Hours later, long after they had gone, a car rolled to a stop by the facility's side entrance.
The air outside was heavy, the kind that swallowed sound.
Footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor, measured and deliberate. The lights remained off, and the darkness pressed against the walls, making the place feel less like a laboratory and more like a tomb.
Something metallic clinked softly. The sound of gloves sliding on steel.
And then, silence.
Shin stood before the corpse draped in a white sheet, his expression unreadable.
The air around him grew heavy, oppressive, so much so that any ordinary human would've collapsed under the pressure.
A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the room for a heartbeat.
Shin lifted the white sheet. His eyes glowed red, and a dark mist unfurled from him, writhing and thrashing like a living storm.
The corpse beneath the sheet began to convulse. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the room, sharp and unnatural.
The black mist thickened, swirling faster, and then a faint red smoke rose from the body like magma forcing its way to the surface.
Raising the dead was among Shin's lesser abilities as a Demon King, yet even that was enough to shake this fragile realm.
The world itself rebelled against him, its skies darkening, winds howling, rain pounding against the windows like a tantrum thrown by the heavens.
He exhaled, faintly amused.
Tristan would probably scold him again for using his powers so carelessly. But this realm was too weak to handle even a fraction of his strength.
Still, relying on human methods would take too long. And time was something he couldn't waste.
Wouldn't it be more efficient to ask the source directly?
Before him, the corpse suddenly sat upright. Its eyes snapped open and now glowing a deep, eerie violet.
"Tell me everything," Shin murmured.
The corpse raised its trembling hand. Strange, glowing runes crawled from its palm up to its arm. Then it spoke in the harsh, guttural cadence of the demon tongue.
While the storm outside intensified. Rain battered the walls and lightning tore across the sky. Inside, cracks split across the corpse's skin. Its body was deteriorating rapidly, crumbling under the weight of Shin's power.
"Tch." Shin clicked his tongue and withdrew his energy.
Any longer, and the body would've disintegrated like that suicide bomber's, reduced to ash by his mere touch.
A menacing smile tugged at his lips. He looked up, noticing the ceiling trembling and splintering from the surge of demonic energy.
With a casual wave of his hand, he restored everything to its original state, walls, lights, even the scent of ozone fading as if nothing had happened.
Outside, the storm ceased.
Just like that.
Those caught in it stood speechless, staring at the suddenly clear sky.
At a nearby convenience store, a couple soaked to the bone, took shelter under the awning.
The girl reached for an umbrella, but her boyfriend nudged her and pointed outside.
"Hey, look. The rain just stopped."
"What's with this weather?" she muttered, scowling. "The forecast didn't say anything about a sudden heavy rain. Those weather guys need to get their act together."
---
Meanwhile, on the west side of Sin City.
Sergei Ricci had just parked beneath his apartment building when he was ambushed.
He hadn't even turned off the ignition before three men slipped into his car, one in the passenger seat, two in the back.
"Who the hell are you?" Sergei demanded. "I'm Sergei Ricci. You touch me, and you won't live to see another day in this city."
His tone was steady, but his eyes betrayed his panic.
Outside, he spotted three more figures, waiting, watching.
The man in the passenger seat chuckled softly and lit a cigarette. Smoke curled lazily in the confined space.
"Thank you for the introduction," he said with a smirk. "You're polite. I thought I'd have to pull out your tongue first."
Sergei's jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. Normally, his guards accompanied him everywhere but never inside the building. He liked his privacy.
That mistake might cost him his life tonight.
"You're from the mafia?" he asked cautiously. "Which clan sent you?"
The man ignored the question and pulled a photograph from his coat, holding it up.
"You know this guy?"
Sergei squinted at the picture, then shook his head. "No. Never seen him. Why?"
Loki tilted his head, smoke drifting from his lips.
"Hmm… strange. I could've sworn the men tailing that girly worked for your organization. So that means Rogue guy should be on your payroll too, right?"
Sergei's eyes flickered with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
He reached toward the window, hoping to crack it open as the smoke was suffocating.
Unexpectedly, they didn't stop him.
Sergei rolled down the window halfway, waving his hand as if to shoo away the cigarette smoke. He felt indignant, how dare a mere mafia dog act so casually in front of him?
Once he got out of here, he'd make sure these bastards learned what it meant to offend a Ricci.
"Riri, what were your people doing following Lucia Hera?" Loki asked lazily.
Sergei froze.
What… did he just call him?
