Sashi was rembering recent events.
The day Dmitriy Volkov was captured — a key figure in the Mafia. One of those whose na was whispered even in the darkest corners of the city.
She had received a call:
"Lady Sashi. Dmitriy Volkov has been apprehended and taken to the hospital. He’s severely wounded — his thigh is pierced, and his arm has been severed. It’s confird: he is a demon."
"How long will his regeneration take?"
"Blood cell analysis revealed the subject is a descendant of Astaroth’s bloodline."
Sashi clenched the phone. Her fingers turned white.
"We estimate full regeneration in two days."
That was when the interrogation was scheduled.
Over the next few days, his body recovered. Every stage of regeneration was recorded on cara: stitched tissues, demonic veins pulsing, slowly regrowing flesh. On the third day, he regained consciousness.
The next morning, he was taken to the interrogation room.
A small chamber lit by a single yellow lamp. Empty, except for a table and two chairs. When Dmitriy ca to, he was already seated, his entire body shackled in thick chains — chest, wrists, legs.
Sashi had decided to be present for the interrogation herself.
She walked down the corridor, an agent following behind. The sound of her heels echoed against the walls, her gaze sharp as a blade.
They t face to face.
Volkov lifted his brown eyes and smirked:
"Well, well. Such an honor — to see the head of the Association in person."
Sashi said nothing. She sat across from him, flanked by the agent.
"So, what exactly would you like to ask ?"
The agent’s voice was cold as steel:
"No jokes. You’re suspected of attempted murders and abductions."
"Suspected — that’s the key word. Oh, co now, no need for those sharp looks. I never intended to interrupt."
"Human experintation. Extortion. You’re working with the Mafia."
Volkov smirked like it was a ga.
"Who knows? Maybe show so evidence that even I might find convincing?"
Sashi couldn’t stand his snide tone:
"Enough gas. Your life is on the line. Is the truth about the Mafia really worth more than that?"
"Worth more than my life? Let think. And what do I get in return for my truth?"
Sashi sighed heavily. He was smiling — and that calmness began to gnaw at her nerves.
Then he continued:
"You have no evidence. Just rumors from civilians and headlines about a girl hunting down Mafia heads. How quaint. Freedom and immunity — that’s what my work deserves in exchange."
The agent wanted to speak, but Sashi cut in, smirking:
"Your work? Huh, you really don’t get it. Cooperate — and you’ll rot in prison for the rest of ti. Refuse — and you die right here, right now. Fair enough, isn’t it?"
He gave a low chuckle.
"So it’s a bargain, then? And what do you want from , exactly?"
The agent responded:
"We want everything. Mafia operations, Umbra’s objectives, citizen recruitnt. Who gives your orders, where you get your intel."
"Ah, so that’s the ga. How deep have you dug already, I wonder. And you need — to make your job easier?"
"We’ll uncover everything with or without you," the agent snapped. "But only in one version do you stay alive. Astaroth’s heir or not — it doesn’t matter."
Dmitriy laughed. Even his eyes joined in.
"Well then. Prison and unlimited food, is it?"
Sashi and the agent exchanged looks. In the end — they agreed. Life imprisonnt with food, maximum security... and total isolation.
"Deal," said Volkov, surprising her.
Sashi hadn’t expected the negotiations to go so smoothly. In a way, she felt... disappointed.
"You’re pathetic. Are all Mafia like you?"
"I never liked them. My life is worth more than their secrets. Isn’t that why you bargained with ? Seems I’m more valuable than I thought. And judging by your eyes — you were ready for any answer I’d give."
But Volkov didn’t ntion the truth — that he’d foreseen the outco.He had deliberately offered a lowball demand... then swiftly accepted theirs, pushing both sides into a golden middle.
"Better to rot in a cell than be cut down by so girl with a katana," he added with a grin.
The lamp overhead flickered.
Sashi looked up. The lamp — the only source of light. And Volkov — the only source of truth.
Deep down, she could feel it: this all reeked of Umbra.
Volkov snapped her back to the mont:
"Shall we begin, then? Ask anything you like."
His smirk — the last thing her eyes would rember. What followed was the truth. The docunted truth of the Mafia’s plans.
Present day.
Penthouse. Night. The rooms were bathed in moonlight. Sashi stood at the kitchen counter, a glass of water in hand.
"I need to clear my head."
With her other hand, she covered a trembling eye.
"Another sleepless night... Just anxiety, everywhere. Everything seems stable, but... Umbra could strike at any mont. We still have holes in our defenses."
The catalyst of her fear were Volkov’s words — they echoed constantly.
"Civil war," he had said. "We gathered anyone willing to take in demon power. Even humans — fanatics who dream of demon rule. Madness, isn’t it? Soon, a riot will break out in the Orange Zone. Perfect timing, too — just when the people are planning a major protest."
But then — worse still:
"You probably haven’t even realized how bad it is. Animals are infected. Birds too. All residents of the Orange Zone. With a snap of the fingers — they’ll beco monsters."
"A snap of the fingers?" the agent had asked. "Are you referring to a demon in Umbra who can control mutation?"
"To him, yes. For three years, the Mafia has been acting under Umbra’s rule. And that’s nothing compared to how far they’ve reached. Even your ’Closed Gate’ law protecting the Green Zone... won’t save you."
Those words pierced Sashi’s mind like needles. She downed the glass and swallowed a pill.
"Not the ti to collapse. Just... hold on a bit longer. But what if it really is the end? What if we’re going to lose?"
Morning. Association Headquarters.
"Director!" her assistant called. "We’ve received an urgent ssage."
"Hm? From whom?"
"Straight from Oblivion prison. Sender: Kang Suwon."
Oblivion — a high-security prison at the base of the mountains.Every inch guarded. Every soldier fully ard.Demons and criminals buried deep in concrete cells.
"Kang Suwon..."
The ssage contained a single request: a face-to-face eting.
She didn’t hesitate. Within the hour, she was there — facing the prisoner through bulletproof glass.
"Mr. Suwon..."
"Good to see you again, Sashi."
He had aged. Grayed. A shadow of his forr self.
"What did you want to speak to about?"
"After the recent news... I’ve heard everything."
"You an Mordred’s appearance? We still know nothing about his identity. Do you have a theory?"
"No... I ant Lee Yeonho."
Sashi had nearly forgotten that na.
Suwon, visibly shaken, whispered:
"His return will bring disaster... If he’s back, then Astaroth must be as well. Their battle is finally over. But why... why did Yeonho survive? Why did the Demon King let him go?"
"We don’t know. But why do you believe Astaroth is alive? If Lee Yeonho survived, doesn’t that an he won? Or... is it sothing else?"
Suwon swallowed. His eyes widened. His shoulders trembled.
"Don’t let... Lee Kihyun et his father."
Of course, such a eting wasn’t likely. Sashi had hidden Yeonho’s location — but even so, his words disturbed her.
"He won’t find him. What do you an?"
"...If the son touches the father — their mories will rge. Everything one knows, the other will know. And when that happens... disaster is inevitable. Kihyun will discover... the Familial mories."
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