"Good morning, everyone~!" chimed the Phantomhive menace as he appeared in the dining room. "Oh! That's a cute shirt, Luka."
"Good thing I don't go to Warwick, then." the lad replied, pointing at his brother with his fork. "I'd have to wear a uniform. Isn't it wonderful that I don't have to go there?"
"Yeah, you might get like, traditionally educated, or something. Ooo~!" Jim waved his hands and widened his eyes. "Spooky!" He sat down in his usual chair at the table, to his husband's left. "You're still mad about that?"
"I'm a rebel." Luka said.
"All Mackens are rebels." Revy stated while munching on a piece of bacon. "Enjoy your conformity, normie."
"Also, I bought you that shirt, so you're not that rebellious." Jim pointed out. "You don't have to go to Warwick if you don't want to. You'll just have Sebastian keep tutoring you and we'll just forge you a diploma from somewhere."
"Fine, but if I have to fit in with the family, I should have pierced ears." the younger demon informed, pinching his earlobes.
"Explain your reasoning."
"Revy has pierced ears and Ciel has pierced ears. It's normative, so that means I should be able to do it."
"Sebastian, Finny, and I don't, though. Three out of five is a majority."
"Revy got to pierce his!"
"Then you can ask Revy to take you to get them done." The menace paused. "Actually, no, take Ciel. He'll help you pick out something tasteful."
"Fair enough." Revy answered, raising his glass and taking a drink. He downed the whole thing in one breath and grabbed one more piece of toast. "I'm going to work."
A chime of "bye," "later," and "have fun" sounded from the group as the middle Macken made his exit. Luka, however, remained focused on the matter at hand.
"Ciel, can you take me to go get my ears pierced?" he asked, turning to the bluenette.
Idly, the bluenette set down his teacup and reached across the table for another piece of bread. He didn't look up from his newspaper even once. "As long as Jim says it's alright. It'll have to be when I'm off work, though."
"But you're always working… You literally never stop working… A mission can pop up at literally any time. That's why Revy doesn't have his own place yet."
"Revy doesn't have his own place because the last handyman I hired to fix up that house thought it was acceptable to try and rip me off."
"Ciel… You're a billionaire." Jim reminded.
"I know. I just refuse to be treated like an idiot. It's the principle, not the price."
"Yeah. It's the principle. That's why it's only fair that I get to have my ears pierced like Revy." Luka added.
"Why is it such a big deal that Luka gets his ears pierced?" questioned Finny. "Isn't it fair?"
"Luka is the baby of the family and Jimmy isn't ready for him to grow up." Ciel explained, putting down his paper after the menace gently slapped him on the arm. Still, the blonde sighed.
"I know it's not really a big deal and I know it's only fair. It's not like I don't get that." Jim began, "Realising that Luka's getting older is just a lot to take in."
"Aren't we all, n'est pas?" the bluenette said. "How are your French people?"
"Going home soon. Quincampoix and Devreaux are still here, but Munier packed up and left last night. Dunno what it's about, but she's a bit dodgy. Not a lot we can do about it once she gets home, though." Jim stabbed a sausage on his plate with his fork. "I told you we should've bugged her room."
"Now, now, it's always best to be the one with the cleanest hands, when it comes to international incidents. We don't even know if there's going to be one just yet."
"Are we going to go to war with France?" questioned Luka.
"No. That's extremely unlikely." Ciel reassured. "If something comes up, it won't be a war. Just a pain in the ass, probably." Just as the Watchdog picked up his cup for another sip of his tea, the group turned their heads as they heard footsteps rapidly approaching, banging loudly against the wooden floors.
Revy stood in the doorway, somewhat out of breath. He paused to regain his wind, before loudly declaring: "There's someone trying to climb the fence!"
"Right on schedule." the bluenette stated. "Since we weren't being called to the nonsense, it was only a matter of time until it came to us. Go handle it, will you, Sebastian?"
"Yes, my lord." the eldest of the demons replied, surrendering his duties of tending to the breakfast table in order to go investigate. "Come along, Revy. I'll escort you out."
"Are you really sure about that?" answered the revenant, still following the butler, regardless. "He seems like a serious weirdo..."
The rest of the table simply waited. Ciel rested his elbows on the table, folded his fingers together, and rested with his chin sitting on top of them. Jim, similarly, did not move, and simply waited for whatever was to come to come. It was somewhat awkward for Luka and Finnian, however. They sat in silence as well, staring at their food and slowly continuing to eat. Finnian wondered if he should be helping Sebastian or getting serious as well, while Luka wondered if he should still be there at all.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Sebastian returned, dragging a disheveled-looking man into the dining room. His hair was a mess and there were bags underneath his eyes. The man had a backpack with him, which Sebastian carried in one hand. With his other, he pushed the man further into the dining room.
