The streets of Devil Town buzzed with a kind of life Juno wasn't sure she'd ever get used to. She kept her head down and stayed close to Gin. Ain led the way, weaving through the crowd like he'd done it a thousand times, which he probably had.

Demonic merchants shouted from their stalls, selling trinkets, strange relics and grotesque food that Juno tried not to look at too closely. Every now and then, she felt the weight of a stare, so she did her best to keep her head down.

“Didn't think I'd see the day I'd be playing tour guide for a human and a grumpy sea hermit,” Ain said over his shoulder, grinning. “Try not to look too out of place, yeah? Wrong kind of attention here gets messy.”

A few demons slowed as she passed, nostrils flaring, heads turning to track her movement. Gin's hand shifted closer to his katana.

“Your contact,” he said. “He better be worth the trip.”

“Lyros always is,” Ain replied. “Guy deals in information. Completely neutral.” He glanced back with a smirk. “And lucky for us, he owes me one.”

Juno frowned. “Why?”

“Saved his scaly hide from a very angry succubus. It's a long story.”

Gin sighed. “I don't want to know.”

“You really don't,” Ain agreed cheerfully.

Juno let out a short breath, almost a laugh, but it died quickly when she noticed Gin watching her. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was sharper now, like he was working something out.

“Your friend,” His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it. “What exactly went wrong? What happened before you ended up in Limbo?”

Juno stopped breathing for a second. Before she could answer, Ain turned slightly, his eyes catching hers. A subtle shake of the head, it was a quiet warning.

Don’t tell him.

She wet her lips, buying herself a second to think. “We were walking back from a party,” she said quietly, like the memory hurt. “Near the old clock tower. I wasn't feeling well, I never do… and Yves was trying to get me home.”

Gin's eye narrowed slightly. “And?”

“And then they came.” She looked down at her hands. “These... things. Shadow things. I don't know what they were. They came out of nowhere when the bells started ringing.”

“What did they want?”

Juno hesitated, letting the silence stretch. “Me, I think,” she said finally. “They grabbed Yves first. He pushed me out of the way and they just–” Her voice cracked. She didn't have to fake that part. “They took him. I tried to run but I couldn't breathe. My lungs gave out and I collapsed in an alley.”

She met Gin's gaze directly now. “That's when I woke up here. In the water. I don't know what they wanted. I don't know why they took him instead of me.”

She knew the best lies were wrapped in truth.

Gin didn't react right away. His expression didn't change, but his focus sharpened, like he was re-examining everything she'd just said.

“Demons don't usually hunt humans without reason,” he said slowly. “What exactly were they–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ain cut in, stepping between them. “Look at you two, getting all intense in the middle of a demon market. Really setting the mood for subtle research here.” He gestured broadly at the bustling streets around them. “Maybe save the interrogation for somewhere a little more... private?”

Gin slightly frowned, clearly frustrated by the interruption, but his gaze swept the crowded marketplace. Several demons had glanced their way, drawn by the tension in their voices.

“Fine,” Gin said, but his tone suggested this conversation was far from over.

Juno's hand twitched toward the watch strung around her neck, the artefact that had brought her here and bound her fate to Ain's. She quickly tucked it under her blouse, grateful for Ain's intervention, but knowing it was only temporary.

“Great! Love it when we all agree,” Ain said brightly, already moving forward. “Now, we have a meeting to get to. And trust me, you don't want to keep these particular contacts waiting.”

Gin didn’t say anything else, but as they moved forward, Juno felt his gaze flick towards her one last time.

Whatever came next, Juno knew one thing for sure: she was running out of time to keep her secrets.

They turned into a narrower alleyway and the chaotic market noise faded behind them. The deeper they went, the more their surroundings changed. 

Ain stopped at a crooked, shadowed building covered in black vines. The shuttered windows were warped with age, and Juno could have sworn she felt eyes behind them.

“This is it,” Ain said, padding up to the door. “I’ll ring the bell.”

Rather than reaching for anything with his paw, he gripped a frayed rope in his teeth and gave it several sharp yanks. This produced a deep, metallic groan that echoed through the stone beneath their feet.

Then after a brief pause, the door creaked open an inch, and two glowing green eyes peered out from the darkness beyond. They lingered on Ain, flicked to Gin, then to Juno.

“Ain,” came a low, gravel-lined voice. “What do you want, cat?”

Ain grinned, tail flicking. “Now, don’t tell me that’s how you treat your friends.”

The eyes didn’t blink.

“We need information,” Ain continued. “About Gluttony.”

A rustle of movement, then the door opened a fraction wider. 

“And what do you offer in return?” Lyros asked slowly. His gaze drifted toward Juno, and this time it didn’t move. He inhaled slightly, and something in his demeanor shifted. “Interesting,” he murmured. “She doesn’t smell normal.”

Juno stiffened, her foot sliding half a step back instinctively. The way he said it wasn’t lecherous, but it wasn’t harmless either. It was full of intrigue, like that of a collector spotting something rare.

“That human girl would make an excellent trade,” Lyros added, and though his tone was smooth, the threat underneath was real.

Gin stepped forward, his body subtly blocking Juno from view. “Cut the crap,” he said, voice like ice. “She’s not for sale.”

