A cold wind swept through the alley, lifting dry, yellowed leaves into the air. Beneath a sky heavy with ominous clouds, a young girl in a leather trench coat gazed up at an eerie apartment building with a detached expression.
"The stench of malevolence. The intel was accurate. If no monsters remain here, then at least traces of them will."
Raising her hand, the girl glanced at the bracelet on her wrist, its faint glow confirming her suspicion. For a moment, her face showed emotion, but it wasn't the youthful innocence of someone her age—it was a grim determination that exuded malice.
Adjusting the weapons she carried, the girl strode into the abandoned, desolate apartment building.
The instant she entered, she froze. A pungent, nauseating stench of decay assaulted her senses. It was a smell she knew all too well from her short but harrowing career as an exorcist.
Her expression darkened, and she drew the twin pistols holstered at her waist, climbing the stairs with purposeful strides.
Moments later, inhuman howls echoed from the building, followed by deafening gunfire.
Bullets inscribed with exorcism runes lit up the darkened apartment as they left the barrel, their radiant energy scorching through the malevolent air. Weak, agonized shrieks reverberated briefly before the eerie silence returned.
The oppressive atmosphere that had loomed over the building dissipated.
Emerging from the building, the girl in the black trench coat appeared unchanged, as if she'd just completed a trivial task.
"Seventy-six."
She muttered the number under her breath. It was small to most, but to those in the exorcist trade, it carried significant weight—a testament to her ability and experience.
Upon returning to the secret headquarters of the exorcists, her arrival drew respectful and cautious glances.
Exorcists who completed their missions and returned intact were a rarity. The girl, a regular at the base, was well-known not only for her youthful appearance but for her relentless mission streak and high success rate.
"Did you clear out the evil spirits in the West Street apartment?" asked the bartender-looking overseer of the hub. Such disguises were common for exorcist gathering points, which often masqueraded as rundown bars.
"Yeah."
The girl ordered a glass of plain water and sat silently at the bar, her demeanor cold and distant.
"I've transferred your payment to your account. How long do you plan to rest this time?"
"I'm not resting. That job didn't take much out of me. I'm ready for another mission."
"No." The overseer shook his head firmly. "I don't have anything suitable for you right now."
"If that's the case, I'll head to another city and find work there," she replied, her calm eyes meeting his unwaveringly.
"Take a break, will you? Hunting evil spirits this relentlessly will get you killed sooner or later."
"I don't care."
The man sighed. "I know you want revenge, but revenge requires strength. Without it, even if you find the spirit that killed your parents, what can you do?"
The girl remained silent, but the flames of determination burned in her eyes.
"Fine. If you won't listen, I'll be blunt," the overseer continued. "Your talent as an exorcist may be above average, but compared to your parents, you're nothing. Do you know how far behind them you are? That spirit didn't just kill them—it toyed with them. And you think you can avenge them?"
"I will avenge them. No matter what," she said with unshakable resolve.
"With what? Do you know how wide the gap is between you and your parents, let alone that spirit? Evil spirits grow stronger by consuming souls. The longer you wait, the further behind you'll fall."
"So you're saying I should give up?"
"Sometimes giving up is the wiser choice. You're not the only one who wants that spirit dead. More talented exorcists are hunting it. Just wait."
"I can't," she said firmly. "I'll kill it myself."
With that, she ended the conversation and left, ignoring the overseer's attempts to stop her.
The girl withdrew from the public eye to focus on training. She knew she needed strength to enact her revenge. Without it, she'd only die in vain.
But life is unpredictable, and catastrophe often strikes without warning.
Boom!
A deafening explosion shattered the night, illuminating the girl's room as if it were midday.
Screams pierced the air—women crying, children wailing, men roaring in anger—only to be silenced moments later, replaced by panicked pleas for help:
"What is that monster? Help!"
"Mommy! Waaah!"
"Run! Run!"
The girl opened her eyes, her meditation interrupted. Her gaze fell to the glowing bracelet on her wrist. Its light was blinding, signaling an evil presence of overwhelming power.
Even she, normally calm, felt her heart race. Whatever this was, it far exceeded her capabilities.
Fight or flee?
The answer was clear. She could not die here—not before avenging her parents. Fighting now would mean certain death.
Grabbing her pistols and a longsword, she leapt from her balcony toward the chaos below. She was an exorcist, and protecting humanity from monsters was her sworn duty. Her father had taught her that much.
Crash!
The girl smashed through a storefront window, her body landing amid shattered glass and toppled shelves. Blood seeped from her wounds, and her breathing was labored.
Her vision blurred, and she felt her life slipping away. She was going to die—just as she had always imagined—battling a monster.
But she couldn't accept it. She hadn't avenged her parents.
Her fatal injury hadn't even come from direct combat. It was a casual strike from the leading spirit—a blow not even aimed at her but at another exorcist. She was merely collateral damage.
"Someone… save me," she whispered, her voice filled with despair and hatred. She reached out, praying to the void.
"I can't die. I have to avenge them!"
A voice, ethereal and distant, answered her plea:
"The desire to live is the most primal instinct. I can grant you life—and power. But what will you offer in return, mortal?"
Though fading fast, the girl responded without hesitation:
"Take everything. Whatever you want, it's yours."
The voice chuckled.
"Such naive desperation. You should be grateful I'm not a demon."
The next moment, her world was bathed in golden light. She glimpsed a radiant sun before searing warmth flooded her body, spreading from her heart outward.
Her wounds began to mend, and strength surged through her veins.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.