"When the day she spoke of arrives... this place will become the next Sodom—"
Leaning against the bar, Imhotep raised her glass to sample the drink Raven had handed her, listening as the gray-haired mercenary reported on her conversation with Jackal that morning.
"Only a select few, favored and chosen by fate, will escape the world-consuming karmic flames."
"As for the abandoned... they will be reduced to ashes in history... However, she is no god and has no right to wield divine authority... Therefore—"
"All transgressions must be paid for..."
Swirling the wine in her glass, Imhotep turned to Cioara.
"So, Cioara, what kind of person do you think Jackal is?"
"—In a way, she has indeed shown you her true self."
"Jackal, huh..."
"If I were still the villain I once was, she'd be a true demon... But now, I don't know how to judge her anymore."
"Hell is empty, and the demons walk among us... only for you to discover that even demons have a pure side?" Imhotep watched Raven, whose expression was a mixture of complex emotions, with a playful smile.
"Exactly... But today, all I saw was a deeply paranoid individual... 'Good' and 'evil' might not be the right words to describe her..."
"The world has never been black and white... It's a murky gray. Even the most radiant Schicksal Overseer has a dark side, and the most despicable, shameless scoundrel has their own redeeming qualities—"
Imhotep shook her head, waiting for Cioara to continue.
"If you call her a villain... everything she does is for the continuation of humanity, merely executing the legacy left behind by Doctor Mei fifty thousand years ago."
"But if you call her a hero... the ghosts of all the victims and sacrifices in this city would probably haunt me in my sleep..."
.....
Cioara fell into deep thought.
"In a way, she's a paranoid fanatic too... Yes! That's it! A paranoid fanatic who hides her true nature behind a mask of arrogance, pride in her talent, and sheer hubris—"
Having seemingly reached a conclusion, Raven nodded at Imhotep and stated her findings.
"Ah... paranoia. It seems most leaders and high-ranking members of organizations have a touch of that, don't they?" Imhotep nodded, agreeing with Raven's assessment.
"An excellent analysis, Miss Raven. Now do you understand why we need to hit her hard?"
"For a single-minded, self-proclaimed genius like her... a couple of slaps across the face won't do a thing. Only a soul-crushing failure can bring about a truly transformative change."
"For the upcoming experiments, just follow her instructions—someone will come to disrupt things."
"I understand. But there's still one thing I can't accept..."
"Oh? And what's that?" Imhotep's eyes lit up with interest.
"How can Jackal treat the deaths of so many innocent people as a matter of course, without even a flicker of hesitation?"
"...That's surprising. For a mercenary who lives by the blade, why would you ask such a question?" The girl's expression showed a hint of astonishment.
"Lose your humanity, and you lose much."
"Lose your animal nature, and you lose everything..."
"Of course, everyone hesitates, everyone feels lost at some point—but perhaps she has buried all of that beneath the Mask of Anubis, her heart now as hard as iron..."
"Even the creator god did not love humanity, so what does it matter if humans become demons?"
"The Jackal you know... or rather, Doctor Cleo, the 'mad scientist' of popular perception, was born from that moment..."
"Compared to the previous era's Doctor Mobius, who had flexible moral boundaries... Doctor Cleo... she probably has no boundaries left at all—"
"She is indeed a genius, but the line between genius and madwoman is often razor-thin, distinguished only by whether they are restrained by a 'leash.' And as you've seen—"
"Kevin or Gray Serpent did indeed put a 'leash' on her, but those two bastards—whether intentionally or not—forgot to tie the other end of the leash to a pillar called 'morality'."
"And without the constraints of morality, the genius Doctor Cleo naturally ran wild like an untethered stray dog, gleefully trampling over ethics and morals at every turn—"
Imhotep casually tossed the detailed file on the creation codenamed "Death Weaver" onto a corner of the bar and drained her glass in one gulp.
"Besides, that woman's brain is genuinely fried sometimes..." A corner of the girl's mouth twitched as if recalling something unpleasant.
"Oh? Like when?"
Now it was Raven's turn to look intrigued.
"Like the idiot who broadcast her entire battle plan over an open channel—you'll see soon enough."
"In research, she might truly be called a creative genius—but in every other aspect, the description 'all ambition, no skill' fits her perfectly."
"Hmm, is it almost noon already? Time to go out for lunch—"
"Not eating at the bar? There's quite a lot to eat here."
"Forget it. I don't think you want to experience my cooking, and I certainly don't want to experience your Chinese cooking either. Rita and Irene are preparing a lavish lunch at your apartment... If you plan on eating fast food alone at the bar, I'm leaving without you."
Imhotep stood up, stretched lazily, and headed toward the bar's entrance.
"Wait! I'll be right there after I clean up."
-
"Ready? Get in, then—"
Imhotep, waiting impatiently in the driver's seat of her sports car, watched Raven rush out of the bar. She waved her hand, gesturing for Raven to hurry up and get in—a hungry person's mealtime was not to be delayed.
"Huff... I just got a new shipment in, had to organize it—Whoa!"
Miss Raven had barely settled into the seat, not even having time to buckle her seatbelt, when the impatient, hangry driver slammed the accelerator to the floor.
"Wait! Are you some kind of reincarnated starving ghost?!"
"That's the Kaslana family, what does that have to do with me, Imhotep?!"
"Then at least slow down! I haven't even buckled my seatbelt yet!!!"
Poor Raven was thrown back into the sports car seat, her hands trembling as she fumbled for the seatbelt buckle.
"Hilarious! Slow down and get pulled over by the Arc City traffic cops? I don't even have a license!!!"
"Holy shit... Is it too late to jump out now?!"
"The car's current speed is 420 km/h. If you think you're brave enough, go ahead and jump—World Serpent won't be paying your worker's comp, though."
"Help me—!!!"
A blood-curdling scream tore through the street, accompanied by the wailing police sirens trailing the black supercar—
"Shut up! Whether we eat in a jail cell or at home is my call right now!!!"