"No, it’s not that bad, but it’s not that simple either."
For a moment, Nelli didn’t know how to explain, so he just gestured for Vika to come over quickly.
Leaving the office and returning to the restless bar, Vika could clearly sense a change in the atmosphere. The intoxicating joy had vanished, and suddenly, it seemed everyone was sober, whispering in the darkness, discussing something.
"What’s going on?" Vika asked.
"There’s been an incident at Norm Ward." Another person stepped forward and whispered to Vika.
Vika maintained a calm exterior. This situation didn’t surprise him.
He was well aware of the kind of business Norm was running and knew about the so-called "Man-eaters." More importantly, he knew that Bologue represented Lebius, the Order Bureau.
What would happen when these two groups met was all too predictable.
"Is Norm dead?" Vika asked calmly.
"It could be worse than that. Do you want to take a look?"
The person continued, catching Vika’s attention. He looked at Nelli.
"I’ll leave this to you for now. I’ll be back soon."
Some people left the bar with Vika. They formed a crowd, and the usually deserted street became uncharacteristically crowded. Along the way, Vika noticed others heading toward Norm’s clinic.
Wandering Path had been quiet for too long, with no sensational events happening for a while, except for the business that Norm operated.
The demons hidden in Wandering Path were all Norm’s clients. They were anxiously eager to know about Norm’s situation, not out of concern for him, but because they cared about those sweet Philosopher’s Stones.
These demons lingered in Wandering Path, lacking the courage to leave and face the ironclad Order Bureau. They could only survive here, seeking the slightest bit of soul to fill their hungry void.
Before long, Vika arrived at Norm’s clinic, where some people had already gathered. They stood at a distance, watching everything that was happening.
Vika walked up the rugged path and entered Norm’s clinic.
In an instant, the stench of blood hit him, almost overwhelming his senses. He focused his gaze and saw a layer of dried blood covering the floor, each step producing a sticky resistance.
The demon’s corpse lay sprawled to one side, its face frozen in the terror of its final moments, mouth agape, with the faint cries of its departed soul echoing.
"It was like a massacre; these people didn’t stand a chance."
Someone said from the side, accustomed to the presence of demons. In the depths of Wandering Path, there were far stranger things than demons. What truly shocked them was how easily these demons were killed.
Like lambs, they were effortlessly slaughtered.
"The secret door is up ahead, but there’s a heavy iron door at the end, and we can’t open it."
The person continued.
Vika didn’t speak but instead ventured into the dark passage. The iron door loomed before him, covered in dents, as if someone had tried to force their way through, ultimately failing.
He reached out, pressing his hand against the edge of the iron door frame. Vika inhaled deeply as a strange energy coursed through him, enveloping his body. He struck the frame with both hands, and immediately, a violent rumble ensued. Dust and debris fell as the iron door trembled a few times and then toppled backward.
After a series of metallic clangs, the door opened, revealing an even bloodier hell.
"Is this how he got in?"
Vera looked up, seeing the large hole that Bologue had smashed through. The ceiling collapsed in segments, crushing everything in its path.
"That’s Reid; he’s dead too."
Someone found Reid’s head in a corner and kicked it a few times, revealing a ghastly, terror-stricken face, akin to the other corpses.
After the initial shock, people became curious about what these victims had seen before they died.
"Where’s Norm? Has anyone seen Norm?"
Vika asked loudly, determined to figure out what was going on. Was the Order Bureau preparing to act against the "Man-eaters"?
Or was it... that another colossal force had returned, and this was merely a forewarning of their return?
Vika felt a chill in his heart.
"No, we haven’t found his body. He might have escaped."
Someone responded, but Vika didn’t think so. The Order Bureau had come knocking, and they wouldn’t let it go so easily.
The others were busy searching, their interests aligned with Vika’s. Though Wandering Path was a Land of Chaos, it was also their last sanctuary, and they couldn’t tolerate its destruction.
Thus, under these many dark aspirations, more and more people living in the shadows of Wandering Path began to revere the name "Tyrant."
A piercing wail suddenly rang out, and Vika’s gaze snapped in the direction of the sound. In the collapsed ruins, a scarred hand reached out, its face completely covered in grayish-white dust, resembling a frozen sculpture.
It was the sole survivor, pinned beneath the rubble, its flesh torn and mangled, but it had survived the claws of the Evil Spirit.
The madness brought on by Bulimia Nervosa should have driven it to complete insanity, but even beasts possess instincts. In the face of extreme fear, its instincts had summoned back a sliver of sanity, like a deranged patient, it kept wailing.
"The Evil Spirit is here! It will devour everyone!"
The nightmare lingered at its ears, endless whispers repeatedly murmuring as if to tear through its eardrums, marching through the ear canal into the brain until the flesh beneath the skull boiled completely.
Vika quickly walked over, trying to pull it out of the rubble. But after moving a few pieces of debris, what he saw was a body pierced by steel, blood mixed with dust, forming dark red clots.
There’s no saving it.
Vika squatted down immediately, urgently asking.
"Evil Spirit... the green-eyed Evil Spirit."
The demon clung to Vika’s clothing, its eyes filled with terror reflecting Vika’s face. It repeated the name of the Evil Spirit, the cloying stench of blood spewing from its throat, striking Vika’s face.
"It’s here; we’re doomed."
Fear consumed its entire being, mechanically repeating this refrain.
Soon, its body stiffened, its grip loosening, lifelessly dropping as its gaze froze, like a murky crystal within which a blue apparition was encapsulated.
Vika murmured, the unease in his heart growing stronger until the echoing collapse reverberated.
Under Bologue’s violent demolition, this place was no longer safe, the buildings cracked and were on the verge of collapse.
At this moment, the remaining ceiling, centered on the huge hole, continued to crumble, with bricks and steel falling, engulfing the blood and corpses.
The collapse didn’t last long. The rumbling gradually subsided, and Vika stood, surveying his surroundings in the dense dust. Others also stood up; it seemed no one was injured.
More light poured in, illuminating the decay-filled dimness. Vika turned around, his body stiffening, standing motionless for a long time; the others were the same, their gaze fixed on a corner.
It was a wall hidden in the shadows, noticed by more people after the ceiling’s collapse.
Vika stepped over the corpses and rubble, approaching the wall, reaching out to gently touch it.
His fingers traced the knife marks carved onto the wall, entwined with dried blood, forming a mural of blades and blood.
"Evil Spirit, the green-eyed Evil Spirit."
Vika whispered, slowly retreating as the grotesque painting before him gradually came into focus.
It was as if a monster had swung against the wall, slender and hateful scratches spreading like lightning streaking across the sky. And beneath this lightning lay piles of demons’ corpses, heaped like trophies.
Later on, tales spread through Wandering Path, of a time unknown when an Evil Spirit emerged out of nowhere in Opus. No one knew where it came from or what its intent was; the only known fact was that it was hunting.
Hunting relentlessly, without end.