Chapter 30: Investigating the Residential Area
Jim Nicken crushed his cigarette into the ashtray with unnecessary force, muttering complaints under his breath.
Then, without missing a beat, he pulled another from the pack.
Across from him, his wife, Delle Nicken, walked over with a gentle smile and took the pack from his hand.
"Darling, how about letting that be your last one for today?"
Jim opened his mouth to protest, but in the end, just nodded.
Click.
The lighter sparked, and the cigarette flared to life.
---
As one of the few high-ranking officials in Philadelphia with actual authority, the Nickens couple were local celebrities.
Both were relatively young and shared an eight-year-old daughter.
Jim was wildly ambitious and had already made impressive strides within city government.
Delle, on the other hand, was the head of an international charitable organization, earning widespread respect across society.
Together, they made a power couple that was virtually unstoppable in American political circles.
Recently, the President had issued a new executive order supporting charitable reform.
As luck would have it, Delle's organization was directly involved. Naturally, Jim was appointed as the liaison.
That appointment earned him a golden opportunity—to present in Washington D.C.
For the past few weeks, Jim had been traveling non-stop, promoting and coordinating the new policy across the country.
But just as things were gaining momentum… there was a problem at home.
Jim wasn't the superstitious type. Sure, someone in his position would occasionally hear whispers about "classified federal secrets"—paranormal oddities, black sites, and the like.
But in his mind, all that stuff was just military theatrics for bigger budgets.
Area 51? Please—it was practically global folklore at this point.
He even scoffed when Canada recently claimed to have found alien remains.
A bunch of maple syrup-drunk dreamers!
If it were up to Jim, he'd cut the fluff and spend the saved money on a few more missile silos.
Still, this incident at home wasn't something he could ignore.
At first, he suspected a political rival might be behind it—maybe that old bastard Charles.
But the private investigation he quietly commissioned came up empty.
Now, with his Washington trip fast approaching and the murder case still unresolved, he was running out of time—and patience.
He dreaded the idea of something happening while he was giving a public speech. The fallout could be catastrophic.
So, when Delle suggested hiring an exorcist, he reluctantly agreed.
As expected, though, they were a bunch of frauds—circus clowns in robes.
They made a mess of the place and still found nothing of value.
Thinking about it made Jim grit his teeth and curse again, looking every bit the street thug he wasn't supposed to be.
Sure, he'd keep up appearances in public, but this was his home.
And since the murder had happened in the garden, where the exorcists were currently working, he wasn't worried about being overheard.
Knock knock.
Just as he finished cursing, a bodyguard tapped on the door, informing him that Officer Gordon had arrived—with two new exorcists.
The door opened.
Three figures stood in the hallway.
The moment he entered the mansion, Gideon Black activated his [Ethereal Sight], and—sure enough—caught faint traces of malevolent energy lingering in the air.
But the residual aura was weak, and it wasn't clear if the disturbance was limited to just this area.
Erring on the side of caution, Gideon did not immediately step inside.
Across from him, Jim asked Gordon how long they had been standing outside.
"A while now," Gordon replied calmly.
Jim instantly realized they had probably overheard his earlier rant—a stark contrast to his usual polished persona.
But seeing there was no point in pretending anymore, Jim dropped the act and stared directly at the newcomers.
Sensing her husband's discomfort, Delle stepped forward to smooth things over.
"Derek, you really should've told me we'd have a young exorcist visiting today—I would've prepared some sweets."
The bodyguard—Derek—knew the drill. He often played support in these moments, and this was clearly Delle offering Jim a graceful way out.
He nodded and smiled knowingly.
Delle turned to Emma with a friendly greeting, then addressed Gideon with her usual poise.
"Gentlemen, please come in. I'll take you to the garden."
But Gideon shook his head politely.
"Apologies, ma'am. Before we examine the crime scene, I'd like to take a walk through the residential area."
Delle blinked, surprised by the request.
Delle blinked in surprise.
Murders had occurred in other houses? Why hadn't she heard anything about that?
She turned to Jim for clarification.
He, on the other hand, simply wore a look that said, "Just as I thought."
Jim scoffed under his breath, mentally filing the young priest in front of him under con artist.
He assumed the guy must've overheard his earlier complaints and was now trying to save face by making excuses.
"Of course you can," Jim said with a mocking smirk. "Let's just hope you can find your way back afterward."
His tone was dripping with disdain.
Officer Gordon opened his mouth to explain, but Jim quickly raised a hand to cut him off.
Delle offered an apologetic smile. Her husband was incredibly capable when it came to work, but his temper… not so much.
Gideon didn't take offense.
Except for longtime clients, scenes like this were par for the course in his line of work.
He also knew there was no point in arguing—it would only embolden people like Jim.
True strength, after all, needed no explanation. Facts would speak for themselves.
And when they did, he'd let them watch their own performance unravel.
But Emma didn't see it that way.
Even though Jim's sarcasm was clearly directed at Gideon, she considered herself part of the team—and took it personally.
Her expression was slowly turning icy.
Gideon noticed and immediately realized she was up to no good again.
He quickly reached over, gently grabbing her chin and redirecting her gaze.
If she actually killed a high-ranking official right now, he'd be buried in problems for weeks.
"Pardon us. We'll return shortly," Gideon said flatly.
With that, he and Emma excused themselves and stepped out.
"Hey, Gideon—sorry about that," Gordon said as he caught up.
Gideon just waved it off. "Don't worry about it."
He then circled the Nickens residence, setting up a Sleepward Barrier to prevent any accidents while they were away.
Only after securing the perimeter did Gideon head toward the neighboring house.
He motioned for Emma to walk ahead, staying close behind to give her no room for mischief.
With Gordon leading the way, the three moved without resistance.
After a thorough inspection, Gideon concluded that the rest of the residential area was safe.
"So that confirms it. This isn't some kind of spreading curse or infectious demon."
He walked in silence, deep in thought.
But then—he suddenly felt a shadow overhead.
Looking up instinctively, he didn't expect a pair of arms to wrap tightly around his neck and yank him backward.
At the last second before hitting the ground, Gideon managed to tilt his head up, narrowly avoiding cracking his skull.
Then came the darkness.
Something soft brushed against his face.
He took in a light, floral scent.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—really!"
A clear, girlish voice rang out just as Gideon regained his sight.
But at that same moment, he felt a sharp pressure on his stomach.
"Oof."
He nearly lost his breath.
Opening his eyes, he found a girl kneeling squarely on his abdomen, shaking him by the shoulders with genuine concern.
Gideon grunted and pointed weakly at his stomach.
"Oh! Right—sorry!" she said quickly, realizing her position.
She scrambled off him.
Gordon had already placed a hand on his weapon, eyes locked on the girl's every move.
Emma, meanwhile, looked like she was thoroughly enjoying the show.
Gideon finally got to his feet and took a good look at the girl.
She looked about his age—maybe a little younger.
Chestnut brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail, framing a pale, freckled face with striking ocean-blue eyes.
She wore a full black athletic tracksuit, slightly worn and stained in places, though her frame was slim and athletic.
Oddly, that didn't quite match the soft impact he had felt earlier...
Oh Lord above, Gideon quickly corrected himself. He meant his nose didn't feel injured.
Besides, there were two particularly eye-catching details about the girl:
First, her lower legs were wrapped in tightly bound athletic tape.
Second, she carried a massive, coffin-sized case on her back—nearly as tall as she was.