She knew there was something wrong with this world!
Ophelia screamed inwardly, her small face, already pale from fear, now drained of its last drop of color.
She stood frozen on the spot, as if a Freeze spell had been cast upon her.
Her beautiful large eyes were filled with extreme terror of the unknown, staring fixedly at Bloodsong, who had instantly reverted to his Dvorin half-demon form.
On the other side, Bloodsong himself was startled by this sudden turn of events.
His pair of dark red goat horns swayed awkwardly in the air.
He had originally thought that since he had already brought the person inside the barrier and she was about to head upstairs for serious business, his task as a guide was successfully completed.
He couldn't possibly maintain his Polymorph spell indefinitely just to accommodate a normal secular girl, could he?
That wouldn't fit his professional standards as a bartender.
So, he had simply dismissed the spell and returned to his original form.
Who could have guessed that this girl wouldn't follow the usual routine and would suddenly turn back!
Ophelia's shrill, blood-curdling scream instantly shattered the quiet, sophisticated atmosphere within the barrier.
It also made the bored transcendent patrons downstairs instantly light up, like sharks catching the scent of blood.
Who would have thought that this dull night could provide such concentrated entertainment!
First, a pure-looking young man arrived who hadn't even heard of the famous Resurrection Society.
Now, in the blink of an eye, a beautiful mortal girl had been brought in?
"Hahahaha!"
The burly man from before let out a booming laugh, the beer in his hand spilling out as he shook.
"Bloodsong, look at that face of yours!"
In the corner, a scrawny old man couldn't help but rap on the table in amusement.
"You'd better pull those horns back in! Look how you've terrified the poor girl!"
Amidst the malicious laughter, Ophelia looked like a frightened fawn.
She began to retreat slowly and aimlessly, her shoes tapping a frantic rhythm on the wooden floor.
As the girl backed away, Bloodsong, who had wanted to step forward and explain, found himself at a loss.
"Miss, please calm down!"
Bloodsong raised his hands helplessly, trying to show his gentler side as a half-demon.
"I'm really not a bad person!"
"This is just what I actually look like!"
However, his explanation only made things worse.
To Ophelia, his words sounded like the whispers of a demon.
Her pace quickened, and her legs were so weak she nearly tripped over her own feet.
"D-D-Don't come any closer!"
Ophelia's voice trembled, and the finger she pointed at Bloodsong was shaking violently.
"What... what exactly are you?!"
Bloodsong was now completely speechless.
He sighed and stood resignedly in place, like a red statue.
"Fine, fine. I won't come closer. I definitely won't come closer."
He pointed toward the stairs, his tone filled with exasperation.
"Good girl, just go up and find your person. I'll stay right here and watch you go."
What kind of mess was this!
If he had known, he never would have taken this unlucky guide job!
...
Meanwhile, inside the room on the second floor.
"Do you want to go down and take a look?"
Old Crowley, holding a cigar, stood before the one-way glass window that took up an entire wall.
He squinted his eyes, watching the farce unfolding downstairs with great interest.
After he'd had his fill, he turned his head and spoke to Ms. Sophia.
"Why don't you go?"
Sophia gave him a sharp, annoyed look.
"Don't use your sensitive identity as an excuse!"
"There are no outsiders in the tavern today."
Sophia picked up her crystal glass, her red lips parting as she delivered a stinging remark.
"If we're talking about the biggest outsiders here..."
Her beautiful eyes scanned back and forth between Crowley and Elias.
"It's you two—the pawns of the Wayland Shipping Company, each with your own hidden agendas."
"?"
"?"
As soon as those words were spoken, Elias and Captain Crowley turned their heads in perfect unison.
Their gazes met in mid-air, both of them seeing nothing but confusion on the other's face.
Why is this old sea dog looking at me?! Elias grumbled inwardly.
What is he so confused about?! He's the one who decided to be a smart-ass and provoke her!
I haven't said a single word. I'm the one who's getting caught in the crossfire here!
Caught in the crossfire? In the depths of his mind, Old Ed, who had been quietly watching the show, was currently stifling a laugh.
Elias could clearly hear the schadenfreude in the old ghost's voice.
"I think the lady is absolutely right," Old Ed commented solemnly.
