ANNOUNCEMENT:
Currently, I have been combining two/three chapters into one large chapter. However, it has come to attention that this is a bit hard for many to digest, especially since most are reading on small screens. To accommodate everyone, chapters will be split into consumable chunks.
So to keep consistency, I'll be doing the same across all platforms I'm using. Mon/Wed/Fri will still be days where I upload. Only, instead of three chapters a week, it will be six. I also might off-handedly upload on Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday too, though that would depend on how busy I am. But a schedule of six chapters a week is still guaranteed. Bear with the decimals for a bit until chapter 12
Enjoy the story and thanks for your continued support.
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Home…when was the last time he heard that word? No, there was no 'last' time. He'd never heard it before. The home he had was never real. His mother and father were never real. But this…this was real. He could feel it, embrace it and maybe, just maybe…cherish it.
"Home…"
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|DxD|- Chapter 8- Consequences
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The clicking of a pen, the groan of stretching couch leather, and an occasional sigh of boredom were what accompanied Cleria while she did her late morning paperwork. She was writing a report on her usage of the stray hunt and the phoenix tear because her oh-so loving clan head LOST the original record. As if the matter with that dead Jonathan wasn't enough! What's next? Would she have to autopsy him as well?
Diehauser comfortably laid on the couch from end to end. He had a pen he clicked out of boredom every once in a while. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the office like incense. It was one of the very few things keeping Cleria sane…
"Do not forget to write the cause of death as well, my dearest cousin~."
…or at least tried to.
"..."
*Snap!*
The pen broke under her tight grip. Ink almost spilled onto her report, but she swiftly moved the paper away. Her hand was glazed with black ink along with the tip of her tongue. The clock hand moved agonizingly slow, accompanied only by splotches of ink dripping from her hand onto the table. Her nails were ruined. The cuffs of her dress were ruined.
[I hate him.]
A choked laugh pulled her from her thoughts. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Diehauser barely restraining an amused smile. Some days she wondered how he became patriarch.
She silently flung a hundred curses at him before cleaning up. A flash of magic covered her hand and the ink along with the fragments of metal vanished. She pulled open her drawer and took out another pen before pulling back the document to continue writing.
As long as she focused, she wouldn't make mistakes because knowing her darling 'cousin', it wasn't above him to make her write a third report. This time, she would make a copy. But first, a cup of coffee to reduce her…stress.
"..."
Cleria held the cup in her hand. It was empty with not a single grain remaining. This was beyond "licked clean". Even the old brown smudges at the bottom rim from years of coffee grains had been cleaned as well.
She looked at the culprit. Only he was the one in this mansion fast enough to escape her notice. He probably ran to the other side of town and drank her coffee before returning as if nothing happened.
"What?"
He stopped clicking his pen and asked curiously. There was genuine confusion on his face, but Cleria knew better. The last time that innocent look worked was eighty years ago. The fact that he made it meant he was guilty.
"Cousin."
There was an edge to her voice, an undertone that held malevolence.
"It wasn't me."
Diehauser shrugged casually.
"Not you? How would you know what I'm talking about?"
Cleria lifted her cup to show the empty interior. It dangled from her fingertip.
"You're the one who drank my coffee, right?"
"Think of it as a reflexive action, Cler. When you get that look, it means you will blame me for something."
"Because you're always the culprit!"
Cleria felt her brain would overheat from her cousin's shamelessness. She tried her best to be an elegant woman, but just being with him would awaken her less than ladylike thoughts.
[One of these days, I'll crush a dog's testicle and mix it with coffee. See if he likes it then.]
Cleria calmed herself of these malicious thoughts. It was not befitting a woman of her stature. She only had to endure and finish her report. Hopefully, this would please her cousin and he'll finally leave instead of staying here like the parasite he is.
[And finally stop his annoying humming and hovering.]
