For a brief moment, Carl's eyes kept shifting between Lucien and the detective.
The tension between the two was obvious, and it immediately sparked curiosity—not just in him, but in everyone nearby. Conversations in the station slowly died down, replaced by quiet whispers.
"Did you see that? The detective actually lost his temper…"
"Who is that guy? Doesn't look like someone ordinary."
"No idea… but Johnny's definitely in trouble this time."
The low murmurs, mixed with suppressed laughter, made Johnny's face burn red with embarrassment. Yet he didn't dare say a word. Not now. Not when the man standing in front of him could end his career with a single decision.
Meanwhile, Lucien remained completely indifferent.
To him, someone like Johnny wasn't worth wasting time on. A bully who preyed on the weak was predictable—and ultimately insignificant.
Once the detective finished venting his anger, he finally waved his hand impatiently.
"Suspended for a week. Reflect on your actions before coming back."
Johnny stiffened but didn't argue. He simply nodded and stepped back, swallowing his humiliation.
"Carl, come with us," the detective added.
Without another glance, he led Lucien toward his office.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted.
The moment the door closed, the tension from outside disappeared, replaced by something more serious.
"Explain everything. Don't leave anything out," the detective said.
Carl nodded and began recounting everything—from the accusation to the strange behavior of the girl and her so-called father.
By the time he finished, the room had gone quiet.
The detective turned to Lucien, his eyes asking a silent question.
Lucien understood immediately and gave a small nod.
"It's fine. He can know."
Carl frowned slightly, confused, until the detective spoke again—this time revealing the truth.
Esther.
Or rather… Lina.
A grown woman. A killer. A predator hiding behind the body of a child.
Carl's expression froze.
"…I knew it," he muttered, a chill running down his spine. "There was something wrong with her."
He let out a breath, shaking his head slightly.
"That's disgusting…"
Then he looked up again, serious.
"So what now? Do we arrest her?"
"Not yet," the detective replied.
"Why?" Carl pressed.
Lucien leaned back slightly before answering instead.
"Because she's not the real problem."
Both men looked at him.
"She's being used," Lucien continued calmly. "If we move now, we'll alert the ones behind her."
Silence fell again.
This time, heavier.
Carl slowly processed those words, realization dawning in his eyes.
"…So that's why you brought him in," he said to the detective.
"Exactly."
Lucien didn't comment. Instead, he shifted the topic.
"Carl, earlier you mentioned something strange about the father—John. Blind trust. Unusual behavior."
Carl nodded. "Yeah. It didn't feel normal."
Lucien's gaze sharpened slightly.
"He's under influence."
"…Influence?" the detective asked.
"Voodoo."
The word hung in the air.
Carl blinked. "Wait… that's real?"
Lucien's lips curved faintly.
"Just because you haven't seen something doesn't mean it doesn't exist."
Neither of them argued after that.
"Come with me," Lucien said, standing up. "I'll show you."
A short while later, they arrived at the antique shop.
The street outside was lively, full of people and business—but Lucien's shop remained quiet, almost isolated from the rest of the world.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The moment they entered, both Carl and the detective paused.
A brief wave of dizziness hit them.
Their vision blurred for a second—then returned to normal.
"Strong incense…" Carl muttered, brushing it off.
But Lucien didn't move.
His expression slowly darkened.
"…No."
He took a slow breath, focusing.
Beneath the familiar scent of incense… there was something else.
Something subtle.
Something wrong.
Without wasting time, he began searching.
It didn't take long.
From beneath a display case, he swept out a small piece of smoldering plant material.
"This," he said calmly.
Carl frowned. "What is it?"
Lucien crushed it underfoot.
"Hallucinogenic tobacco."
The detective's expression changed immediately.
"Small doses cause dizziness. Larger ones… unconsciousness. Enough exposure…" Lucien paused briefly, "…and you die."
Carl stiffened.
"…You're serious?"
Lucien didn't answer that directly.
Instead, his eyes moved across the shop.
"This wasn't meant to kill me."
His voice turned colder.
"It was meant to force me out."
The realization hit instantly.
"If I leave… she gets access to the shop."
Carl clenched his jaw. "That little—"
"She's smarter than you think," Lucien cut in calmly.
Then he walked toward the counter.
And stopped.
His gaze fixed on a specific spot.
"…There you are."
At first, the others saw nothing.
Then, slowly, they noticed it.
A pattern.
Faint. Almost invisible.
Two snakes coiled around a human figure, their fangs embedded deep into its neck. A thin line of red marked the blood flowing down.
The longer they looked, the more unsettling it became.
Carl felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"What… is that?"
"A curse."
Lucien's voice was calm—but firm.
"This one drains life force. Anyone sitting here for long… slowly weakens. Then dies."
The detective immediately stepped back.
Carl didn't move, but his expression turned serious.
"…That's insane."
Lucien crouched slightly, observing it.
"Crude work. But effective."
He grabbed some incense ash and scattered it over the symbol, then wiped it away cleanly with a cloth.
Just like that—the curse disappeared.
"Who did this?" Carl asked.
Lucien didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked to a corner and pulled out a hidden DV camera.
"There's no need to guess."
He handed it over.
The detective played the footage.
A figure appeared on screen.
Small.
Careful.
Moving like a shadow.
Esther.
Silence filled the room.
Lucien watched without emotion.
Then, slowly, he spoke.
"For people like her… evidence doesn't matter."
His eyes turned cold.
"Suspicion is enough to destroy someone."
A faint smile appeared on his lips—sharp, dangerous.
"She wanted me labeled… disgraced… dead without anyone questioning it."
He paused.
Then looked toward the door.
"…But she made one mistake."
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier.
"She chose me."