"Aren't you both employees of Wayland?"
"One captain and one keeper. Together, you're the perfect representatives of the company."
"Lady?" Elias turned his gaze toward Sophia.
Based on her current appearance, this woman calling herself Sophia Merskael appeared to be between forty and fifty years old—the golden age of a mature woman.
But as a transcendent, her actual age was undoubtedly much greater than she appeared.
After all, time tended to leave fewer marks on people like them.
However, even with her mature charm, her exquisite features and the way she carried herself couldn't erase the fact that she must have once been a great beauty.
"Oh, right."
Elias let out a cold laugh in his mind. "Only an antique like you, who's been dead for over half a century, would have the nerve to call her a girl..."
Just as Elias and Old Ed were passionately bickering in his head, Old Crowley suddenly wiped the amused expression from his face.
He turned around, his eyes burning as they fixed on Elias.
"So..."
The old man's voice became low and serious.
"What do you think about the pendulum?"
Hearing this question, Elias finally snapped back from his wandering thoughts.
He dropped his playful facade, leaning forward slightly with his hands crossed on the table.
"I'll be honest with you, Whitebeard."
Elias looked Old Crowley straight in the eye, deciding to voice some of his genuine concerns.
"That pendulum is engraved with a Storm Judge emblem."
His tone was very grave.
"Once that thing sees the light of day, the unique spiritual fluctuations it emits will be immediately tracked by the Seventh Agency and the Storm Inquisition."
"I've hidden it in a..."
Elias paused, using a relatively vague term.
"...an isolated, secret place where detection is completely blocked."
He was referring to the Gluttonous Stomach, but he obviously couldn't say that out loud.
"Especially in a place like Hastings Port, where various supernatural factions are so deeply intertwined."
Elias tapped the table, emphasizing the stakes involved.
"If the pendulum appears in the material world for even a moment, it will absolutely draw the joint pursuit of two, or even multiple, factions."
"When that happens, forget about handing it over to you—I'll lose my life in the process."
"I'm aware of that."
Crowley nodded, clearly having anticipated these risks.
"In that case, if you can't hand it over to me safely..."
The old man took a deep drag of his cigar and blew out a perfect smoke ring.
"Then there's only one way."
"What way?" Elias asked warily.
"You come with me."
Crowley's gaze suddenly became sharp.
"To reinforce the seal."
He spoke in a tone that was almost a command.
"Actually, you don't really have a choice, do you?"
"I can give you the method to lift the dream demon curse right now."
"But the prerequisite is that you must be responsible for bringing it out at the most critical moment."
Hearing this ultimatum, Elias leaned back against his chair, his mind racing as he frantically weighed the pros and cons.
"You know, Captain Crowley," Elias said slowly after a moment, his voice carrying the coolness of a businessman.
"All transactions and cooperation..."
"...must be established, at the very least, on the basis of guaranteeing my safety."
If he was dead, what was the point of lifting the curse?
"Of course."
Crowley took it as a given; he seemed to have long ago seen through Elias's underlying fear of death.
"How about this?"
The old man flicked his cigar ash and threw out his bargaining chip.
"Regardless of what unexpected situations we encounter in the ruins..."
"At the very least, I will use my life to ensure you return alive."
He looked Elias in the eye. "What do you think?"
Elias fell silent.
The condition was indeed very tempting.
If he could rid himself of that damned dream demon curse and no longer have to live in constant fear of the hallucinations that could strike at any moment...
And with this unfathomably powerful old man providing muscle by his side...
Although Crowley's promise might not be a hundred percent reliable, going on this trip wouldn't necessarily be a death trap.
The gains outweighed the risks.
"Fine," Elias nodded, agreeing straightforwardly.
"Don't be happy too soon, kid."
Seeing Elias nod, Captain Crowley suddenly began to laugh.
There was a thick scent of a shrewd merchant in that smile.
"Lifting the curse also requires a key supernatural material."
The old man spoke slowly.
"It's practically a unique item."
"And as luck would have it, I happen to have it right here."
He watched Elias's expression gradually stiffen, the smile at the corner of his mouth deepening.
"But I'll only give it to you after the business with the ruins is completely finished."
"Motherf—"
Rate on N.U.
