Eve was a bit dazed; she certainly understood the meaning of this term. Old Dunling was originally established by the Romans; they not only ushered in its glory but also brought faith. Although the influence of the Evangelical Church had plummeted to its lowest, it still had a vast following, among whom was Eve's long-deceased mother.
During her lifetime, her mother would recount these stories to Eve and even gave her a Christian name. Thus, Eve was well-acquainted with these theologically close matters, but this understanding also fostered fear.
"This... how could it be possible..."
The entire perception of the world was overturned in that moment. Eve's heart, once hard-earned to peace, beat violently again, echoing like a bell in the deep tunnel.
Eve had always scoffed at so-called mythical beliefs, thinking they were merely fabrications by those in power to solidify their rule and seize benefits. But the mythical things were now tangibly present right before her eyes. Just as Lorenzo said, they were no illusions, but solid reality.
"Nothing is impossible. We must escape as soon as possible. Although we don't know why demons appear here, there are at least hundreds within this Underground Palace—people incapacitated by the hallucinogen. Those people are its food; it will only grow larger and more terrifying."
Lorenzo's voice came from the darkness ahead.
"...Why do you know about these, Lorenzo!"
Eve stopped her steps, the murmuring by her ears intensified, as if a bizarre monk was whispering beside her. The combination of the effects of the hallucinogen and the demon's mental impact left the girl in a terrible state, making her unable to trust anyone.
Her gun muzzle pointed towards a shadow in the darkness—it was her own pistol, loaded with bullets.
"Don't succumb, Eve; you've already been influenced by it."
Lorenzo's voice remained calm, completely disregarding the fact that Eve had a gun pointed at him.
Cold sweat trickled down the girl's face as her breathing grew heavy, tumultuous thoughts churned in her mind. Under the catalyst of negative emotions, Lorenzo's suspicious points before her eyes loomed larger.
Why did this detective know so much? Why did he choose her to accompany him? Was it truly for that rescue plan? Of course, these suspicions were not fatal; the most lethal point was Lorenzo himself.
A detective well-versed in combat skills and hidden knowledge, Lorenzo's very existence was the greatest enigma.
"Don't be afraid, Eve. I understand you. The first time I faced a demon, I was like you... I nearly killed my friend. That's how they are; they will directly destroy a person's sanity. Those who confront them must guard against demons and their crazed allies."
In the dark, Lorenzo consoled, but his hand already held tight to the Staff Sword. This was a dark tunnel with very low visibility, and Lorenzo was close to Eve. As long as his sword speed was fast enough, Lorenzo was confident he could kill this girl before she fired.
There was no so-called internal struggle; long ago when Lorenzo first swung his sword at a demon, he understood one thing: fighting against such weirdness came with a price, be it one's goodwill, the shackles of one's principles, or warm blood turning cold.
"Eve, calm down; don't disappoint your ancestors."
The voice turned stern, and at this moment, Lorenzo was like a strict teacher admonishing his wayward pupil. But even as he spoke, the Staff Sword was raised overhead. With Lorenzo's arm strength, he could split Eve in two in an instant.
Chaotic emotions entangled Eve; her trembling hand gripped the gun. The two stood off in darkness for nearly a minute, and in that long silence, Eve finally lowered her gun.
"I... what's happening to me..."
Eve knelt weakly, her eyes bloodshot. Her once lovely face had turned pale, her previous youth and vigor vanished; she looked like a sickly woman.
"Demons are peculiar things, not even considered life forms. Everything they touch acquires that bizarre nature, like a vessel they've touched—an ordinary person touching it would experience nightmares.
Similarly, any behavior that observes its existence—watching, hearing, or smelling it—would influence a regular person, producing 'madness' with varying intensity based on the degree of contact."
Lorenzo lowered the deadly Staff Sword, supporting Eve while putting away her gun to prevent her from doing anything foolish again.
"Even reading texts about them is forbidden; that's why it is said do not behold, do not touch, do not comprehend."
Eve turned her head with difficulty. Amid the eerie atmosphere, Lorenzo remained calm, seemingly untouched.
"Then why aren't you... afraid?"
Supporting Eve forward, Lorenzo answered her as they walked.
"There are many factors, like living with tigers daily. The first time you see it, you'd be scared to death. But if you see it daily, you'd just think of it as a fierce big cat."
Light poured down from ahead, seemingly the exit.
"So in your eyes, that demon thing is just a big cat?"
Seeing light in the endless darkness, the girl's tension finally eased, and hearing Lorenzo's description, she even felt like laughing.
"When fear becomes routine, it merely turns into an ordinary emotion. I've said, I was once a Priest from Florence in the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom; I understand demons are unknown entities. Similarly, we need an equally unknown entity to combat them."
Lorenzo lifted the Winchester, hooking a finger on the guard ring and swung it vigorously. The shotgun elegantly spun, chambering as it rotated. The cigarette had burnt out; with lingering ember and ash, Lorenzo stomped it out.
"That unknown, which protects us, was called God and faith hundreds of years ago; now its name is machinery and energy."
Lorenzo removed his mask—it felt uncomfortable to wear—and in the glow of the exit, the girl finally saw Lorenzo's face clearly.
She always thought Lorenzo was also afraid, but the detective's strong mental state forced his calm. Yet the reality was his face was full of rage—hardly the expression of someone who should be afraid.
The hand holding the gun trembled uncontrollably; this was not fear, it was merely because Lorenzo was too excited.
He knew well why he felt this way, just as a hunter who shelved the hunting rifle. All the trees had turned to charcoal; the hunting forest vanished in the river of time, and so-called hunters were left behind by a new era.
But suddenly, one day while living in a haze, you discover the dark forest remains, teeming with those aberrations that should have been burnt away.
So you pick up the dust-covered gun, embracing rebirth with joy.