"I will go check the contents of this outside." the butler informed, holding up the bag.
"Thank you, Sebastian." answered Ciel, prompting the older demon to take his leave. With that, he turned his attention to Luka. "Luka, could you take your plate into another room?"
"'Kay." the youngest of the demons was not going to get in the way of whatever this was. With him gone, Ciel's attention then turned to Finnian.
"Finny, you can stay, if you want, or you can go finish eating with Luka."
"I think I'll do that." the blond replied, standing up and picking up his own plate.
And then there were two—three, if you included the trespasser. With a sigh, Ciel tiredly asked: "Who are you and what do you want? This is private property, sorcerer."
"Y-you can tell?" the man asked.
"I'm a demon. Of course I can. You're French, too… What business do you have with the Phantomhive family?"
There was a long bout of silence as the man tried to speak. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound would come out. He floundered, unable to form any thoughts. The sight of the Watchdog was overwhelming, to say the least.
The man looked exactly like Johnathan, with only a few details here and there out of place. His hair was neater and parted on the left side of his head, he wore earrings and an eyepatch, but the biggest and perhaps most distressing difference was Ciel's demeanor. It was as though the coldness was on the exterior instead of being hidden away, while his general way of being felt more… human. The man was professional, but it seemed as though he didn't have anything to hide. There was a light in his visible eye that Johnathan simply didn't have. He was looking at Damien, not through him. He saw him as a person, not an object. Ultimately, the warlock felt as though he should probably feel more relaxed, but the discrepancy in behaviour unnerved him. That, and he still saw Johnathan, not Ciel.
The Phantomhive was gentle, however, giving him that moment to think. "Why don't you start with your name?"
"U-uh… Damien." That seemed to snap him back to reality a bit. "Damien Chaput. I'm an agent of ORSAP—or, I was, until yesterday, maybe? I don't really know what I'm doing..."
The bluenette shot a glance at his husband. "I'm Earl Ciel Phantomhive, the lord of this estate. I'm also an agent of HELLSING, as is my husband, here, Sir Jim Phantomhive."
"Hello~!" waved the menace with a smile. With his pleasant demeanor, combined with the fact that he was introduced as the Watchdog's husband, he somehow managed to make Damien feel so stunned that he forgot to feel afraid for a moment.
"He's currently acting as head of our Supernatural Relations Department, and has been the one working with ORSAP to help get your system for handling non-violent supernaturals in place." Ciel continued. "So, what has brought you to England—more specifically, to our home?"
"I…" the warlock hesitated. How could he explain that? "It's a long story..."
"Why don't you have a seat, Mister Chaput." the Watchdog suggested, gesturing toward one of the newly unoccupied chairs. "You look like you've had quite a hard time, here."
"Yeah… I spent most of the night transformed into a cat while hopping trains." That was cause for surprise. "I stowed away on the ferry to get here."
"Problems at home?" the menace asked.
"Yes and no… I was told that I would be allowed back as long as I talked to you, but I was almost killed, so I'm not sure what to believe. I'm—I'm sorry… Things are just moving so fast… Let me start from the beginning..."
"I think that would be wise." Ciel stated.
"So, the guy who was in charge of us, Emil Stark, is… kind of a scary guy. No offense, but he looks just like you. Exactly like you, just without the eyepatch and earrings. He's been scaring us for a while, but no one can ever really describe how. He's British, but came to France after helping a mercenary group suppress rebel forces in Namara."
"Ah, the civil war over there, hm? I heard it wrapped up a little while ago."
"How do you know about that?" asked Jim.
"I read the news. Go on, Mister Chaput."
"Exactly. Apparently, he did something to concern Miss Munier, so I was asked to spy on him a little bit and report on what I found. That's when everything went downhill." Mister Chaput explained.
"Got found out, huh?" Jim questioned further. "Not used to going undercover, huh?"
"Not at all! I just graduated college with a chemistry degree. I only joined the organisation so I could learn magic! I don't know anything about this sort of thing! But Miss Munier picked me, so I had to do it." Damien paused and let out a heavy sigh. "Anyway, I started off being a little subtle, but then, I found a goldmine of information and just couldn't help myself… I found a girl who knew him in England working for us. She's young, a werewolf, and her name is 'Brittany?' I have no idea what happened to her after I got found out… Emil apparently brought a bunch of them over from England after some sort of battle, here? She said that they were trying to go for the throne, or something."
