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Back at the office, Soren lay sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
He had already released Grace and dumped her back inside the mansion.
The girl's once snow-white wedding dress was now filthy, the long train torn into a tight mini-skirt, and her ntal state had clearly hit rock bottom.
There wasn't a drop of blood on her, though. Soren had no idea what kind of creative "ga" Alessa had arranged to entertain her inside the Otherworld.
He typed "Haddonfield" into the search bar.
Since Belial had specifically ntioned the place, he needed to confirm whether the legendary "Uncle Mike" from his previous life actually existed in this world.
The page loaded instantly. A string of news headlines popped up.
"Haddonfield Serial Massacre: Masked Killer Strikes Again?"
"Smith's Grove Sanitarium High-Risk Patient Escapes, Police Launch Full Search"
"Indiscriminate Slaughter Triggers Community Panic"
Soren's eyes narrowed. As expected, Uncle Mike existed here too.
Michael Myers—the psycho locked away in a ntal hospital since age six after brutally murdering his older sister.
He always wore a white mask, killed without uttering a single word, and no matter how severe the injury, he simply refused to die.
According to Belial, Uncle Mike was another demon that had smuggled itself into the human world.
It had just used so special thod to slip past the Angelic Council's inspection.
As for the exact details—what exactly had been done to him—Soren would have to see for himself when the ti ca.
After confirming the target, he casually sent Constantine a greeting text.
Learning the old chain-smoker still had to stay bedridden in the hospital for a while longer, Soren felt completely at ease.
There was still plenty of ti. This long trip would be the perfect chance to properly sort out the bloodline awakening issue.
He set his phone down, planning to rest properly over the weekend.
Tomorrow was the weekend, and Patty had already warned him days ago—he had better clear his schedule to accompany her back to the orphanage.
She had grown up there and had always kept up the habit of donating and helping out.
If he stood her up again, Soren figured his phone would explode from nonstop death-calls.
...
The next day.
Soren was sleeping like the dead on the sofa when a faint trace of perfu drifted over.
He opened his eyes instinctively. A pair of blue pupils t his gaze.
"You sleep like a dead pig! I called you dozens of tis and you didn't pick up once!"
Seeing him awake, Patty stood up, hands on her hips. "Also, why was the office door replaced? Do you know how long I stood outside?!"
"I thought you'd co back last night."
Soren sat up from the sofa, rubbing his temples. "How'd you get in, then?"
"I noticed the door wasn't even locked later." Patty lifted her chin, looking proud.
Soren: "..."
You seem pretty proud of that.
Patty quickly pulled an apron from her bag and tied it on, tucking her hair into a cleaning cap.
"I went out with new friends last night. It was too far from the office, so I just went back to my apartnt."
"I'm not like certain people who only know how to stay ho and rot when they have free ti."
Patty ran a finger across the coffee table and frowned at the dust. "Haven't you cleaned at all this entire week?!"
Soren stretched lazily. Seeing her fully ard for battle and questioning him with gunpowder in her voice, he quickly changed the subject.
"New friends? Not another carload of those deadbeats from last ti, right?"
A pair of yellow cleaning gloves smacked him square in the chest.
"Shut up."
Patty rolled her eyes at him. "This ti it's different. Her na is Carrie. She just transferred to our school. Very quiet, even a little shy."
Hearing that na, Soren's hand paused while straightening his clothes.
Carrie?
A shy transfer student?
That na and background made it impossible not to think of a certain telekinetic witch.
He probed casually, "Sounds interesting. Let's hang out soti so I can et her."
Patty eyed him suspiciously, leaning on the mop. "Forget it. Carrie barely dares to raise her voice when talking to people. With your look, you'd scare her to death."
She pointed toward the bathroom. "Hurry up and wash. Throw out all these takeout boxes."
"We still have to help at the orphanage this afternoon."
...
At noon, after a simple lunch, the two drove toward the suburban orphanage.
"What about tomorrow? Any plans?"
Soren leaned back in the driver's seat, arms crossed behind his head. Two faint-purple demonic ghost hands dutifully gripped the steering wheel for him.
"Aren't you afraid of getting points deducted like that?" Patty watched the ghost hands curiously.
She continued, "Tomorrow you can just mold on the sofa by yourself. I already made plans with Carrie to watch the new cody that just ca out, Scary Movie."
"Points deducted? I never even took the driving test—what points?"
Soren shrugged indifferently. Strangely enough, no police had ever co looking for him about it.
Patty looked utterly speechless and stopped paying him any attention, lowering her head to sort through the gifts for the children.
The car smoothly entered a sparsely populated suburban highway.
They had been driving for quite a while and were still so distance from the destination.
Soren was just about to complain about why the orphanage had to be built so far out in the sticks when his eyes suddenly sharpened.
The ghost hands spun the wheel sharply and slamd the brakes.
Several strange black figures stood motionless in the middle of the road ahead, completely blocking the way.
They were oddly shaped monsters.
Burly bodies with half their chests replaced by roaring engines, heads fitted with high-speed spinning propeller blades—one even had a buzzing chainsaw where its head should be.
Wires of various colors ran across their bodies, tubes exposed on the outside. The stench of motor oil mixed with rot assaulted their noses.
"What the hell are these things?!"
Patty instinctively reached for the gun in her bag.
"Stay in the car and don't move."
Soren pushed open the door and stepped out, scanning the surroundings.
"Alessa, take her inside for a bit."
A cloud of black mist appeared out of thin air, swallowing Patty in the passenger seat—gifts and all—and pulling her into the Otherworld.
Soren cracked his neck and loosened his shoulders, looking at the monsters in front of him. Their designs felt very familiar.
Before he could make a move, the one with propeller blades on its head let out a roar. Exhaust pipes on its back spewed black smoke as it charged straight at Soren like a suicide truck.
Soren sidestepped.
Bang!
The monster slamd into the car. The vehicle was instantly smashed into scrap tal, completely totaled.
"Tch, feels like I'm destined to have no luck with vehicles in this life."
He sighed at the wreckage scattered across the road.
Soren studied the monsters—their bodies forcibly fused with technology and flesh. He could even sll a chaotic demonic aura on them.
This kind of reckless fusion of tech and at reminded him of the organization behind the man-eater and Yutun research.
These things looked exactly like their handiwork.
Had he destroyed too many of their plans and finally pushed them to act?
"Sending this pile of scrap tal to die?"
Soren sneered coldly. The lightning sword appeared in his hand.
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