The bar was suddenly plunged into an eerie silence.
Ange leaned against the counter, maintaining what she thought was a cool pose, waiting for the familiar small talk of an old acquaintance.
She had even already prepared her opening lines in her mind, planning to start the conversation with a nonchalant “Same as always,” to rekindle their old rapport.
However, the octopus bartender, Carlos, stopped his four busy tentacles.
His huge, glass bead-like compound eyes turned in confusion, carefully sizing up the silver-haired, violet-eyed, voluptuous stranger before him.
An awkward scent hung in the air, growing thicker by the second.
A few seconds later, Carlos scratched his smooth bald head with one tentacle and spoke in a tone tinged with apology.
“This… distinguished Demon Hunter lady? Do we… know each other?”
“……”
Ange’s expression froze instantly.
Her violet eyes, once shimmering with light, now looked like frozen amethysts.
She had forgotten—ever since she was hit with that damned Curse and transformed into her current appearance, she hadn’t set foot in May of the Crying Demon.
How could Carlos possibly recognize her?
“Pfft—”
A suppressed but ultimately leaked giggle sounded from behind Ange.
It was Ingrid. Seeing her teacher, so full of confidence but utterly defeated, she simply couldn’t hold it in.
But the moment she laughed, regret hit her. She instantly covered her mouth with both hands, but it was too late.
Ange’s head slowly turned at a slight angle, her cold gaze as sharp as flying daggers, nailing Ingrid on the spot.
The meaning in her eyes was crystal clear: I’ll deal with you later.
I’m doomed! I made teacher mad again!
Ingrid wailed inwardly. How could she be so stupid?
Clearly, teacher must be feeling very awkward now, and yet she still laughed out loud! Now her impression score would definitely go into the negatives!
She bowed her head deeply, wishing she could crawl into a crack in the ground, cursing herself a hundred times over in her heart.
After sentencing her troublesome student with her gaze, Ange took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the soul-crushing embarrassment.
She withdrew her hand from the counter, leaned forward slightly, and lowered her voice to speak to Carlos.
“Carlos, it’s me.”
Her voice recovered some of the deep, husky tone that belonged to the old Ange. Although now blended with feminine softness, the unique timbre remained unchanged.
Carlos blinked his huge compound eyes, as if frantically searching his memory for this voice.
A few seconds later, several of his tentacles suddenly stiffened, even his bartending movements halted, and his eyes filled with disbelief.
“You… your voice… Could it be…” His voice dropped as well, tinged with doubt.
“You’re really… that Ange? The top Demon Hunter? But weren’t you already… And how did you… become…”
His tentacles gestured up and down, expressing his utter confusion over Ange’s current appearance.
“I’m not dead, just had a… little accident.”
Ange’s lips twisted in a helpless smile as she twirled a strand of her silver hair draped over her shoulder.
“It’s complicated. Anyway, I’m now Angelina. Keep it a secret for me, Carlos, I don’t want trouble.”
Once he confirmed her identity, the shock in Carlos’s eyes gradually shifted into a more complicated emotion.
He wobbled a tentacle, as if letting out a long breath, mixed with all sorts of feelings.
“I knew it… you’re as stubborn as the kind of shit you can’t flush from a toilet. How could you disappear without a trace so easily? So you really didn’t die.”
The awkward atmosphere finally melted away, replaced by a… subtle sense of old friends reunited.
Ange relaxed as well, taking a seat on the barstool in front of the counter, her high-heeled black boots resting on the footrest.
Ingrid, seeing this, cautiously sat beside her, clinging to her like a well-behaved accessory.
“How have things been here these past few years?” Ange took the glass of Soda Water Carlos pushed over, asking offhandedly.
Carlos wiped a glass with a tentacle and sighed, his tone laced with complaint.
“What else? It’s getting harder and harder. Over at the Academy, the pressure’s getting tighter by the day. Any trace of magical energy, doesn’t matter if anyone got hurt or not, they’ll detain you for questioning first. Now nobody dares step out their door, afraid they’ll get ‘purified’ someday. Business is getting worse and worse.”
Ange took a sip of Soda Water. The bubbles burst in her mouth, bringing a refreshing tingle.
She shook her head, her tone calm and businesslike.
“There’s no other way. In the past few months, too many people have crossed the line and made trouble. Just the missing persons cases involving demons are over a dozen. The Academy’s under a lot of pressure. Orders from the top are strict—better to arrest by mistake than let any slip through.”
“We know. But it’s not right to let all demons take the blame for a few rotten ones, is it?” Carlos wobbled his tentacles helplessly.
“These days, we’re living on edge.”
They chatted a bit more about recent events, most of it Carlos grumbling, with Ange occasionally replying.
The mood was actually rather harmonious.
Ingrid quietly listened on the side. This was her first time seeing so directly the survival situation of demons in human society.
It was all very novel to her, and she admired how her teacher could communicate so “normally” with demons.
After catching up, Carlos changed the topic. Four tentacles deftly operated an old-fashioned terminal at the side, pulling up an interface and sliding it over to Ange.
“All right, enough chit-chat. You’re not the type to drop by a small place like mine just for a drink. You’re here for this, aren’t you?”
A shrewd glint flashed in Carlos’s compound eyes.
“There’s a commission making the rounds in the Underground World lately. The pay’s good, but it’s tricky. I thought it over, and only someone of your level would dare take it. Plus… I think you’d be interested.”
Ange raised an eyebrow, looking at the terminal screen.
On it was a commission notice, accompanied by a blurry but clearly seductive photo.
Target: A high-rank Succubus (name unknown, codename “Shalin”).
Crime: Suspected of using compulsory charm abilities, resulting in over twenty male victims suffering severe mental damage, with their vitality drained.
All are currently in a coma, condition critical.
Active area: Upscale nightclub and bar district in the city center.
Commission requirements: Capture alive or confirm complete purification.
Reward: Negotiable (extremely generous).
The moment she saw the word Succubus, especially the part about “over twenty male victims suffering severe mental damage, with their vitality drained,” Ange’s hand tightened around her glass, her knuckles turning pale from the force.
Ingrid, who had been secretly watching her teacher, clearly saw a crack appear on Ange’s face—usually as calm and tranquil as a frozen lake.
A nearly tangible fury radiated from her.
Those violet eyes were no longer merely cold, but flashed with the dangerous light of a predator, the pupils faintly beginning to elongate vertically.
The air around them seemed to drop a few degrees.