"Abhartach's army." Ciel nodded. "Jim is the one who killed their leader. I thought he went to Namara?"
"He did, but he came to France, first. She said that he set them up with a place to stay and then just vanished for a few months. They were supposed to contact him if some guy named 'Caesar' died in hospital. Other than that, nothing. They didn't know what he was doing or where he went. They only found out about the mercenaries and Namara when he came back."
"Caesar disappeared after the battle." Jim reminded, turning his head toward the bluenette. "Think it could be him?"
"It could be. I figured he might have fled the country, but I sort of hoped that we just couldn't find him amoung the dead." replied the bluenette. "It would be a problem if he got away."
"Emil told her he died." Mister Chaput chimed in. "He saw him in the hospital before showing up on their doorstep. I don't know why he needed him, but he came back with a mercenary group and convinced its owner to contract with ORSAP. When I found all of that out, I told Munier, but he sent a vampire agent of ours after me. I'm a 'violent supernatural' to the organisation, now, so I ran away."
"Caesar was an important man in the army of Abhartach. In fact, he's partially responsible for the fact that he had an army to begin with. He possessed cloning technology that made him able to make soldiers, and create supernatural beings that would never exist in nature." the Watchdog replied. "He would have known about it if he was in on that attack, so he might want that tech."
"That could be a problem." Jim stated. "But if Caesar's dead, he might not have gotten it. Then again, he could have killed him, or just be lying..."
"We need to warn the ministers and HELLSING about it, either way."
"That's not all, though..." the warlock reminded, regaining the attention of the two demons. "When I got to the ferry, I was exhausted. I'd been traveling for hours at that point. I collapsed for a little bit, but when I woke up, he was already on board, waiting for me. He said that he knew that I'd probably try to leave. I thought he was going to kill me, but he said that he changed his mind. I'm useful, apparently. He gave me that backpack with some clothes and some money in it and gave me your address. He told me to come here within three days and tell you something. I don't really know what it means, though..."
"What is it?" Ciel questioned, his brow furrowing. He didn't like where this was going. It seemed as though every so often, some clown with a vendetta against him shows up, but ordinarily, he felt that he deserved it, had they first met when he was in a worse place in life. At the battle against Abhartach, however, he couldn't really remember anyone that he particularly wronged, but he knew how petty revenge could be.
"He said: 'Johnathan sends his regards.'" informed Damien. "I don't know who that is, but he said that you would get it."
"Hm..." Ciel had to ponder that for a moment. He believed the man when he talked about Caesar. He didn't doubt that there could possibly be former soldiers in Abhartach's army hiding out in France. The country was close enough that it was possible, especially if someone shady with the knowledge to smuggle them was involved. He didn't know if Caesar was that person, but he knew that Johnathan knew how. His father was an arms dealer, after all. But, there was a glaring problem with that theory: Johnathan Beattie was dead. He was as dead as a demon could be, shot directly in back of the head execution-style with an anti-freak bullet. Pieces of his corpse were frozen in a research department freezer to be studied, as were many of the demons the duo had killed. Johnathan had died that day and there was absolutely no arguing against that.
"What do you think, Ciel?" the menace asked his beau. "Think it's a buddy of his?"
"That's the only explanation I can think of..." the Watchdog stated. "I don't recall if he had any other close allies, though. When I was in his hideout, there was only Caesar with him. That said, it isn't impossible."
"I'm sorry I can't be more helpful..." the warlock meekly stated. "I've never done this before, so I couldn't get a lot of information before getting caught."
The bluenette couldn't help but take a bit of pity on Mister Chaput. While he was clearly a few years older than Jim, he was also clearly not a seasoned resident of the underworld. Damien knew what he was risking—Ciel was sure of that—but the bluenette didn't think that the warlock knew just how quickly things could go bad with a simple misstep. Perhaps he thought that Munier could protect him, given that the mission was from her, but with "Emil" running the show, there was nothing that she could do, especially from the opposite side of the English channel. Now, Damien was stuck in a foreign country with limited funds and a target on his back. It was a miserable position.
"Why don't you take a seat, Mister Chaput?" the bluenette suggested. "Have you eaten, yet?"
"No, I… I haven't been hungry..."