His veins bulged in fury. "Are you insane? I told you, I don't know anyone you mentioned! Why don't you call your boss and let me talk to him instead? Ambushing someone clearly violates mafia code!"
Loki laughed, flicking his ash out the window. "How did you know I'm insane? Junho said if I act normal, no one will notice. You're good, Riri. I think I like you now."
Sergei: "…"
One of the men seated behind cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"Young Master Ricci, we have authorization to investigate. The man in this photo is Rogue and was tailing a woman named Lucia Hera. Before him, the ones monitoring her were from your organization. For what reason?"
He showed Sergei a recent CCTV capture: several men loitering near an apartment complex.
Sergei's eyes narrowed. He recognized those men immediately, they were his. But the order hadn't come from him.
He didn't even know who Lucia Hera was.
Then a name crossed his mind, and his expression darkened even further.
"Aha! The boss!" Loki suddenly exclaimed, answering his ringing phone. He glanced at Sergei and grinned before putting it on speaker.
"Sergei Ricci…"
The deep, magnetic voice on the other end carried an almost lazy tone.
Sergei's fury spiked the moment he heard it.
"Shin Keir! You dare send a lunatic to harass me? Do you think you're untouchable? If you wanted to know something, you could've asked me directly!"
"I remembered you like surprises," Shin replied mildly. "Look at you, overreacting again."
Sergei's heart skipped. That voice, that teasing tone, it brought back an unwanted memory of a certain 'prank' back in high school that nearly gave him a heart attack.
"Enough," he growled. "What do you want?"
In the background, the sound of honking cars bled through the speaker. Shin was clearly driving, probably stuck in traffic yet still terrifyingly calm.
"Nothing," Shin said indifferently. "I was just bored… and thought of you."
For anyone else, especially women, those words might have sounded charming, heart-fluttering, even. But to Sergei, they felt like a knife hovering over his throat.
Being thought of by Shin Keir was never a blessing. It was a signed and sealed death threat.
"Who the hell wants your attention?!" Sergei snapped. "If you're that bored, go bother my sister! I don't have time for your twisted games!"
"Oh? Your family's always wanted my attention and now that I'm giving it to you, you suddenly don't want it?" Shin's tone was casual, almost amused.
Sergei's anger faltered.
He remembered what his father told him about his mother 'teaching Shin Keir a lesson', and as for Calin's daily obsession with Shin Keir, that was practically her routine. Nothing new there.
He didn't know what Shin said to the lunatic beside him, but the next thing he knew, Loki ended the call, flashed him a cheery smile, and told the others, "Let's go."
That was it?
No threats, no warnings, just that?
The silence that followed made Sergei even more uneasy.
His nerves tight, Sergei, who'd originally just wanted to collapse in bed after an overtime abandoned the thought of rest entirely. Instead, he gripped the wheel and drove straight to his family's mansion.
---
It was past midnight when Calin's door burst open.
She stirred groggily, barely processing the sound of heavy footsteps before a strong hand yanked her upright.
The next second-
Slap!
Her head whipped sideways, crashing against her pillow. Her lip split, and the metallic tang of blood reached her tongue.
The sting hit a moment later.
Blinking through the dizziness, she touched her cheek in disbelief and found Sergei standing over her, his face red, his eyes wild.
"Awake?" he hissed. "Or do you want me to throw a bucket of cold water next?"
"You— you slapped me?" Calin's voice trembled, her chest rising and falling fast. "You actually slapped me?!"
Ignoring the fact that Sergei had barged into her room at that hour, she stumbled toward her mirror.
The reflection staring back at her was a swollen cheek, blood on her lip that made her shriek.
"You sick, sick bastard! Have you finally lost it?!" she screamed, pointing at him before lunging like a wildcat.
Sergei, still burning with fury, shoved her back and she slammed hard against the wall.
"If I'm sick, then what about you?" he shouted. "You stare at the mirror all day didn't you ever realize how ugly you are? I told you, don't drag me into your obsession with that lunatic Shin Keir! Did you ever listen?!"
"Ahhh! Sergei, you want to kill me?! I'll fight you to death!" Calin howled, hurling anything she could grab from her vanity.
Sergei dodged, snatched the compact mirror, and hurled it back. It shattered against the wall beside her.
Calin froze, staring at the cracked plaster, eyes wide in disbelief. Her brother wasn't just angry. He meant it.
"You're insane! You want to harm me? Fine! Wait till Mom hears about this!"
Sergei laughed bitterly. "Mom? That woman only cares about you and your delusions! The two of you sit around all day while I break my back at the company!"