Two Hours Later
* * *
The Guild, with its fifty-year history, has built up one hell of a paper trail. As the largest private Exorcist outfit in Akai City, the Red Guild runs a tight ship.
Archives are spotless. Everything catalogued down to the last corpse. They’ve even assigned special case numbers to incidents resolved by the Akai family.
The last thirty years are digitized—pulling files is as easy as typing a na.
Their attitude’s garbage, but the paperwork’s solid.
And buried deep in that pile of bureaucracy, a na surfaces.
A Demon-worshipping cult called the Hidden Fla.
They used to operate in Akai City. Committing murder, kidnapping, and demonic rites.
Their specialty? Turning kidnapped civilians into Demons and sending them ho.
Thirty-three recorded incidents in a single month. Over three hundred casualties.
The root of the madness? It stretches further back—when a young Jinichiro Akai slew the Demon nad Homura.
That’s the trigger. The cult was born out of grief and spite.
Since they couldn’t strike at the Akai family directly, they lashed out in random acts of terror.
Eventually, they just... faded.
No crackdown. No final blow. They just went quiet and kept that way.
Then I think about how, two days ago, Coral Eldarian went up in flas.
The attack involved fire-based techniques and Demon control—exactly what the records describe.
All of it points to one thing.
Old grudge. Long fuse. Big bang.
These bastards had two decades to get ready. They’ve been biding their ti.
Now they’ve made their move. Pri suspects for sure.
I download everything tied to the Hidden Fla onto a USB. Back it up with hard copies, just in case.
Then I step out of the archive room.
“Oh my. Perfect timing.”
And there she is again. The noble girl inspector.
“I was just about to force myself to finish this awful tea.”
She sets her steaming cup down with a grimace. Barely a sip taken.
I ask, “Were you waiting for ?”
“Hardly. I’ve been inspecting the Guild’s operations. Just happened to finish as you ca out. Figured I may as well have a talk.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because your investigation caught my attention.”
“My investigation?”
“Have you identified the hostile organization?”
“I have. Tentatively.”
“You don’t look like much, but apparently you’re not completely useless.”
“…People like to say I’m a hidden gem.”
“I didn’t ask.”
She laughs—just a little. Dry and amused.
Talk about annoying.
She asks, “So? Who are they?”
“Asking for details? That takes on a different aning.”
“What’s that supposed to an?”
“Forgive , my lady, but I still don’t know your na. If you’d share your purpose for asking, I’d appreciate it. Given recent events... I hope you’ll understand my caution.”
I bow politely.
She adjusts her brooch and tie, then lifts her chin with practiced grace.
“My, my, how careless of . I’m Ophelia Luxor, second daughter of the noble House of Count Luxor. I carry the pride of generations.
If you’ve never heard of us, I won’t fault you. A commoner raised in an orphanage can hardly be expected to know proper bloodlines… even one who serves the Akai.”
Arrogant to the bone. Textbook noble.
“Do people ever tell you you say one thing too many, Lady Ophelia?”
“No? Not at all.”
“I see.”
The na hits like a shock to the spine.
Count Luxor. English nobility. Allied with the Akai family.
My brain scrapes together scattered mories—I’ve t her before. Pretty sure, anyway.
I’ve got a few stories floating around about . Didn’t spread them myself—Master ran his mouth.
One of the big ones: Ikaku always settles the score. Even nobles apologize when they piss him off. That story? It starts with the Luxor family. Twelve years ago.
Feeling dizzy, I look her over again.
Golden hair. Crystal-clear blue eyes. A porcelain face and that insufferable little smirk.
Yep. It’s that brat from the dormitory.
The one I t the day I left the orphanage for Boot Camp.
“I’m afraid I lack the education to know you, Lady Ophelia.”
“Oh? You’ve truly never heard my na?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Hmm.”
She scans head to toe like she’s pricing a slab of at.
Honestly, it’s scary. Terrifying.
What does that hmm an? Does she actually recognize ? A no-na commoner she t once, twelve years ago?
No way… I hope.
“I visited Japan once, twelve years ago.”
That ca out of nowhere.
I say, “Then this must be your first ti back in quite a while.”
“I didn’t want to co. Never wanted to set foot in this country again.”
“I take pride in it being a wonderful country. Did you have so unpleasant experience?”
“There was this little shit of a kid.”
Is she talking about herself...?
“Uh... what kind of kid?”
“Rude. Arrogant. Absolutely insufferable.”
“Ah, I see. So literally what you said.”
“I’ll spare you the details. It’s not like I rember it all that well. It was so shocking that my mory’s hazy.
But I rember the feeling. I swear if I ever see that brat again, I’ll grab his head like this and—”
She makes a claw with her fingers, miming a neck twist.
It almost feels like she ant to grab my head.
My knees lock.
Yep. This girl’s a nace.
“Because of that little punk, I hate Japan. I even took the trouble of studying the language before coming, and that’s what I got for it. Don’t you think that’s just awful?”
“Right. Absolutely unforgivable. To show such disrespect to soone as beautiful, lovely, noble, educated, strong, intelligent, and special as yourself!”
“Exactly. That’s right.”
She stares up at with those crystal blue eyes.
I can’t et them.
...Would she forgive if I apologize right now?
Reviews
All reviews (0)