"Grab yourself something to eat from the table. Your mind and body are both fatigued from your escape. Not eating will only make it worse. Try to force something down, if you can." Standing up, Ciel placed his napkin from his lap onto the table. "Jim. A word, please?"
"Right." the menace answered, following the bluenette out of the dining room. Jim looked back over his shoulder briefly, watching as the warlock sat down before placing a hand on his husband's shoulder and leaning in to whisper: "Are you sure it's a good idea to leave him alone?"
"He's too wet behind the ears to try anything. In fact, I doubt that he's even successfully killed a person while on a mission. Something about the way he carries himself."
"And you're going to trust that?"
"Do you think that I shouldn't?"
"No idea. I'm wrong all the time about this sort of thing."
"As if I'm not? I'm more interested in discussing our possibilities, though. If he pulls something, we'll just get rid of him. I do believe that he's exhausted and weak, so if worst comes to worst, it should be an easy fix. For now though… What are our options? We need to contact Integra and tell her what's happening right away."
"What about Johnathan?" asked the menace, crossing his arms. "I think it's a fake."
"He's dead, so I would assume so, but it wouldn't be the first time, however, that I've agitated someone by killing their friend."
"Whoever it is, they apparently look just like you. Could be a demon or maybe even an incubus or succubus, but Caesar is involved, so… He's cloned you before."
"Yes, but it was destroyed." Ciel said, rubbing his chin. "I suppose he could have gotten a hair or something while I was captured."
"I thought you'd be more mad about that."
"I am. I'm furious at the thought." The Watchdog's brow furrowed and he scrunched his nose in disgust. It wasn't his father's remains and his home hadn't been invaded to get his genetic material, so there was some piece of mind from that. His sense of security had not been violated and yet, it still felt like a violation, all the same. "Look, I know that it could just be my noble sensibilities, but..."
"Blood is important, I know." Jim nodded. There was a knowing sincerity to his voice as he completely dropped the bubbly persona he put on in front of their guest. "That's your family legacy involved and not just that, it's you. Your identity's been stolen and it's being worn by some clown who wants to start some shit. Honestly, the implications of that are kinda scary."
"It's not just about politics, either. Certainly, there is the potential for our relationship with other countries to suffer. If he goes around directly impersonating me, it will be a problem, but it doesn't appear as though that is what's happening. There's also the potential for whoever this person is to try and claim that they are a Phantomhive, and I simply cannot have that."
"Nobody is a Phantomhive until you say so, right?"
"Precisely. If he does have my blood, he has my blood, but he will never be a Phantomhive. He has no claim. Luka has a much greater claim than him. I just—I hate that so much..."
"So, what are we going to do about it?" asked the menace. "Because after we tell Integra, she's going to tell the ministers, and then they will probably try to take care of it."
"But they can't?"
"But they can't." Jim nodded. "They're too unstable to fight that kind of fight. Too new. This isn't a simple, shoot him and throw his body in the ditch kind of thing. This shit's political. He has power—power that they gave him by leaving his ass in charge and that he's cultivated until it's become a serious problem for all of us. By the sound of it, he's trying to start some shit with us, too, so England could be dragged into it..."
"Our countries are too close… A war would be catastrophic to both sides. This wouldn't be some squabble between opposing tribes or a bunch of thugs with swords clashing, we have missiles and machine guns."
"Exactly. But since when do our baddies give a fuck about those kinds of details?"
The Watchdog paused to think. He knew that his husband was right. He was absolutely right, and that was a terrifying thought. Reaching out, he gently grabbed the other man's shoulders. "First thing's first, though: we need to talk to Integra. Get her on the phone and tell her what's happening. I'll see if I can get anything else out of our guest."
"Roger that!" Jim pecked his beau on the cheek before the two moved past one another in opposite directions, each with their own respective missions.
Across the channel, however, things were not at all improving. Miss Munier had arrived home, still having failed to inform her compatriots of the problem at hand. She would only do that as a last resort. They didn't need to know if it could be fixed without them. If she could just fix it without them ever knowing, what was the harm? She would maintain her reputation and the crises would be averted. Thus, her first stop was to Honeycutt's flat. If she could convince him to remove Johnathan from his post, the power that the demon had built up would be gone.
ORSAP had contracted the Honeycutt Private Military Company to work for them until they had a proper system in place for funneling regular armed forces into their place. HELLSING bought them outright, but ORSAP wasn't a private army in of itself. It was government owned and operated without any sort of middle-man to stall things. That is why Miss Munier needed to put her foot down as the Minister of Defense and put an end to this demon's shenanigans.
