Would a fleeing Demoness find her savior?

"Damn it! That damned Demoness!" The Magician looked rather bedraggled. Frost covered his coat, yet the flesh exposed beneath it bore burns.

The streams of flame he had released for Flaming Jump had instead fed the Demoness's black flames to some extent.

"I've gotten complacent after spending so long with a bunch of rookies..." The Magician panted, clearly dissatisfied with his performance.

In the battle just now, the Demoness had evaded their opening ambush, instantly changing the situation.

With her familiarity with the terrain and her strange thread abilities, she had been like a female spider, impossible to engage at close range. Even the Clown accompanying him had been bound by her threads and thrown downstairs.

He viciously kicked away the shards of ice at his feet. Taking rookies on missions really was lethal. Even his own reactions had been half a beat too slow; he had failed to realize they had already been exposed while sneaking inside.

"Mirror Substitution. What a troublesome ability..."

"A Demoness's survival tricks really do live up to their reputation..."

He pulled his collar open and panted, his back teeth grinding audibly. The playing card that should have sliced into the Demoness's forehead was now embedded in a mirror five meters away, still quivering.

He was in bad shape, but the Demoness was hardly any better off.

The Demoness named Sharon had sprung his trap and taken several hits from his Air Bullets.

With injuries like those, even a Warrior would have been suffering.

As long as he held out until his teammates arrived to support him, the Demoness would undoubtedly lose.

Precisely for that reason, the Demoness had not lingered once she realized she was trapped in a battle of attrition. After dealing with the Clown, she had swiftly smashed through a window and fled.

In his poor condition, the Magician had not immediately pursued her. Instead, he stayed where he was and waited for his teammates.

With a Seer's abilities, the Demoness could never escape. Once they were together, dealing with the wounded Demoness would only be a matter of time.

"Where are those boys?"

"Did they run into that Demoness?"

When his teammates failed to arrive, the Magician suddenly had a bad feeling. He hurriedly reached out and transferred the wound on his abdomen to his left arm. The pain made his vision darken, but at least he could move freely now.

"Those troublesome idiots..." He rose and headed toward the front door.

Klein swore he had never encountered such an awkward situation.

Provided he excluded that incident at the Divination Club, this was the most awkward situation he had ever faced.

Like his colleagues around him, he felt somewhat at a loss as he looked at the three figures before them.

In front of Madam Sharon's house, the two groups stood facing each other in a standoff.

Neither side moved, afraid of igniting this powder keg that would explode at the slightest spark.

Who are they, and why are they here? That question lingered in the minds of the Nighthawks team.

The Circus team on the other side had similar questions.

"Who are they?"

"Judging by their clothes, they look like Nighthawks. Why are the Nighthawks here?"

But there was one thing both sides could be certain of: the people opposite them were not to be trifled with.

After a brief silence, acting captain Frye spoke first. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"We-we're..." The Clown's mind went blank for a moment. He could not think of an excuse.

No, claiming we're just bystanders won't work now. They'll never believe us.

The Clown gritted his teeth, then slightly lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile.

"Please put down your weapons and squat with your hands on your heads." Seeing his strange reaction, Frye continued with a grave expression.

At those words, the Clown at the front only smiled more brightly. After exchanging glances with his teammates, the three gradually spread out into a combat formation.

The situation began to spiral out of control.

Bang!

A gunshot shattered the silence of the night.

Overcome by nerves, the Seer had instinctively pulled the trigger.

At that instant, everyone present's pupils dilated.

"Damn it!"

"Where the hell did those people come from...?"

Sharon staggered and braced herself against a broken wall, panting heavily.

The neckline of her lace nightgown had torn all the way down to her waist. The blood-crusted fabric rose and fell with her breathing, while moonlight slid along her collarbones toward the snow-white skin beneath the shredded cloth.

This was the instinct of Pleasure. Even while fleeing with grievous wounds, every movement of her skin carried an innate allure.

In stark contrast to her enticing body, her face was filled with twisted hatred.

Had she not left certain arrangements in the house that alerted her to danger beforehand, she would probably have become a charred corpse in that explosion.

As a veteran Demoness, she had anticipated such a situation and prepared several safe houses in Tingen City specifically for it.

With little spirituality remaining, she could not use her Beyonder abilities to escape. Fortunately, as a Sequence 6 Beyonder, she could still move fairly quickly on foot, even wounded.

Unfortunately, she had barely taken a couple of steps before she heard footsteps in the distance.

Sharon frowned. With a Demoness's sense for danger, she could be certain that whoever was approaching was a Beyonder.

"Damn it. Is it an accomplice of those two...?"

"This neighborhood has a pretty nice atmosphere." Lorne surveyed his surroundings and muttered to himself.

Compared with the rust-scented Iron Cross Street neighborhood, this area was much cleaner and tidier.

"Maybe this is what a wealthy neighborhood looks like in this era..."

His footsteps suddenly stopped.

The Robot's spiritual premonition had been triggered.

Something's nearby... Lorne immediately realized something was wrong.

His satchel suddenly shook violently. Lucky inside seemed to have sensed something too. She pried open the satchel's clasp with her forepaws, then shot out like a compressed spring and leaped onto a nearby wall.

She then darted across the surrounding houses and vanished into the night in a flash.

Tap... tap... tap...

Before he could attend to Lucky, the sound of footsteps reached Lorne's ears.

With

his Robot-enhanced vision, Lorne could clearly make out the approaching person's appearance.

It was a woman covered in wounds. Her lace nightgown was in tatters, exposing the snow-white skin beneath.

Lorne could smell a peculiar fragrance on her, one that seemed capable of ensnaring another person's mind.

Then there was her expression, gentle as water, as though beckoning to him.

This strange allure felt faintly familiar to Lorne.

That Silver-Haired Woman in Backlund!

That's right, that woman... Lorne recalled his experience in the alley that day. The impression she had given him then was the same as that of the woman before him.

The same Pathway?

Robot also provided some enhancement to his mental resistance. This level of temptation was still within what Lorne could withstand.

Rather than heed her beckoning, he slowly backed away, one step at a time.

The woman was clearly in poor condition. Lorne did not dare make any conspicuous movements, afraid of startling her.

"Huh?"

After taking just two steps, Lorne discovered that he seemed unable to move.

He lowered his head and found a black thread already wound around his ankle.

Danger!