The doorbell rang—brief, almost hesitant.
A moment later, the front door eased open.
Lloyd held his breath, silently praying it wasn't someone troublesome.
Just for one day, he wanted to do absolutely nothing. Lie in bed. Waste a perfectly good morning in perfect comfort. Wasting time might not be admirable, but in a life lived at full speed, even the strongest soul eventually longs for a moment of stillness.
The door swung open.
Joy stepped inside.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Lloyd tightened his grip around his fork and drove it straight into the dining table.
Figures. Whenever someone from the Purge Bureau showed up, nothing good ever followed. Whatever Joy had come for, Lloyd already knew one thing—it meant his peaceful day at home was officially over.
"Good morning, Lloyd."
Joy greeted him as calmly as ever. Perhaps daylight had washed away the gloom that had shadowed him the previous night.
He nodded politely to Sig and Mrs. Vanrud as well.
Joy had visited the house often enough that everyone had gradually become familiar with him, though they still weren't exactly close.
"So?"
Lloyd asked with an unmistakably sour expression, absentmindedly twisting the fork embedded in the table.
"What we need is... a conversation."
Joy glanced toward the others. Since none of them had anything to do with demons, that was all he was willing to reveal.
Lloyd let out a weary sigh.
"Give me a minute."
He disappeared upstairs to change.
The idle Lloyd vanished, replaced once again by the busy detective. By the time he returned, he was fully dressed, sword and weapons hanging where they belonged.
While he was gone, Sig quietly lifted his head and looked at the expressionless Joy.
Perhaps Joy had been right before—they belonged to different worlds.
In truth, Joy and Sig could probably have gotten along quite well. Unfortunately, Joy's life revolved around demons, and he had no intention of dragging innocent people into that darkness.
Sig, however, knew none of that.
"H-hello... nice to see you again."
Sig spoke with some hesitation.
He never had many friends. Perhaps because both of them had once suffered under hallucinogenic drugs, Sig always felt that Joy was somehow... one of his own kind.
"Mmm."
Joy answered curtly.
It was working hours.
Sig wanted to continue, but footsteps echoed from upstairs.
Lloyd descended, wearing the same familiar clothes, though now an odd pendant hung around his neck.
Before Joy could ask about it, Lloyd beat him to the question.
"You two know each other?"
His gaze shifted between Sig's hesitant expression and Joy's indifferent face.
Of course they knew each other.
Joy had visited the house countless times, and Sig had seen him often enough.
But this wasn't the look of mere acquaintances.
Something more had happened.
"We met at the support group."
Sig answered.
Joy offered no further explanation. He simply nodded once before urging Lloyd toward the door.
And just like that, the morning began in its usual rush.
Watching the two men leave, Sig stood there for a moment before finishing the food on his plate. He cleaned up quietly, preparing to head out himself.
"And where are you off to now?"
Mrs. Vanrud asked with gentle concern.
She had long grown used to Lloyd disappearing for entire days without explanation.
But Sig had only recently overcome his addiction. Though he'd been doing remarkably well lately, she still couldn't help worrying about the boy she had watched grow up.
"The support group."
Sig slung on his coat.
"White Chapel is reopening. The new doctor asked if I could help out more often."
...
The black carriage rolled steadily through the city.
Another day.
Another routine.
Receive a mission.
Follow the clues.
Draw the sword.
Kill demons.
Lloyd rested his head against the carriage wall, absentmindedly watching the scenery drift past outside the window.
After a long silence, something finally clicked in his mind.
"Support group?"
He slowly sat upright.
"The hallucinogen support group?"
His eyes narrowed as he turned toward Joy.
Joy, meanwhile, either failed to notice Lloyd's suspicious stare—or simply didn't care.
"Yeah."
"...Yeah?"
Lloyd stared blankly for a second.
Then his eyes flew wide open.
Without warning, he grabbed Joy by both shoulders and began shaking him violently.
"You? Joy? A hallucinogen support group?!"
His voice nearly exploded inside the carriage.
Joy only blinked in confusion.
"...What's strange about that?"
"What's strange?!"
Lloyd looked as though his entire worldview had collapsed.
"You're one of the Purge Bureau's senior knights! Elite anti-demon personnel! And you're telling me you used to be addicted to hallucinogens?"
He looked ready to burst into tears.
"You too? You've betrayed the cause!"
