Grim Encounter

With a snap of his finger, Smith effortlessly dispersed the peculiar atmosphere, seamlessly merging their table with the ambient noise of other customers.

As the surroundings normalized, Smith savored a long sip of hot chocolate before addressing Sopatra. "Regarding the Demon Queen, I suspect the Goddess transported her randomly, perhaps out of spite. Her Signature is temporarily concealed, so you may not locate her even if you use [Mana Sense] on the entire city. It's a risk, especially considering the attention it could attract from supernaturals, particularly the SCD—"

"SCD?"

"The Special Cases Department, the government agency responsible for maintaining order in the Underside. Their efforts shield ordinary people from supernaturals; power can be quite intoxicating," Smith explained, receiving a nod of agreement from Sopatra.

Continuing, he said, "As for the Demon Queen, I believe she has a way to find you. The only thing I'm worried about is if she encounters supernaturals."

Of course, they both knew he wasn't worried for her safety but for the potential repercussions attracting the SCD's attention.

"Any more questions?"

"None, thank you for the information."

Smith chuckled and casually produced a slightly crumpled business card labeled "Smith Deliveries."

"If you need anything, here's my contact."

Sopatra studied it briefly, placing it in his breast pocket. Downing the remainder of his coffee, he picked up his briefcase, bowed slightly in gratitude, and as he turned to depart, Smith handed him a gold card.

"The password is 0123. There's about 5 million dollars in there. Consider it a token of appreciation from me."

Sopatra took the card immediately, saying, "Thank you very much."

Smith was stunned with his empty hand outstretched; he just took it like that, without hesitation? Wasn't it normal to at least refuse a little and feign some hesitance?

Looking at his awkward face, Sopatra asked, "Did you change your mind? You want it back?"

"N-no, I just—"

"That's better, Smith. After all, this is compensation for the trauma you caused me."

Smith finally chuckled, easing his expression. "I thought you said you don't resent me?"

And he met Sopatra's unimpressed gaze. "You believed that? So you wouldn't resent someone who smashed you to bits with a truck?"

Smith sighed helplessly. "Hey, who made you such a boring person? We could have used another method. If you played games or at least read web novels, you'd even get a heads up in addition to a painless summoning."

Of course, an indifferent Sopatra pocketed the card and picked up his briefcase.

"Goodbye, Smith. It was really 'nice' meeting you."

With a dry laugh, Smith bid him goodbye, unable to even tell him that his gratitude was, in fact, not empty words, as his return to Earth allowed Smith to replenish his Mana through the opened Pathway to Elysia.

After all, he had always preferred Mana to Spiritual Energy.

---

Seraphina opened her eyes, regaining consciousness in a dimly lit alley, sandwiched between towering skyscrapers. The structures, vast and impressive, rivaled, if not surpassed, the spires of Elysia.

Intimidated by the grandeur of these structures, she briefly pondered the power of the race capable of constructing such imposing buildings. However, the Demon Queen within her quickly adapted, reminding her of the strength she wielded.

Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths. Dampness, the scent of trash, and a distant metallic tang filled the air. Her sensitive nose dug deeper, and amidst the myriad of olfactory information, she singled out the familiar scent of the Hero wafting from the North.

Without much distance to cover, she decided to forgo flight, opting instead to walk. This choice served a dual purpose: maintaining a low profile until the Hero introduced her to this new reality, and also satisfying a little of her curiosity through exploration.

The night's deep embrace veiled the cityscape in shadows, affording Seraphina a degree of anonymity. As she traversed the darkened city, her unique appearance – bloodstained armor and dragon-like horns – raised no inquiries.

The district, bathed in darkness, kept her concealed, and the occasional passerby scarcely raised an eyebrow.

As she strolled, Seraphina couldn't help but observe that the inhabitants seemed exclusively human, and notably weak at that. No Mana Cores in sight. Was this district reserved for commoners, or was there something more to the composition of this particular population?

On her way, the muted surroundings revealed an alley where distant protests pricked her ears.

"N-no! Please, I beg you... Hic! Anything b-but that!"

There, she witnessed a woman's futile struggle against a man. Tears streamed down her face, clothes torn. The man, with a perverse smile, slobbered over her neck.

"Hehehe, you were the one who seduced me, now you're refusing? Don't worry, you'll enjoy it with time."

Blinded by his wickedness, the man failed to notice Seraphina's silent approach. Meeting the despair-filled eyes of the woman, Seraphina understood the silent plea: Go! Run!

Though a stranger to Earth, the language of despair was universal. In daylight, her frosty expression might terrify, but now, under the cover of night, it was her silent wrath that spoke.

For Seraphina, who had witnessed countless atrocities, this scene rekindled the rage she harbored against such cruelty. When she ascended the Demon Queen's throne, she banned such acts in her army, but the harsh reality persisted.

The Demonkin were very stubborn individuals, and on several occasions she had to execute her own soldiers, which caused waves of dissatisfaction among her subordinates. Of course they later buckled in the face of her might and ruthlessness.

Suppressing her violent urges, she lowered her strength to the minimum, kicking the man aside.

Kneeling beside the woman, she attempted to convey solace, even through the language barrier, when she noticed that instead of relief, she had sunk further into despair, muttering weakly.

"Y-you shouldn't have annoyed him."

Unfamiliar with English, Seraphina couldn't comprehend her words. About to lift the woman, she sensed a particular energy nearby.

The man, already on his feet, gathered a stream of ambient, blue energy in his hands, forming a sleek glowing blade.

She was bewildered at first, because she had clearly assessed him and saw no signs of a Mana Core, in the first place, the energy before her clearly wasn't Mana.

In the dimly lit alley, the man's malicious grin contorted his face as he lunged toward Seraphina. His misconception about her dazed look fueled his aggression. "Fucking savior wannabe, you should have just stuck to your cosplay!"

Unfazed, Seraphina, momentarily dazed, faced his attack. To his astonishment, his energy blade shattered on impact, revealing the authenticity of her armor. He stepped back in trepidation, reassessing her.

And that was when he finally noticed the distinct, pungent scent of dried blood emanating from her, coupled with her ghostly aura and her horns, he felt like he stood before Death itself.

With an ingratiating smile, he stammered, "P-please, I think we have a misunderstanding here. I was just with my girlfriend."

Even with the language barrier, his body language was clear, further fueling her disgust. She hated cowards who were strong only to the weak.

As she approached, he backed away, his arms raised in a feeble attempt to convey innocence. She reached him swiftly, seizing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground.

In the eerie glow of her green, slit eyes, he trembled like prey before a predator. The pressure was overwhelming, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Despite scrutinizing him, she found no Mana Core or Artifact.

Still perplexed, she gave a resigned sigh, then turned to the woman who was still looking at her in shock, not expecting this turn of events. "I think you should close your eyes, you don't wanna see what happens next."

What she received was a confused gaze, and then she remembered she wasn't in Elysia, and no one used the Common Tongue here.

The language barrier forced her to communicate through gestures, and the woman, though confused, complied, putting her hand over her eyes.

But in a moment of burning curiosity, she decided to look through the slits between her fingers, and saw a scene that would scar her for years to come.

With a swift motion, Seraphina severed the man's head.

The lifeless body crumpled, and she held the head, a wry smile playing on her lips. "This never gets old."

In a macabre display, she opened her unnaturally large mouth and devoured the head, the cracking and crushing sounds echoing in the dark alley.