Lucien had always believed that living alone meant simplicity—eat whatever was convenient, get through the day, and move on. But there was one thing he never compromised on.
Food.
No matter where he was, that remained non-negotiable.
Back in his university days, that stubbornness had pushed him to move out of the dormitory entirely. Not because he disliked people, but because he refused to survive on tasteless takeout. Ironically, that decision only made his friends visit him more often. Once they tasted his cooking, his apartment practically became their second home.
A faint smile crossed his face at the memory.
But that was the past.
Right now, standing in his quiet shop after finishing a proper meal, Lucien wiped his hands clean and stepped out toward the old phone booth down the street. He dialed a familiar number, his expression returning to calm indifference.
The line connected quickly.
"Hello, Detective."
There was a brief pause, followed by a voice filled with surprise. "Lucien? Is that really you?"
"Still alive," Lucien replied lightly.
The man on the other end chuckled, clearly relieved. Their relationship had changed significantly since the incident with Mary Shaw. What had started as skepticism had turned into something close to respect. After all, not many people could walk away from something like that unscathed.
After a few brief exchanges, Lucien got straight to the point.
"I need you to look into someone," he said. "A girl named Esther. Recently adopted. I want everything—background, orphanage records, staff, anything unusual."
The detective immediately grew serious.
"You think she's connected to something… like before?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. "I think she's a problem. That's enough."
There was no need to say more.
"Got it," the detective replied without hesitation. "I'll dig into it and get back to you tonight."
Lucien gave a quiet acknowledgment, but just as he was about to hang up, the man hesitated.
"Actually… there's something else."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
It didn't take long for the explanation to come out. Ever since Ravensfield, the detective had been plagued by nightmares—vivid, suffocating memories of Mary Shaw that refused to fade. What used to be confidence had slowly turned into unease.
Lucien listened silently, then exhaled.
"That's not anything supernatural," he said flatly. "That's trauma."
"…Oh."
There was an awkward pause.
For a moment, Lucien considered ending the call, but then something crossed his mind.
"I might have something that can help," he added.
"Really?" the detective asked quickly.
"Talismans."
The word hung in the air for a second.
"Calming ones, protective ones… take your pick," Lucien continued. "But I don't give things away for free."
The detective laughed, relief obvious in his voice. "Fair enough. I'll come by later."
After ending the call, Lucien stood there for a moment, a faint smirk forming.
Business… seemed to be finding him on its own.
Though the realization hit him almost immediately after.
"…When did I start running an exorcism service?"
He shook his head lightly and returned to the shop, glancing around at the dusty shelves. Most of the antiques were mediocre at best. A few valuable pieces remained, but not enough to sustain anything long-term.
He sighed.
"Temporary," he muttered to himself. "Just temporary."
But just as he was about to sit down, something shifted.
A presence.
Subtle, but unmistakable.
Lucien didn't turn immediately. He didn't need to. The faint sound of the door opening, followed by slow, deliberate footsteps, was enough.
"Welcome," he said casually.
Only then did he look up.
Standing before him was a small figure dressed in black—a gothic style, delicate ribbons tied neatly, her appearance almost doll-like in its precision.
Esther.
For anyone else, she would have looked harmless. Cute, even.
But Lucien saw something entirely different.
Ugly.
Twisted.
Rotten beneath the surface.
His gaze remained calm, but something in his body shifted slightly. Not tension—anticipation.
"So," he said quietly, leaning back just a little, "you came all the way here."
Esther didn't respond immediately.
But her eyes…
For a brief second, the mask slipped.
Hatred.
Pure, unfiltered.
That feeling from earlier—it wasn't one-sided.
She had already made her decision.
Lucien chuckled softly under his breath.
"Interesting."
He hadn't even gone looking for her yet, and she had already walked straight into his territory.
How convenient.
Across from him, Esther felt it too—that suffocating sensation, like standing in front of something she couldn't understand, something that saw straight through her carefully constructed disguise.
It made her skin crawl.
This man… knew.
Not guessed. Not suspected.
Knew.
And that made him dangerous.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides, though her expression remained perfectly innocent.
But inside—
The decision had already been made.
He couldn't be allowed to live.
Lucien tilted his head slightly, watching her like one would observe something mildly amusing.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Let me guess," he said softly, voice calm but carrying a sharp edge, "you're here to silence me?"
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier.
The game had begun.
And neither of them intended to back down.