The voices faded as he moved into Devil Town, and it felt like a minefield. He avoided the mains streets, there were too many eyes there, too many demons who might remember a one-eyed man with silver hair and a pair of katanas. He stuck to the alleys, the gaps between buildings, the routes that didn't show up on any map.

The gas lamps were lighting up as evening settled, their warm glow spilling across the main roads where demons went about their routines like this was just another day. Somewhere, a baker was closing up shop. Somewhere else, laughter drifted from a tavern door.

He cut west, staying to the edges, keeping his head down and his hand close to his katana. The western side of town was quieter, older buildings, fewer people, the kind of neighborhood that was slowly being forgotten.

The manor would be past the burned church. That hadn't changed. He doubted much had.

Gin slowed as he approached, scanning the structure. He circled it wide, staying in the tree line, boots silent on the damp earth. The manor would be past this. The demons had said western edge, and there weren't many buildings left out here that fit the description.

The trees pressed closer together, branches overhead forming a canopy that blocked out most of the moonlight. Gin's hand drifted to the hilt of his right katana.

And then he smelled it. Human blood, and it was fresh, mixed with fear-sweat and adrenaline. And that sharp chemical of a body in fight or flight.

Gin moved toward the smell. It led him to the base of an old oak, twisted and gnarled, roots breaking through the soil.

Gin crouched. There was a scrap of fabric. Torn, not cut. Dark stains crusted along one edge. He picked it up carefully, turned it over in his gloved hand.

Human blood, not more than two days old.

He brought it close, inhaled. A young male. The same scent from the blood trail he'd been following.

The blond one.

He set the fabric down, kept searching. His eye tracked the ground at disturbed leaves, broken twigs, the faint depression in the soil where something heavy had fallen or been dragged.

And he saw it, half-buried beneath a root, glinting faint in the dim light, a silver chain, delicate.

Gin reached for it, pulled it free of the dirt and dead leaves. A small engraved pendant hung from it.

Yves.

The friend. The one Juno had been looking for.

Not dead, then. Or at least, not dead here. The chain was broken. Snapped, not cut. Torn off in a struggle. So he was taken, not killed. Not yet, at least.

He closed his fist around the pendant and pocketed it.

The blood trail continued deeper into the woods, but it was older now.

The old manor rose out of the forest, three stories of red brick gone black. Windows boarded over or shattered into jagged teeth. Ivy crawling up the walls. The roof sagged in places, looked one strong wind away from caving in completely.

Gin approached from the north, staying low, moving through the underbrush. His eye swept the structure, counting exits, marking sight lines, noting which windows still had glass and which were just empty sockets staring at nothing.

He circled the perimeter. No guards outside. No patrols. Either Sereph was confident no one would find this place, or he didn't care if they did.

Gin's hand tightened on his katana's hilt. Arrogance. That was Sereph's weakness. Always had been.

He was about to move toward the main entrance when he heard distant voices.

Then a sound that might've been a scream, cut short. The sound had come from deeper in the woods. Past the manor. East, maybe northeast.

He hesitated for exactly three seconds, weighing his options.

The manor was the objective. That's where the demons said Sereph would be. That's where the trail led.

But the scream… human.

Gin turned and ran toward the sound. The trees opened up ahead into a clearing bathed in pale moonlight.

And there they were.

Juno, back pressed against a tree, breathing hard. The black cat standing in front of her, fur bristled, tail lashing, hissing like a feral thing.

And surrounding them in a loose semicircle, eight demons. Maybe nine. One hanging back near the treeline, bigger than the rest.

At the center of it all, swaying but upright, was Sereph.

Blood streaked down his face from a cut above his brow. His clothes torn. Movements unsteady.

Gin stayed in the shadows at the clearing's edge. Watched and waited. He saw Sereph’s golden eyes were fixed on Juno with an expression that made Gin's jaw tighten.

His hand went to his katana, but he didn't draw yet. Sereph was saying something to her and Juno pressed back harder against the tree.

Then Sereph's hand shot out, grabbing Juno's wrist. Pulled her head to the side, exposing her neck.

Gin moved his hand to draw the blade, but Sereph froze.

His grip on Juno's wrist loosened. His breathing went ragged. He stumbled back a step, hand going to his temple like something had hit him.

“What the hell are you–”

Gin didn't wait to hear the rest. This was his chance.

His first knife took the demon on Sereph's left in the skull. It dropped without a sound. The second knife buried itself in another demon's throat before the first body hit the ground.

The pack scattered, snarling, trying to locate the threat.

Gin stepped into the clearing. His silver hair catching moonlight, a single green eye, and blood dripping from one katana already drawn.

The remaining demons hesitated, suddenly unsure whether this was a fight worth having.

Sereph's head snapped toward him, golden eyes going wide for just a heartbeat before they sharpened. His lips curled into something between a snarl and a grin, though he still looked unsteady.

“Well, well,” he said. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Gin's gaze flicked to Juno, still pressed against the tree, then back to Sereph. His grip tightened on his katana.

“Step away from her,” he said.

