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The next few days, Soren just camped out at the office.
He spent his ti waiting for Nico to finish the new weapon and experinting with fresh ways to use his demonic power.
When he wasn't busy, he half-assed replies to Patty's endless texts.
The girl called to say she was heading back to the orphanage where she grew up next week. She'd always made a point of donating and helping out the place that raised her.
She also gave him a stern warning: he'd ghosted her the entire last weekend. This ti he'd better clear his schedule and go with her like a good boy.
Soren agreed on the phone, then imdiately shot Morrison a ssage asking him to keep an eye out for any fat-paying jobs.
Early that morning, Soren was sprawled on the couch, trying to shape a small lavender knife out of pure demonic energy.
The blade flickered, unstable. A few seconds later it dissolved into thin air.
"Not enough power," he muttered.
This was his latest attempt, inspired by the Phantom Swords—
Forcing demonic energy outside his body and shaping it directly into weapons.
Turned out he'd been a little too ambitious.
Just keeping the energy stable outside his body was already a pain. Giving it real hardness, sharpness, and making sure it could actually cut sothing without falling apart? That was a whole different beast.
Right now the best he could manage was a fancy little knife that lasted maybe three seconds.
Knock knock knock.
Soone rapped on the office door.
Soren opened it to find a woman in a sharp suit standing there, radiating pure no-nonsense cop energy.
"Angela Dawson," she said, flashing her badge and scanning both Soren and the ssy office behind him. "I hear your little agency has a one-hundred-percent success rate."
The na hit Soren like a truck. He imdiately rembered the plot and tested the waters.
"Your sister… Isabel?"
Angela's eyes narrowed instantly. "You've been looking into ?"
"Actually, Constantine told ."
Soren shrugged, throwing the exorcist under the bus without a second thought.
The fact that this woman had co to him probably ant she'd already struck out with Constantine.
Which also ant Mammon's descent was getting close.
"You know that piece of shit?" Angela spat.
"Ma'am, if you're here about your sister's death, I can give you the answer right now." Soren leaned against the doorfra, voice flat. "She killed herself."
Angela's sister Isabel had been born with the Sight—eyes that could see ghosts and demons.
That made her the perfect vessel for Mammon, the Son of Satan.
To stop him, Isabel had thrown herself off the roof of a ntal hospital in pure despair.
"Bullshit!" Angela exploded. "She was a devout Catholic! Suicide is unforgivable in our faith!"
In Catholic doctrine, suicide was a mortal sin that sent your soul straight to Hell. No funeral, no rcy.
Angela gave a bitter laugh. "So this perfect success rate of yours… you just turn down any case that actually matters?"
"Reverse psychology doesn't work on , lady."
Soren shrugged, completely unbothered by the jab.
He was internally groaning. Why the hell didn't you just keep bothering Constantine?
To make the stubborn detective back off, he tossed out an insane number.
"If you want on this case, it's ten million dollars. Cash up front, no exceptions."
"Done."
Angela stared him dead in the eye and agreed instantly.
A colleague at the precinct had quietly recomnded this place. The guy had closed more cases than anyone else, and a huge chunk of his success ca from this office.
Plus, her cop instincts were screaming.
The kid had known her sister's na on sight and admitted he knew Constantine—the biggest scumbag in the business.
This wasn't so two-bit scam operation.
Throwing out that ridiculous price wasn't greed. It was a test to see if she'd flinch.
And that told her everything she needed to know: this man had real answers. He could reach into the world most people never saw.
"?"
Soren actually looked surprised by how fast she agreed.
He gave the suited woman a slow once-over. "Last I checked, you're just a regular detective. Where are you getting that kind of money?"
"Isabel and I both own property. With her gone, I can sell everything. It'll cover it."
Angela's voice was rock-steady.
Soren stared at her and went quiet.
He'd just realized sothing he'd overlooked before.
In the original story, after losing Isabel as a vessel, Mammon had turned his eyes on her twin sister—Angela, who had the exact sa psychic bloodline. He planned to use her body to be born.
Only Constantine's last-second suicide ritual had dragged Satan himself into the mix and ruined everything.
Soren's original plan had been simple: let Mammon descend, then kill the weakened demon lord for massive system points and pri materials.
But if Mammon succeeded… the woman standing in front of him would die.
The sa woman who was supposed to survive in the original story would end up as a corpse because Soren wanted the rewards and decided to ddle.
His brows drew together. A rare flicker of hesitation crossed his face.
He could ignore deaths that were already written in stone.
He could walk past tragedies that had nothing to do with him.
But he couldn't actively cause an innocent person to die just so he could farm points.
Soren glanced at the quest reward floating in his mind.
[Main Quest Node: The Demon Prince's Ambition]
[Objective: Stop Mammon's descent ritual]
[Reward: 10,000 points, Bloodline Awakening 5%, Mammon's Original Sin Soul ×1]
Just stopping the ritual gave insane rewards.
Killing Mammon outright would be even bigger—maybe enough to push him over the edge into true Devil Trigger.
That kind of power would finally let him stand on his own in this world.
"Even if I take the case, your sister really did commit suicide," Soren warned quietly. "You'd be throwing your money away."
"And if you keep digging… you'll die."
"I still want the truth."
Angela didn't flinch.
Seeing that stubborn, brick-wall determination in her eyes, Soren lowered his gaze and stopped trying to talk her out of it.
Ten million dollars had literally walked in and begged him to take it. No reason to turn that down.
As for his plan to kill Mammon… he wasn't dropping that either. Those rewards were his.
"Fine. Co with ."
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