ZEKE'S POV
*BOOOOM!*
The explosion was so powerful that I felt the ground shake. Was this Demon’s doing again? What does she really gain by causing all this chaos? Killing and taking the masks to control the entire underground—what’s the point? Money? Is money the reason?
*Rustle*
*Rustle*
“Sir, someone is coming,” one of my soldiers reported.
I focused my senses to locate the source of the rustling. It grew faster and faster, then suddenly stopped.
“Sharpen your senses. She’s just around the corner,” I ordered.
“Sir, what if it’s Demon?” another soldier asked, clearly nervous.
I glared at him. “Isn’t it obvious? If it’s Demon, we kill her.”
“Yes, sir!”
They looked around, but the target wasn’t on the ground. She was sitting atop a tree, cradling her feet. She was wearing... an angel costume?
“Does it suit me? I had a hard time with these wings and this halo,” she said, adjusting the wings.
“It doesn’t suit you,” I replied bluntly.
She gasped dramatically and glared at me. “Don’t say that! It took me 30 minutes to get this right. You should be thankful your life was extended by 30 minutes.”
“An angel costume doesn’t suit someone like you because you’re Demon,” I shot back.
She pretended to faint, clutching her chest. “You are so racist to demons!”
“Stop this nonsense. Do you need money? I’ll give it all to you,” I said, signaling my unit to stay put. “But remember, money can’t buy happiness.”
“Eeecckk, you’re wrong. It can be bought,” she answered confidently.
Tch, this nonsense needs to end.
*BOOOOOOOM!*
A new explosion rocked the area. So it wasn’t Demon who did it—wait, Demon? I looked up, but she was gone. Suddenly, I heard the screams and cries of my unit as Demon killed them one by one.
“Is this the best unit they sent you? They belong in a circus. I didn’t even break a sweat,” Demon taunted, emerging from the woods. Her white wings were now stained red with blood.
“You think this is funny?” I snarled, drawing my sword.
“Actually, yes,” she replied with a grin. “It’s hilarious.”
I lunged at her, but she easily dodged, laughing as she moved. Her movements were fluid, almost dance-like, as she evaded my attacks. The dramatic flair of her costume contrasted sharply with the deadly precision of her strikes.
“You’re a monster,” I spat, trying to land a hit.
“Correction,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m *the* monster.”
With a swift motion, she parried my attack and countered with a kick to my midsection, sending me sprawling. I quickly recovered and charged again, our blades clashing in a flurry of sparks.
“You’re wasting your time, Zeke. You can’t beat me,” she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery.
“I’ll die trying,” I growled, pressing my attack.