"...What?"
It took several minutes of verbal persuasion—and a fair amount of physical persuasion as well—before Joy finally managed to calm Lloyd down.
The two leaned back into their seats once more, exchanging exhausted looks.
"So..."
Lloyd rubbed his chin.
"This kind of thing happens a lot?"
"More often than you'd think."
Joy looked out the window.
"The truth is... learning about demons shook me more than I realized."
He paused before continuing.
"Lloyd, we've only been specially trained mentally. Against demons, we're stronger than ordinary people—but not by much. Spend enough years fighting them... and psychological damage becomes inevitable."
"Black Mountain Hospital."
Lloyd spoke almost instinctively.
After spending so much time around the Purge Bureau, he'd pieced together how the organization truly worked.
Frontline knights had a service life.
Once the burden on their minds reached its limit, they were pulled from active duty.
Most were sent to Black Mountain Hospital.
Those who recovered eventually returned to work.
Those who didn't...
Their endings varied.
No one in the Bureau liked speaking of that place.
Among the knights, it had another name.
The Graveyard.
Because most who entered never truly came back.
"That's right."
Joy's voice softened.
"I stayed there for quite a long time."
His gaze drifted toward memories only he could see.
"I was still a rookie back then. I joined because of my family's expectations."
"I thought I was joining some secret government agency. You know... hunting spies from Gallunaro or rival nations."
A faint smile crossed his lips.
"I was painfully naïve."
"Then someone told me demons were real."
He laughed quietly.
"I wasn't prepared at all."
"I was terrified."
"But there wasn't any time to prepare."
"So I was sent out."
"Mission after mission."
"Running everywhere."
"Carrying an aluminothermic rifle."
"Shooting demon after demon."
"I like that part."
Lloyd answered immediately.
Joy gave him an utterly unimpressed look.
"I didn't."
"This was before Old Century Divine Armor became standard equipment."
"Back then, we relied almost entirely on modern weapons and sheer manpower."
"Our casualty rates were horrific."
"I watched teammates slowly lose their minds."
"I watched one of them point his rifle at our own men."
"I couldn't save him."
"So..."
"I shot him first."
"And then I went back to killing demons."
His voice never wavered.
Perhaps after enough years of slaughter, even memories like those no longer stirred emotion.
"So that's when you got hooked?"
Lloyd asked.
"More or less."
Joy shrugged.
"Partly because of demonic corruption."
"Partly because of stress."
"During one operation we confiscated a large shipment of hallucinogens."
"I don't know what I was thinking."
"I convinced myself... maybe I deserved one beautiful dream in a world that looked so much like hell."
He smiled bitterly.
"You can guess the rest."
"I became addicted."
"My mind became unstable."
"I caused an operation to fail."
"I was isolated."
"Disciplined."
"And finally sent to Black Mountain Hospital for mandatory treatment."
He let out a quiet breath.
"It wasn't exactly one of the happier chapters of my life."
Even memories that should have been unbearable sounded almost ordinary when Joy recounted them.
"So yes."
"Anyone who fights demons long enough ends up broken somehow."
"My obsession became cleanliness."
"I can't stand demon blood touching me."
Lloyd couldn't help noticing how spotless Joy's clothes always were.
Standing beside him made Lloyd feel less like a detective and more like a stray dog that had spent the morning rolling around in mud.
"What about everyone else?"
Lloyd asked.
"Pretty much the same."
Joy answered calmly.
"Everyone's been affected in one way or another."
"The demons magnify whatever flaws already exist."
"We've simply learned to hide them."
"Most of us are patients pretending to be healthy."
As he spoke, Joy turned toward Lloyd.
The detective seemed almost completely unmoved.
Madness.
Trauma.
Mental illness.
To Lloyd, words like those carried no more weight than dead leaves scattered across the street.
That realization stirred an odd feeling inside Joy.
His own life brushed constantly against madness, yet a part of him still remained in the ordinary world.
Lloyd, however...
He had grown up inside insanity itself.
To him, horrors that would shatter ordinary minds had become nothing more than everyday life.
Joy finally asked,
"Lloyd..."
"Don't you have any flaws?"
"Any darkness hiding inside you?"
"My flaws?"
Lloyd actually considered the question.
Then he laughed.
"Me?"
"I'm Lloyd Holmes."
"I'm invincible."