Ain stretched lazily, flexing his claws against the wooden doorstep. “Come on, Lyros. We both know you still owe me. This is me cashing in.”

Lyros stared at them in silence, his eyes flicking between each of them before returning to Juno. She held his gaze, chin lifted, just refusing to flinch.

After a long pause, he let out a slow breath, and stepped back.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Come in, let’s talk.”

As she walked in, she could see his whole body. He was lean, with long, dark green hair that fell in loose curls to the ground.

Her gaze flicked to Gin. His posture, which was usually tense with repressed aggression, had relaxed slightly. He was not entirely relaxed, but the edge had dulled. The threat had passed, at least for now. This alone showed her just how dangerous Lyros was. If Gin had been prepared for a fight, she should have been terrified.

She thought of Sereph. Of Gluttony. Of the necklace in her pocket. In this world, demons didn’t just intimidate; they delighted in it. While Ain laughed it all off and Gin moved through it like a native, she was still the outsider. She was the first one to become a target, or maybe she already was one.

Still, it was Gin she kept glancing at. Because if he had been worried… What chance did she stand?

She straightened her spine, forcing herself to stay alert and read the room the way he would. Meanwhile, Ain was enjoying it as if they were at a dinner party.

“We need to know everything,” Gin said, his voice cutting the silence. “Her routines. Her weaknesses. Anything we can use.”

Lyros didn't answer straight away. He moved slowly and gestured towards the worn chairs around the table. Juno and Ain took their seats. Gin remained standing.

“Well,” Lyros began, his tone sharp-edged. “You're asking for quite a lot. But fine. I'll give you something.” He leaned back against the table, his smile thin. “She is what she represents: endless appetite and endless need. She's always consuming: Food, power, loyalty. Everything's a resource to her.”

“But?” Gin pressed.

Lyros's smile flickered and became harder to read. “But when she can't get what she needs, she gets... unstable.” He drummed his fingers against the table. “Cut off her supply lines and you'll have a window of opportunity; she'll be vulnerable. But she'll also be furious and desperate.”

“How long of a window?” Gin asked.

“That depends on how much you're willing to risk,” Lyros said with a shrug. “Could be your best shot at her. Could also be the last mistake you ever make.” He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Of course, there's another approach. When she's well-fed and content, she gets... distracted. Complacent. Less likely to notice uninvited guests.” His smile turned sharp. “Though if she does catch you, she'll be at full strength.”

His gaze swept over them. “So, starve her and face her rage while she's weak, or let her feast and hope her satisfaction makes her careless. Either way, you're gambling with your lives.”

The silence that followed felt heavy with the weight of an impossible decision.

“Well, this is cheerful,” Ain said, breaking the tension. “Nothing like a good old-fashioned suicide mission to really bring a team together.”

Lyros's mouth twitched with what might have been amusement. “And lately… she's expanded her tastes.”

Juno's head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“Until recently, she never touched humans. But something's changed, she's taken an interest. Dangerous, unpredictable interest.”

Juno's throat tightened. “She has my friend. Yves. We have to get him back.”

The silence that followed was heavier than before.

Ain turned to her, his face unreadable, but something dark lurked behind his violet eyes.

Lyros's gaze settled on Juno. “If she's got your friend, you'd best prepare for the worst.” His tone was casual, almost indifferent. “Odds are, he's already gone.”

A cold dread settled in her stomach. “We have to try,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady despite the tremor in her hands.

Lyros raised a brow, but said nothing. Gin's jaw flexed, eye narrowing. And then there was Ain.

It was unsettling. His sarcasm, his smirks and his constant commentary were all gone. He just sat there, his tail still and his violet eyes unreadable. For Ain to be this quiet, the gravity of their situation was clear.

Lyros watched them, his head tilted and a sneer twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You're not seriously thinking of saving that friend of yours, are you?”

Juno's eyes narrowed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Lyros shrugged. “It's pointless. If Gluttony's had him for more than a few hours, he's probably already dead.” He looked straight at her. “And there's no afterlife for him, y'know?”

Juno's breath caught and a knot formed in her chest, but Lyros was far from finished. “And you, little human... What exactly do you think you're going to do there? Especially with that scent of yours.”

She blinked, taken aback. “What?”

He laughed softly, almost purring. “Sweet, fresh, mortal. That kind of perfume doesn't go unnoticed down here.” His smirk deepened. “Planning to offer yourself up too? Or just hoping she's feeling generous?”

Shame and fury warred within her. He wasn't wrong, but the way he said it and the pleasure he took in it made her want to throw something through the wall.

Before she could respond, a steady hand closed over her shoulder.

Gin didn't say a word, but the strength of his hand spoke volumes. It felt like a shield between her and the venom still dripping from Lyros's smile.

“We're done here,” Gin said, voice sharp and cold. “Thanks for the information.”

Ain's ears pricked up and he stepped down from his chair. Juno looked back at Gin, who simply gestured for her to stand up and follow him. And so she did.

She tried to ignore the laugh forming in Lyros’ throat, he was enjoying the moment too much.

“Remember me when you’re being devoured, little human!” Lyros called, his laughter echoing off the walls.

Gin slammed the door shut behind them, silencing it.