She pounded her fist against the man's door, brows furrowed as she shouted furiously at him. "Mister Honeycutt!" she called out to him in English. "It's Minister Munier! Open this door! It's urgent!"
After a while, she heard the door unlock. She took a step back as she watched the handle turn and the door swing open. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the man on the other side.
"Minister Munier!" smiled Johnathan. "You're back! I trust that your trip was alright?"
"I-it was good." What was he doing here?! Of all of the places, of all of the moments, why here and why now?!
"Please, come in." the man stated, moving to the side and gesturing for her to enter.
Every fiber of Miss Munier's being said not to walk through that door, however. "It's alright. I didn't expect him to have company. I'll come back later."
"It's urgent, though, right? You should talk to him. I promise not to get in your way."
She needed to move. She needed to get away. Her only excuse was gone, now, and she was too overcome with fear to think of a new one. Staring ahead blankly for an inappropriate amount of time, she tried desperately to think of something, but the more time passed, the more urgent it became for her to answer. She knew that if she walked through that door, her life would be in danger. She also knew that he knew that she knew. It was apparent by the smile on his face—that cold, lifeless smile that made him appear as a predator that was merely enjoying the plight of his prey.
"Come on." he said gently. "In you go."
Unable to think about it anymore, she forced herself to step forward as she hoped for the best. She felt a rush of relief when she saw Mister Honeycutt inside, alive and well. He smiled at her, holding out his arms as he greeted her.
"Minister Munier! Hello! How are you? Did you enjoy your trip?" He had the same energy as always whenever she saw him, but one thing seemed off.
"It's good to see you again, Mister Honeycutt." the woman greeted, but she frowned, arching an eyebrow. "Although, forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I didn't know that you could speak French?"
Mister Honeycutt stopped dead in his tracks. He looked to Johnathan, prompting Munier to do the same. The demon, however, rolled his eyes before closing the door. As he did so, Miss Munier immediately rushed it.
"I want to leave." she said, grabbing the doorhandle as Johnathan locked it. She tried to turn it a few times and reached for the lock, but Johnathan just pushed her hands away. "I want to leave."
The demon pushed her away from the door, holding her so that she wouldn't fall as he did so, turning her around and putting a hand on her back to escort her to the diningroom table, mouthing the word "idiot" to "Mister Honeycutt" as he passed by. "Why don't you have a seat, Minister?"
"I said I want to leave."
"You have urgent business with Mister Honeycutt, don't you? You can't leave yet." The demon pulled out one of the chairs and sat her down in it while "Mister Honeycutt" sat down as well. Johnathan, however, sat down on the table's surface, near Miss Munier with a smile. "So, how can we help you?"
"I..." she hesitated, but tried to regain her composure. She took a deep breath and sat up straight, poising herself to continue. "I met Lord Ciel Phantomhive while I was in London." she said. "He's a HELLSING agent and he looks just like you. Problem is, he says he is an only child. Would you care to explain?"
"Really?" he asked incredulously. "No, 'where's Damien?' No 'I know you're not human?' That's what you're starting with. Oh, well… Suits me just fine. I was wondering about Ciel, actually. How is he? Is he doing alright?"
"He's fine. He's working hard with his husband on helping us form a stable system."
"That's it? Does he know I'm here? Does he talk about me?"
"I… I don't think so, no..."
"Shame..." the demon said, leaning his head to the side. "Mister Chaput better hurry up or his parents are going to be in big trouble..."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing. It's none of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself, Minister."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Not at all." Johnathan said, looking the minister right in the eyes as he did. The coolness with which he spoke chilled her and the lack of emotion he showed let her know that he was telling the truth. He most certainly was not threatening. She was already in danger. Abruptly, she turned her head toward Mister Honeycutt.
"Mister Honeycutt, if you refuse to do something about him, I'm afraid that we're going to have to amend our contract." she warned, but the man merely glanced at Johnathan before looking back to her with a shrug.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." he informed. "I don't own the company anymore."
"What?" She stared at him, unblinking. It's like her brain stalled, unable to understand what it was that he was saying. Thus, the man reiterated.
"I sold it." he said. "Mister Stark is the owner, now, so all of the contracts signed through the company are now with him. I'm afraid I can't do anything about it, if you don't like it."
Miss Munier couldn't believe it. She wouldn't! She absolutely refused to believe that this had happened! Yet, that is how things were. The poor woman sat there, her body and mind feeling completely numb as complete hopelessness washed over her.