"How could I possibly have something like that?"
And strangely enough...
It almost seemed true.
No matter the situation, Lloyd always remained perfectly rational.
Even facing someone as overwhelming as Lawrence had never inspired even the slightest fear.
Joy slowly shook his head.
"Or maybe..."
"You've simply lived in the mud for so long that you've forgotten you're standing in it."
There was no such thing as a flawless human being.
Not even the greatest demon hunter.
If Lloyd appeared perfect, perhaps it was only because he had never recognized the cracks within himself.
"You might have some strange psychological disorder."
"You just haven't noticed it yet."
Lloyd thought for a while before answering seriously.
"...Does really enjoying killing demons count?"
Then he burst into laughter.
"Honestly, every time I cut one down, it feels incredible."
"If demons had human emotions..."
"They'd probably think I was some bloodthirsty serial killer."
For reasons known only to himself, he sounded oddly proud.
"...By the way."
Lloyd glanced out the window.
The streets had grown wider, cleaner, more elegant.
They were approaching the Inner District.
"So where exactly are we going?"
"You'll know when we get there."
Joy offered nothing more.
The carriage eventually came to a halt before an imposing hall.
Armed guards stood watch all around the building.
A liveried attendant opened the carriage door and silently guided them inside.
They passed beneath towering stone arches.
Above them stretched a magnificent dome woven from steel and glass.
Massive columns slipped behind them one after another until two familiar figures came into view.
Blue Emerald.
Shrike.
Both wore unusually formal attire.
Behind them stood soldiers carrying aluminothermic rifles.
Lloyd's instincts screamed.
Without a word, his hand slipped through the hidden tear inside his coat, fingers closing around the grip of the shotgun concealed beneath.
Unfortunately...
Shrike knew him far too well.
Before Lloyd could draw the weapon, Shrike stepped forward and firmly caught his arm.
"No weapons inside, Lloyd."
"And what are you doing here?"
Lloyd shot back.
Shrike rarely left the Lower District unless something truly important had happened.
That alone was enough to convince Lloyd today's meeting was anything but ordinary.
"I'd appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Holmes."
Blue Emerald spoke calmly from the side.
"We've worked hard to build the trust we currently share."
Lloyd hesitated.
After a long silence, he reluctantly surrendered the shotgun.
"And the rest."
Shrike added without missing a beat.
Lloyd glared at him.
Then, with visible irritation, he handed over a concealed dagger...
...followed by the sword-cane he always carried.
Only then did Shrike step aside.
Behind him, the great doors slowly opened.
Sunlight poured into the chamber beyond.
It was a conference room.
Everyone inside was already seated, as though they had been waiting for Lloyd alone.
He walked in slowly.
Arthur.
Merlin.
The two Knight Commanders he'd met at the Perpetual Engine—Gawain and Percival.
Across from them sat several strangers.
Yet something about them felt unnervingly familiar.
Lloyd found himself staring a little longer.
The room was clearly divided into two camps.
On one side stood Arthur and the Purge Bureau.
On the other...
The mysterious visitors.
Lloyd deliberately chose a chair near the entrance, maintaining what he considered a healthy distance from both factions.
Arthur finally broke the silence.
"It's been quite some time, Mr. Holmes."
Lloyd leaned lazily against the chair, though beneath that casual posture every instinct remained alert.
"So..."
He sighed.
"What is it this time, Arthur?"
"Nothing complicated."
Arthur smiled.
"We simply thought it better to clear away a few misunderstandings."
"After all..."
"Cooperation built on honesty is far more reassuring than cooperation built on suspicion."
His gaze shifted toward the opposite side of the room.
"Someone wished to meet you personally."
"To confirm a few things."
As Arthur finished speaking, one of the men across the table slowly rose to his feet.
He inclined his head politely.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lloyd Holmes."
The priest smiled warmly.
Then he spoke words that froze the air in Lloyd's lungs.
"You may call me Father Anthony."
"I am the newly appointed High Preceptor of the Demon Hunters' Order."
For a heartbeat, Lloyd simply stared.
Then every muscle in his body tightened.
His eyes swept across the attendants standing silently nearby.
Only now did he understand why they had seemed so strangely familiar.
Demon hunters.
Every one of them.
Deep within his veins...
The Secret Blood stirred.
Not with fear.
But with eager anticipation.