Chapter Forty-Three: Yesterday Once More

Fortunately, it seemed I had been overthinking things.

Ascending from the other side of the stairwell, Faga created noise in the distance, drawing away the demons lurking near the corridor. Strangely, although we had bathed, the stench of corpses remained inexhaustible, as if it emanated from the entire building.

Lamia asked, “Why isn’t it like this downstairs?”

Tony replied, “Perhaps it’s the demons; they are inherently foul.”

This was our first time infiltrating a demon’s lair—perhaps this was to be expected. Yet after climbing another ten flights, Le Gang noticed that while the demons had vanished here, the stench only grew stronger.

The hallway was spotless, as if cleaned repeatedly. The lights flickered, their glow like a phantom, appearing and vanishing. I felt as if faces watched me from the walls, but when I looked closely, there was nothing. I swore I heard the cries of little girls, not just them—old men, women, men, wailing, cheering… They had once lived here. Did their brainwaves still linger?

Le Gang asked, “Tony, where’s the person you’re looking for?”

Tony ran his hand along the wall and sighed, “Not here—still further up.”

I said, “I’m starting to suspect you’re leading us on!”

Tony shouted, agitated, “Why would I do that? My family’s missing, several of my brothers are dead! There’s no turning back for me!”

I couldn’t out-argue him. I fell silent—he had lost the most, so his protests were the loudest.

Faga said, “If all goes well, when you go downstairs you should check the west garage.”

I asked, “What’s there?”

Faga replied, “A vehicle. I’ve already opened the hatch for you.”

I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it Yune?”

Faga said, “It’s a small, clean nuclear transport vehicle—not as large as Yune, but with ample energy and easier to operate.”

Lamia and I were delighted—an unexpected windfall.

Counting the floors, we had reached the thirty-eighth. The destination was close. Unfortunately, the stairwell ahead was blocked again. Le Gang sighed, “We’ll have to detour. Be extremely careful.”

As we stepped into the corridor, the lights abruptly went out—darkness absolute, nothing visible. We tensed, prepared for danger, ready to fight.

Le Gang called, “Faga?”

No answer. I said, “Someone cut the power.”

Suddenly, my Odin’s Eye allowed me to hear faint breathing above us. I said, “Above!”

A black shadow lunged. I raised my Thunderblade and saw, for the first time, a slender, serpentine demon, covered in snake-like scales, hidden in the dark. The demon kicked Mjolnir from my hand—the Thunderblade fell, its light extinguished.

Le Gang had already transformed into a werewolf, his claws tearing one shadow demon apart. But in an instant, many more swarmed him, biting with a frenzy. Though Le Gang’s fur was like armor, their teeth were razor sharp—I heard him cursing furiously.

I drew my dagger, moved closer to Lamia, and shouted, “They’re more adept at fighting in darkness than we are!”

Lamia fumbled for her flashlight; a shadow demon instantly crushed it. I used my Shepherd’s Shield to protect us both. Lamia brandished her longsword; we stood back to back. These shadow demons were like chameleons, not merely invisible to night vision—they were something more.

I yelled, “Soleil! Dead Bell! Are you alright?”

Soleil called back, “Still holding on!” Dead Bell grunted, as if struck.

I lashed out with mind blades, killing one. Lamia’s strikes kept missing—in this darkness, we were nearly blind. Her usual strength and precision were useless.

I said, “We need to regroup with Soleil and Dead Bell! For now, survival depends on the Marquis.”

Lamia nodded. She drew a flare gun and fired; a faint red glow appeared on the floor. The shadow demons snuffed it out, but in that brief instant, we reached Dead Bell and Soleil. Both were wounded—an ordinary person would have died long ago, but as revenants, their injuries were not severe.

Soleil asked, “What about Tony and the others?”

I replied, “We can’t help them now!”

Just then, from a dark corner, someone began praying—hurried, fearful, sorrowful, devout.

It was Tony.

He recited:

“Night of darkness, moon of chaos,
We are lost in terror, seeking the palace of the sun.
We do not fear death, nor do we fear blood.
We only fear never again seeing sunlight’s blaze, that hope of immortality lost forever.
O Sun King, it was you who led me to kill my child, our child, and sent your messenger to open the wall of seals for us.
O Sun King, you said my child was beyond cure, his life forfeit, and only by finding you could he rise from death.
Come, Sun King, we have come this far. We are close to you—grant me the blood of immortality, help me break free from my cocoon and become a butterfly.”

That prayer devoured me like a cold abyss—my blood felt frozen.

I realized we’d been deceived! Tony’s child hadn’t disappeared; he’d been terminally ill, and Tony had quietly killed him—perhaps other children as well.

