The Earl hated all Exorcists, on principle if nothing else. They were violently opposed to his cause, and he to theirs. It was natural. But he had a special place in his black little heart for Allen Walker. That boy was the One Who Got Away.
He should have died when he turned his father into an Akuma. But no; the wretched child had to be an Accommodator! He had escaped that day, but the Earl had largely written him off anyway; street brats didn't survive long on their own.
But the next time the Earl met the boy, he was a fully-trained Exorcist. The damned brat had the insane luck to be found by the Black Order's Cross Marian. Still, the sheer number of Akuma the Earl had called down on him should have done the job. Should have. That was the second time Allen Walker should have died.
The third time, the Earl had been absolutely certain of the cursed brat's imminent demise. Thanks to his association with Cross, Allen's name had been on Ticky's delete list. That alone should have been guarantor enough. Exorcist or not, the Earl didn't think Allen had it in him to kill a fellow human being. Third time being the charm, it should have worked.
Somehow, Allen had managed to not only survive, but even his Innocence had remained undestroyed. Utter failure. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. Because that made three times that Allen Walker should have died. And the Earl was growing very, very angry at his gall.
He dreamed of killing Allen Walker sometimes. Of standing over his corpse, or better yet, the dust of his remains, left from the Akuma virus, after his Innocence was destroyed, and could no longer spare him. It was a fond dream, one that he would one day make true. Nobody's luck could last forever, after all, and even cats only had nine lives.