Mordo's apology was sincere. Despite Leo's sarcasm, there wasn't a trace of resentment in the man's expression.
He was rigid, yes—but fair.
Once Mordo decided what was right or wrong, he stuck to it, unmoved by pride or personal feelings.
Seeing that, Leo sheathed his Nichirin blade and asked calmly, "So, what is it you want from me?"
"This isn't the place. Let's talk somewhere more appropriate," the Ancient One said, snapping her fingers.
A sparkling golden portal bloomed in the air, opening to a cozy, well-furnished drawing room straight out of an 18th-century English manor.
"…Alright," Leo replied after a short pause, nodding.
The Ancient One stepped through the portal first. Mordo followed silently. Leo brought up the rear, passing into the new space.
With a smooth wave of her hand, the Ancient One conjured a tea table and chairs. A second gesture produced a steaming teapot and cups already steeped with tea.
"Please, have a seat."
She gestured graciously before settling down herself. Mordo stood silently behind her, like a dutiful guard.
Leo sat without hesitation, meeting her gaze directly.
"We just have a few questions," she said as she poured him a cup of tea. "A year ago, you appeared in Manhattan out of thin air. Then, two months ago, fifteen flesh-eating demons surfaced in the city…"
She filled his cup, set the teapot down, and locked eyes with him.
"Do you know anything about that?"
"I do," Leo answered without blinking.
Both the Ancient One and Mordo looked surprised.
Lifting his teacup, Leo blew gently on the steam, took a small sip, and then added, "They're demons. Not of this world. Extraterrestrial or interdimensional creatures."
His forthrightness wasn't out of generosity—it was strategy.
He hadn't transmigrated into someone else's body or mind; he was here in the flesh. While he might've fooled S.H.I.E.L.D. agents still unsure about the multiverse, there was no way he could deceive the Sorcerer Supreme—a woman who could astral project across timelines, peer into parallel dimensions, and had lived for over five centuries.
And unlike some secluded immortal cultivators, the Ancient One had walked through history. She'd seen the rise and fall of empires, the fragility of mortal hearts, and the boundless expanse of the multiverse. She was the last person Leo could bluff.
Pretending to be clever would only backfire.
So, better to be bold. Tell the truth—but not the whole truth.
The Ancient One wasn't omniscient. As long as Leo kept his cards close, she couldn't connect all the dots.
"Interdimensional demons, huh…"
The Ancient One lifted her teacup to her lips but didn't drink. She stared off, seemingly lost in thought… or perhaps astrally scanning other timelines, searching for confirmation or context.
Still, neither she nor Mordo looked surprised at his answer.
Clearly, they'd already suspected as much.
"Can you tell us more about them?" she asked, finally returning her gaze to him.
"Of course," Leo smiled with the same expression he once used to greet Agent Coulson. "But I'm a businessman. Information comes at a price."
"You realize who you're talking to?" Mordo said, tone low, hinting at menace.
The Ancient One raised a hand, silencing him.
"Equal exchange is fair," she said to Leo. "What kind of compensation are you asking for?"
"Money," Leo shrugged. "Or something of equal value."
Truth be told, he would've loved to get his hands on something like the Book of Vishanti, but he wasn't stupid enough to think she'd offer it. No—this was just part of his performance. He wanted the world to see him not as a hero draped in virtue, but a pragmatic, morally gray figure who walked the edge between light and dark.
"A transaction," he'd say. "Nothing personal."
"Money, huh…" the Ancient One mused. Then, without hesitation, she removed the plum blossom ring from her index finger.
"This isn't from a famous craftsman. Just something I made myself while learning the mystic arts. It calms the mind and soothes anger. A simple trinket—but it's served me well. Will this suffice?"
Leo took the ring and examined it carefully, while secretly having his system scan it for any anomalies. Once it came back clean, he smiled in satisfaction.
"Five centuries old… Even if it's just a meditation ring, that kind of history could fetch a fortune on the right market."
The Ancient One gave a small nod. "Then tell us. About the demons."
Leo sat upright, slipping the ring into his coat.
"They were once human."
His voice grew steady, almost like a narrator beginning a tragic tale.
"A thousand years ago, in their world, a child was born with a weak heart. He nearly died at birth—was almost cremated as a stillborn. But he survived. Barely."
The room was silent.
"The boy's body was so frail, he couldn't even sit up. He was confined to bed, dying slowly. Then, one day, a kind doctor took pity on him. Created a special medicine that not only saved the boy's life, but gave him superhuman strength and immortality."
Leo set down his cup.
"But the price was steep. He could no longer endure sunlight. And he had to eat human flesh to survive. That boy grew up to become the first demon—Kibutsuji Muzan."
The Ancient One listened in silence.
Mordo, on the other hand, frowned. "You call the doctor kind? Why would a good man create something so monstrous? And their world's medicine—was it really so advanced a thousand years ago?"
"The doctor didn't mean to create a monster," Leo replied, calmly sipping his tea. "The medicine wasn't complete. In fact, Muzan's condition worsened during the initial treatment. Thinking he'd been tricked, he murdered the doctor before the cure could be finished."
He paused, letting the weight of that irony settle.
"The doctor was a genius. A one-of-a-kind genius. Like Tony Stark in this world. That unfinished medicine gave Muzan power—but also cursed him with vulnerability. No sunlight. Constant hunger for human flesh. A tragedy born of fear."
"A cycle of cause and effect," the Ancient One whispered. "Had Muzan not acted out of paranoia… had he trusted the man trying to save him… he might've become the perfect being. Not a king of shadows."
Leo didn't argue, but inwardly, he scoffed.
Cause and effect?
What about the doctor? He tried to help—and got murdered for it.
Who paid for that karma?
Was it his fault, for caring too much?