The seconds stretched into minutes in rather comfortable silence. She had added two pages to the small stack of documents comprising her report. The hunt for the stray devil had lasted four days. He was slippery and had taken lives during that time.
Deaths of humans were always a logistical nightmare to handle. Many aspects had to be manipulated to prevent suspicions of foul play or even discovery of the supernatural. Eyewitnesses had to have their memories erased. Fabricated explanations had to be given for any damaged infrastructure. Supernatural traces had to be erased.
Just this alone took several pages of documentation excluding the required copies of any falsified death certificates and reports. Her peerage could assist as her arms and legs, but she as the Overseer had to write the report at the end of the day.
The worst part of writing her report wasn't even the phoenix tear. It was that blonde boy named Igor. Because she gave him to Shuri, this meant the Shinto had also become involved, which meant more reports had to be submitted to Shuri since she was in all essence, her supervisor.
Cleria questioned her decision of sending the child to Shuri. But did she have a choice? As an Overseer, her every action was watched with scrutiny. If she had brought a child to her estate, questions would be asked and investigations would be conducted.
In light of this, she stared at where her pen had stopped. Two days ago, she had written down her full observations on the boy as justification for using the phoenix tear to the Devil Administration. But now, she hesitated. Just writing down that he rejected Evil Pieces would send undercurrents throughout the Underworld.
However, she had already sent a report to her clan stating she used the tear on a human. Just that alone would invite severe scrutiny. Even the kindest of devils would first attempt to reincarnate a human.
She could lie and claim he was from the church, but that would require a follow-up and the lie would be exposed. And if she did give him to the church, he would only become an experiment once his immunity to reincarnation was discovered.
She massaged her head in silence. What could she do here?
"Hmmmm~. Hmmm~ hmm~ hmm~."
"..."
The veins on her forehead twitched. Diehauser had been humming a tune for who knows how long and it was becoming very irritating.
"Would you please stop singing, cousin?"
Her composure was already standing on its last legs from the blunder she made. A solution was something she needed quickly.
"Oh? Isn't my singing calming you down? You used to love this lullaby?"
[That's why you're still breathing.]
She kept her words inward. Rather than engage her cousin in their usual jousting, she preferred to find a way out of this quagmire she unknowingly walked into. If only she had taken the time to sit and think before writing that report.
"Please, cousin. Right now I need to think. I might've gotten myself into some trouble."
She hadn't spared him a glance this whole time. Her thumbs were pressed to the side of her head and her fingers were interlocked over her forehead like a cap. Her vision had narrowed to what was in front of her.
Two days ago right after leaving Igor with Shuri, she had written a vague letter to her clan. If she could go back in time, she would change the word 'human' to 'peerage'. If a formal report wasn't sent to the Administration soon…
"Did you finally figure it out?"
"..."
She turned to face him silently. He still lay relaxed on the couch without a care in the world. But his expression had turned from jovial to serious. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. Did he see something on her face?
"I see you did. Good."
He shifted his posture and sat upright.
"I was curious when you'd come to realise you'd waddled yourself neck-deep into unforgiving waters."
Diehauser spoke rather calmly. He waved his hand and a single document appeared in thin air and glided onto her table. It was…
"My report!"
Cleria stood up suddenly in complete surprise and finally, joy. Her hands clutched the document in a firm grip. Her eyes scanned the familiar paragraphs multiple times.
"It really is my report!"
Words could not describe the glee she felt. Her heart was pounding like a drum.
"How did you—"
"Sit down."
Diehauser's command came like a church gong. It rang with finality and authority. He appeared on the other side of the table without a sound. She was on the main chair, but the positions had reversed.
Cleria quietly sat down without resistance and he also took a seat. A file of documents appeared between his fingers. She recognised the file. It contained the formal report she had written for the Administration Bureau, the one he had supposedly lost. He put it down in front of him before looking at her intently.
"We have much to discuss, cousin. We will first start with the…blunder on your first report."
Chapter 8
END