He believed he could resurrect them; he wanted to spread panic, force the residents to agree to unseal the wall.

We had arrived at just the right moment—he used us, escorting him upwards, believing us to be the Sun King’s envoys. Like Orchid, he was searching for something in this skyscraper.

Perhaps like Orchid’s red effigy.

I cursed furiously, “Bastard! Bastard! I’ll kill you!”

Suddenly, Tony’s body radiated a bloody light. The shadow demons did not see Tony, and the claws about to strike him turned on his companions instead. Tony wept and trembled, “Thank you, Sun King! Thank you for opening the way for me!”

I snapped awake—unleashing my shadow. In darkness, the shadow moved unimpeded; its vision became mine, its instincts mine. The shadow struck with a dagger, sword-light flaring like a swarm of bees, wounding the surrounding shadow demons. They were agile, but not so resilient as the white demons. I unleashed a flurry of Stone Pinen, crushing the demon assassins. Frightened, they fled to the ceiling to regroup.

My shadow tossed Mjolnir back to me—the Thunderblade’s light illuminated several meters. Lamia recovered her flashlight. In its glow, Soleil and Dead Bell each slew a few more demons. But the sight remained terrifying: over a hundred shadow demons still clung to the ceiling, far too many for us to handle. We had been under siege nearly an hour—perhaps dawn was near.

Lamia asked, “Marquis?”

A two-meter-tall bat drifted to the floor, clutching another strange white demon—I recognized the one who had ambushed Bella: Tanky.

Le Gang returned to human form and said to Tanky, “Call off these demons!”

Tanky sighed and chanted loudly. The shadow demons quickly scattered, ebbing away like a retreating tide.

I asked, “What happened?”

Le Gang gripped Tanky’s neck. “All these demons were summoned by him. I had a brief chat with him—we came to an understanding. He agreed not to obstruct us obtaining the statue.”

Lamia laughed, “Your negotiation methods are hardly gentle.”

Tanky gritted his teeth, “You know demon contracts well. I can only… only comply. I hope I won’t regret it.”

Le Gang proclaimed, “My contract is simple: grant my request, and I’ll fulfill your wish. Refuse, and I’ll destroy you.”

Tanky snarled, “Fine! Fine! So be it!”

Le Gang released him. Tanky bowed and backed to the window, sprouted wings, and flew off as a demon.

I guessed Le Gang perhaps knew how to deal with demons—he was not only brave and strong, but learned as well.

Le Gang checked his watch. “One hour to sunrise.”

Tony’s companions were all dead. I said, “Tony tricked us! Driven mad by the mysterious power here, he’s come for the Sun King!”

Lamia asked, “The one from Waterless Village?”

I said urgently, “We mustn’t let him succeed!”

But thinking further—even if Tony found some statue, so what? Orchid had needed days to become a monster.

Tony needed sunlight—perhaps prolonged exposure to awaken this so-called Sun King.

Le Gang said, “We’re here for the Ikes Goddess Statue. If Tony wants to awaken the Sun King, let him.”

I said, “If Tony really succeeds, every living being in this skyscraper—human or demon—will… become part of the Sun King.”

And I doubted there was any aquarium here capable of containing it.

Le Gang said, “We’ll find a way. But first, let’s handle our business.”

We reached the fortieth floor without much effort. Le Gang sniffed, “He’s gone higher. For now, let’s see if the Ikes statue is in the auction house.”

The stench on this floor was nearly unbearable—even after all the horror below, this was a new level. The plaques on the office doors had long since corroded; it was impossible to tell which room was the auction house’s vault.

Le Gang said, “We can’t split up. We’ll check each one—if it’s an antique auction house, we’ll spot it at once.”

There had been a fight here once—time had not erased the traces—but apparently not with demons. The lower-floor demons avoided this place; who knew what they feared?

Most of the shops sold trinkets. I couldn’t resist pocketing a few pieces of jewelry. Lamia whispered, “Hey, stop slacking.”

I coughed and asked, “Marquis, what was Tanky’s real motive? You said he wanted to stop us finding the statue?”

Le Gang replied, “His real target was you. He can’t touch the statue—the curse on it paralyzes, drives one to suicide. Even I can barely resist, but you survived its effects twice.”

I nodded. “So he was lying in wait here.”

Le Gang said, “He could have waited until we retrieved the statue, but this building unsettled him—forced him to act sooner.”

I said, “Perhaps because of the Sun King.”

Le Gang answered, “Maybe the Sun King—or just this stench.”

I asked, “And the contract you made with Tanky—what was it?”

Le Gang bowed apologetically. “Forgive me, but allow me to keep that confidential for now.”