Sereph laughed. “Or what?” He took a step toward Juno again, reaching for her. “You'll kill me? Go ahead. Try.”

One moment he was across the clearing. The next, his blade was pressed against Sereph's throat, edge drawing a thin line of blood.

“Wrong answer,” Gin said quietly.

The demons around them didn't know whether to run or attack. They just stood there, waiting.

Sereph tried to grin but it came out more like a grimace. Blood ran down his neck.

“There you are.” Gin didn't move the blade. Didn't say anything. “The real you.”

Sereph's hands came up, he tried to make it look casual but they were shaking. “You've been wanting to do this.”

Gin's eye narrowed.

“Don't–” Sereph's breath hitched. “Don't act like you haven't.”

His body flickered. Shadow magic trying to dissolve his body, to escape. It sputtered like a dying engine. He solidified again with a choked sound and Gin's blade cut deeper.

“Fuck–” Sereph gasped. His knees almost buckled.

“Still trying,” Gin said flatly.

“Yeah, well–” Sereph's voice came out thin. He twisted hard to the side, using what little strength he had left. The blade sliced across his throat instead of through it.

He stumbled back three steps before his leg gave out. Caught himself against a tree. Hand pressed to his neck, breathing hard.

Gin lowered the katana and stood there, watching him.

Sereph tried to straighten up. Failed the first time. Managed it on the second try, swaying badly. Blood soaked through his fingers, dripping onto his collar. He looked at Gin. Tried to say something clever, but seemed to fail at finding the words.

“You could've killed me,” he managed finally.

Gin said nothing, and Sereph laughed. “But you didn't.”

He took a step back but almost fell again. One of his demons materialized to catch him and he shoved it away. “Guess that'd make you too much like me.”

Gin's expression didn't change.

“Leave,” Gin said.

Sereph stared at him for a second. Then he turned slowly, had to grab onto his demon this time to stay upright.

“Yeah.” The word came out bitter. “That's what I thought.”

He didn't look back. Just limped toward the treeline, golden hair catching moonlight one last time before darkness swallowed him whole.

Gin stood there, katana still drawn, watching until the last footsteps faded into nothing.

Then he let out a slow breath and rolled his shoulders once.

His hands were shaking slightly, just a tremor, barely visible. He looked down at them, then deliberately loosened his grip on the katana, forced his fingers to relax. Then he sheathed it.

Behind him, Juno was still against the tree. Ain sat beside her, tail wrapped around his paws.

Gin turned to face them. “You hurt?”

Juno swallowed and shook her head. “No. I'm– I'm okay.”

Ain's tail flicked. “Oh, how touching. Our hero arrives just in time to…”

Gin's eye cut to him.

Ain's ears flattened slightly, but his grin widened. “... never mind.”

Gin looked back at Juno, scanning for injuries. She looked shaken but fine, no visible blood.

“Your friend,” he said, reaching into his coat. “The one you were looking for.”

He pulled out the silver chain, let it dangle from his fingers. The pendant caught the moonlight.

Yves.

She reached for the chain, fingers shaking as she took it from him.

“You found this?” She stared at it. “Where?”

“Near the old manor. Back there.” Gin's gaze shifted to the treeline. “There was blood. Fresh. Chain was broken, someone ripped it off him, didn't cut it.”

Hope flashed across her face.

“So he could be–” She stopped and swallowed. “He's alive?”

Gin's jaw worked. “Don't know. Could be.”

He stood there in silence for a second, like he was picking his next words.

“I'll help you find him.”

Juno was looking down at the necklace in her hand. But as he said that, her gaze immediately locked on him. Gin was watching her.  And she just stared. Like she couldn't quite believe what he'd said. He looked away first. Turned his attention back to the treeline.

“Really?” Her voice came out quieter than she meant.

“After that, you’ll go home.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Of course.”

“And then we’re done.”

Juno lifted her eyebrows. “What?”

“You go back to your world, and I won't see you again.” He stepped past her. “That's the deal.”

“What– why?”

He didn't turn around. And for a second, he just stood there. His shoulders drawn tight. Then his voice came out quieter than before.

“You don't belong in this mess.”

Juno opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Gin kept walking away from her, slowly, so she could catch on easily.

She stood there, the pendant clutched tight in her fist, watching his back.

The distance between them growing with each step he took.

“Aw, don’t look so crushed,” Ain's voice came from beside her. “He’s always like that. Likes to pretend he doesn’t care. Real convincing, huh?”

Juno didn’t answer, her eyes still fixed on Gin’s back.

Ain leaned in closer. “But here’s a little secret,” he whispered. “He doesn’t get to decide what happens to you.”

She frowned, glancing down at him now.

Ain straightened with a smirk that showed his fangs. “I do.”

Juno stared at him, caught between unease and confusion.

Ain gave her a wink. “Kidding. Sort of.” He twirled his tail dramatically. “Don’t worry, little human. You're not disposable just yet.”

And with that, he strolled ahead as if he hadn’t just completely scrambled her thoughts.

She followed, her heartbeat unsettled, not just from Ain’s words, but from the feeling that none of them were being entirely honest.