talk?” Tomoya raised a brow, feigning confusion even as his mind raced, grasping for the direction of the conversation. He knew all too well that Rener rarely appeared without purpose, and his visit now only served to confirm Tomoya’s darkest suspicions. “What for?” he asked, his tone guarded. “And in case you’re here to see Takumi-niisan, he’s out.” Rener shook his head slowly, his expression unchanging. “No,” he replied, his gaze sharp, “I came to speak with you personally.” Tomoya’s guard rose, and he decided to press forward before Rener could steer the conversation further. “If you’re here to convince me to stop nii-san from opening the portal, you’ll be disappointed,” he said, his voice cool but unyielding. “Even if you’ve claimed his heart, his connection with Agatha can neve
In the cool, dim light of the police precinct’s entrance, Tomoya felt his nerves on edge, the weight of his recent discovery bearing down on him. The information he’d unearthed in the police database had made it painfully clear—Jess was no ordinary woman, and her connection to the Takahashi case was undeniable. Though his heart raced with the excitement of finally untangling some of the puzzle, his mind buzzed with the complications this revelation brought. He was drawn here, to this place, by an undeniable urge to confront Jess, yet as he crossed the threshold, he saw no familiar faces among the precinct’s busy, bustling crowd. No sign of Zach, Esmeralda, or anyone else he’d anticipated seeing. It was strange, but he felt a pull towards Dryzza, the detective whose skill had uncovered pivotal elements of the Takahashi case. Her name had popped up so often in his search that he felt almost as though he knew her—though not a face in the precinct was familiar to him. He hadn’t
The afternoon had settled into an unsettling quiet. The wind brushed gently, yet coldly, across the cityscape, weaving through empty alleyways and rustling through bare branches as though whispering secrets. The sky was cast in a muted gray, thick clouds obscuring any hint of sunlight and casting shadows across the streets. Distant sounds, a dog barking, a faint siren, echoed faintly and faded as quickly as they came, amplifying the eerie stillness. It was the kind of day where time seemed to pause, hanging heavy with an inexplicable weight, as if something significant were lurking just beyond the silence. From his vantage point on the hospital rooftop, Tomoya watched Esmeralda and Zach as they departed, their figures gradually disappearing into the distance. They had come, as Tomoya knew they would, to speak to Takumi, hoping he might grant them access to the ruins of the Takahashi manor. But as expected, Takumi had refused, his response curt and his demeanor wary. The weight
The stillness in the office was unsettling. Dryzza, Sai, and Esmeralda sat in their usual places, surrounded by the hum of electronics and the soft, indifferent ticking of the wall clock. Yet, despite the familiarity of the environment, everything felt different. Hours had passed since they had returned from the Takahashi manor, but the enormity of what they had encountered weighed down the room, lingering in the corners of their minds like an unspoken truth. It was already 8 in the morning, and the sunlight now filtered through the blinds, casting sharp shadows across their desks. But the brightness outside stood in stark contrast to the dark, unyielding silence that filled the room. None of them had spoken since their return. The quiet between them wasn’t simply a pause; it was a protective buffer, a space that allowed each to process the profound implications of the night’s events. Dryzza, usually quick to process and act, found herself staring blankly at her desk, the sig