"It's her!"
The moment Aaron saw the woman performing divination, he understood.
In the occult world, there had always been a rumor—no, confirmed intelligence.
—At Investigation Bureau headquarters, there was a master diviner who never left the Bureau, yet was the nightmare of every occult organization!
On the black market, the bounty on her head was—one hundred thousand pounds!!
Of course, not a single assassin dared take on that job. All who had tried were dead.
Her codename was—"Fireworks"!
This Lady Fireworks has it rough too. How is this kind of life any different from that of a prisoner...?
Aaron watched Lady Fireworks and let out a quiet sigh.
Fireworks were dazzling, yet vanished in an instant. It suited her identity quite well.
She was not like him. Performing divinations at such intensity, perhaps involving so many secrets—how could she possibly avoid paying a price?
She looks like a young girl, but she's almost dead.
Observing her spirit body, Aaron silently came to that conclusion.
At that moment, he also heard her "prophecy."
"Pope Ferret has finally arrived?"
Aaron turned, preparing to leave and pass through the Gate of Hell to watch the show in the square.
Just then, Lady "Fireworks" suddenly looked in Aaron's direction.
Confusion filled her eyes. The black notebook in her hand abruptly flipped open by itself, its pages rustling as it turned to the newest page.
Yet that page remained blank. Nothing appeared upon it.
"Was it... an illusion?"
Lady Fireworks sighed.
As expected... those with high-order essence on the divination path possess the sharpest intuition. Though... that no longer counts as intuition. Is it some kind of instinct?
That woman... is lonely. So very lonely...
Aaron arrived before the "Gate of Hell," and his illusory spirit body slowly merged into the pitch-black door.