Iver did not go looking for the wheelchair. He simply got out of bed in his pajamas.
He stepped directly onto the soft, dry carpet and could not help remarking, "It really was cleaned quite thoroughly. I don't see any bloodstains on the floor, and even the carpet wasn't dirtied... Nicely done, Shadow Demon."
The moment Iver's feet touched the floor, the contract between the Shadow Demon and Iver connected, activating the Shadow Demon's power.
The morning light of the Rising Sun was shining directly on Iver.
The sunlight was not particularly strong, and it only cast a faint shadow behind him. But after the Shadow Demon became active, that shadow suddenly deepened—as if a large amount of ink had dripped into water. The shadow at Iver's feet became like a fluffy black cat.
The entire room grew dim. Countless black wisps of smoke gradually solidified and slowly crawled over every window. The increasingly thick shadow patterns resembled dense blood vessels and nerves, or slowly growing branches, almost completely blocking out the sunlight beyond the windows.
Only a little sunlight seeped in now. The room was dim yet barely visible, like the moment when dawn was about to break but had not quite arrived.
"It's a little too dark."
Iver said casually, "But whatever. As long as you're happy.
"I thought you would tear her to pieces. I was prepared to just pick out anything useful... I didn't expect everything to be preserved so intact."
He sifted through and inspected his spoils.
The more he examined them, the stranger his expression became.
Never mind the equipment—why had even her underwear been preserved so perfectly?... Ah, no. That actually seemed reasonable.
If all the equipment was intact but only the underwear had disappeared, that would have been even stranger...
Iver searched