"I look forward to working with you closely..." Johnathan chimed in with a smirk, causing the woman to nearly jump out of her skin as he grabbed her shoulders from behind. "...Partner."
"No..." Munier shook. "No! It can't- I won't work with you! This is not an enforceable agreement."
"Oh, but it is, Miss, it is. We at Honeycutt have a legally binding contract to work with you for the next four years." the demon replied. "You don't have any options."
"What—No..." She still refused. She shook her head some more, hoping that an idea—any idea at all—would come to mind and help her. When one sliver of one popped into her head, her face lit up, even if it wasn't much.
"Mister Honeycutt!" the woman called out. "What happened to your accent?" she questioned. "Why are you speaking English with a British accent? Why can you speak French? Last I heard from you, you were an American who couldn't speak any French at all! How did that happen?!" Furrowing her brow, she glared at the man.
"You're not really Mister Honeycutt, are you?" she asked accusingly. "I saw back in London, when we went to Gehenna, that there exists ways for a person to change their appearance. If you aren't Honeycutt, then the sale is void!"
The imposter looked to Johnathan for guidance, unsure as to how to proceed. The demon simply rolled his eyes and waved his hand at him. "Drop the schtick, Caesar. We don't need it anymore."
With this order, Miss Munier's eyes opened wide as she watched Mister Honeycutt changed. His hair turned brown, his goatee vanished, and his skin turned purple. A pair of bumps sprouted from his forehead, turning into horns as his stature shrunk and his ears became pointed. With a grunt, he reached behind him, pulling down his pants just a tad so that a tail could grow.
The new incubus let out a sigh, relieved to no longer have to put in the work to keep that shape. "Finally… You have no idea how hard that is to keep up..." Caesar replied, stretching his arms over his head. "I feel so stiff..."
"But… But..." the woman floundered, recalling the name. "You're Caesar? But Damien—Damien said he was dead!"
"He did die. I just put his soul inside of an incubus I had laying around." Johnathan said. "Nothing too difficult to manage. Getting rid of Honeycutt, though… That was the problem. I just through his body into the catacombs… The freaks took care of it."
"Impostor!" the woman declared. "He is an impostor! That means that the contract is-"
"Perfectly valid." the demon stated. "After all, 'Mister Honeycutt' sold me the company, as you recall. So what if he's a fake? Try claiming that in a court of law. I'm sure it will go swimmingly." Standing up again, Johnathan walked around his prey's chair.
"Starting today, I am the one who has the control of the majority of your anti-freak forces and I suggest that you cooperate, or else I may also become a very real threat to your well-being, Minister Munier." he continued. "All I want is for you to look the other way. Maybe lend a helping hand on occasion, but for the most part, I just need you to sit there and tell everyone that everything is alright."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then into the catacombs you go." Johnathan said bluntly, holding the woman's shoulders. "I'll just have Caesar, over there, stand in for you. It'll be less convenient, of course, but it can be done."
The air in the room grew cold as Johnathan spoke. It chilled Munier to the bone, making her blood run cold. Yet, her heart still beat, as evident by the pulsating sound in her ears as she stared straight ahead in silent horror. Her initial judgment was correct. She should have never walked through that door. She should have never allowed herself to be here alone. She should have told someone—anyone, where she was. She should have told her fellow ministers about the problem instead of trying to solve it on her own to preserve her image. Now, all of her efforts were completely for naught as she found herself in the clutches of a demon. Her career was such a small price to pay for the preservation of her own life and soul. It was nothing in comparison. It was worth less than nothing.
"Just nod if you understand." Johnathan said. Slowly, the woman did as she was instructed to, still unable to look him in the face. "Glad to hear it. I trust that we can count on your cooperation in the future. Nod if you agree."
Without any other choice, Munier nodded again, knowing that she had sealed her fate. It was either allow her country's resources to be accessed by a madman, or her own skin. Once again, she shamefully chose herself. Truly, she was disgusted at what she had done, but in that moment, she knew that there was nothing more she could do if she was dead.
"Good." the demon grinned. "Let's flesh out the terms and conditions, then..."
A/N: I am terrified that I'm escalating things to the point where I can't fix them lmao. Can we stop him? Let's find out together, because what the fuck?
I don't have much else to say but what the fuck? What have I done? Hopefully something not stupid. There is suspense happening for all of us lmao
I don't have much else to say... I'll let you guys do the talking because honestly, a lot has just happened and I need to figure out where I'm gonna go from here.
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
