"Oh no! There’s sothing dirty!"
While Fisher thought it was because he had used the power of the Soul Completion Manual, which resulted in corresponding illusions, Emhardt, in his arms, already sensed sothing, trembling and squeezing out of his embrace, flying towards the back of the shipyard.
The darkness around instantly turned dense and sticky, but for so reason, the fearso atmosphere made Fisher feel unexpectedly familiar.
He looked at Lilim beside him and found that her face, which should have been horrifying and grotesque, had completely changed into an exquisite face hidden in the darkness, smiling radiantly.
The surroundings of the once damp and cold abandoned shipyard appeared to be enveloped in Hell’s flas, covered by an endless ocean of Chaos before his eyes, only to be swallowed by the dark tide, with Helair’s shadow faintly visible amidst the scene.
He couldn’t distinguish whether this was an illusion or reality, nor could he tell if the Demon before him was just an illusion or a disguise of Lilim by Helair...
In the darkness, Fisher couldn’t see her figure or neck, and even her exquisite face was only vaguely outlined.
But at that mont, he could only murmur in disbelief,
"Hel...air?"
"You’re being naughty, dear."
Helair’s smile beca deeper as she replied in the darkness, whispering softly, and said,
"If you want to see , just tell directly; why ask others... as long as you say it, I’ll listen. That Little Guy should have told you that."
"Ahhhhh, Fisher! Run! That damned Paimon!! She’s here!!"
Behind him, Emhardt dashed around the shipyard like a headless fly, desperately searching for an escape route.
But in his panic, he was completely confused, unable to find the way out.
Though Helair didn’t glance in Emhardt’s direction, Fisher felt sothing rush out of the darkness beside him, moving swiftly towards Emhardt’s direction.
It seed like a slap.
"Smack!"
"Ouch!"
After the invisible slap, Emhardt’s screams and the sound of falling and rolling on the ground echoed from within the shipyard.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The venue fell quiet once more, and Helair glanced back smilingly at Emhardt before returning her gaze to Fisher, who was staring at her intently.
Fisher also looked at her and, after a mont of silence, still asked,
"Helair, what is the ga you ntioned?"
"You already know, dear."
Helair drew closer to Fisher, lightly kissing the corner of his lips, bringing a lody that was as dream-like as a fantasy.
"You an... Doomsday Prophecy?"
"Is it really?"
Fisher frowned slightly, seemingly displeased with her ambiguous stance. Moving forward, he firmly grasped her chin, causing her cheeks to blush, raising her head a bit,
"Ya..."
"Helair, what are you? What do you want to do?"
Seeing her feigning coquettishness with a radiant expression, Fisher knew she was teasing him.
But her lightheartedness did not dispel Fisher’s intrigue; instead, it made him more curious about the secrets she kept hidden in the dark,
"Why were you able to trigger the Seal on my waist at that ti? That Seal contains the power of the True God, why could you do it so easily?
Back then, beneath the Ideal Country, what really happened between you, Pandora, and Remiel? Does it have anything to do with the birth of the Demon, and why did you release them, what for..."
Fisher bit by bit pressed closer to Helair, his increasingly aggressive attitude seemingly not derived from himself, as for so reason, whispers began to fill his ears again, eroding his rationality.
Helair’s lovely face appeared to form slight ripples under his grasp, her expression turning pitiful in an instant as she looked up at Fisher, pleading tenderly,
"It hurts..."
Fisher paused, his hand stiffening at her continued shaky voice,
"What’s wrong with you... You are frightening now..."
"I..."
Fisher suddenly glanced at his overly extended hand, taking a deep breath in realization of his loss of control,
"Sorry..."
Just as he intended to retract his hand and stop his excessive questioning with an apologetic intent, piercing pain surged from his fingertips the next instant,
"Hiss..."
He looked down to see her mischievous mouth had moved off his finger holding her chin, leaving behind a conspicuous bite mark with blood, like a coquetry or retaliation reminding Fisher.
"You..."
Just as Fisher began to say sothing, Helair seed to predict his move and gently took the bitten finger into her mouth, tenderly licking away the mysterious wound, making it vanish as if it had never existed.
Indeed, only in front of Helair does Fisher feel everything he does is anticipated and her reactions always leave him unable to respond, preventing him from rebuking her occasional audacity.
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