Sadie stared in disbelief.
At first, when Gideon exposed the boy's lies, she had double-checked several tis with her Dark Vision.
But no matter how she looked, she hadn't sensed any "malice."
And yet—the boy clearly had a physical body.
It wasn't until Gideon called him by na that Sadie finally realized the truth: this "boy" was in fact an evil spirit.
Even so, she was puzzled.
The child looked so young, yet Giselle was already an old woman. The age gap between the two seed far too great.
Sadie had assud Giselle's son would at least be a grown man.
---
anwhile, upon hearing this human threaten his mother, Simo dropped the act entirely.
His body began to wither. Smooth skin shriveled into wrinkles in the blink of an eye, until he looked like nothing more than a dried corpse.
"You should never have co so close," Simo said coldly, lifting his right hand.
The fallen leaves on the ground began to tremble.
He was indeed a spirit—but not one who had fallen willingly. He had been forced into this wretched state.
---
Forty-five years ago, Giselle had moved with her newborn son Simo to a factory town nearby.
Back then she was still young, beautiful, and full of life.
To raise her child, she worked as a laundress.
But being a single, attractive young mother quickly made her the subject of gossip.
The n, full of lust, fantasized about her body, imagining how it would feel to pin her down.
The won whispered behind her back, branding her with venomous nas like "whore" and "slut."
And Simo, by extension, bore the sa scorn.
From the ti he could understand words, the children at school mocked him through cruel jests about his mother.
He had fought back more than once.
But every fight only brought more trouble to Giselle.
Watching his mother bow her head in apology, Simo clenched his fists in helpless rage.
It was then he vowed to study hard, to one day take his mother far away from that cursed place.
It should have been the start of an inspiring story.
But fate twisted it into tragedy.
One evening, a fellow laundress ca to Simo with urgent news—his mother had been injured in the forest.
Terrified, Simo followed the woman deep into the woods.
But when he turned to ask where his mother was, the woman was gone.
Simo had been lured into the depths.
Night fell. Strange sounds slithered through the darkness.
Just as despair consud him, he saw the lights of a small town.
But that "town" marked the beginning of his nightmare.
For there, he t the real monsters.
During that ti, Giselle herself had entered the forest searching for him.
To protect her, Simo struck a deal with the creatures.
From that day on, his body was tornted, his soul bound eternally to the forest—slowly transforming into an evil spirit.
Yet with that curse ca power.
And with that power, Simo hunted down every beast in human skin who had lured him into the woods and spat filth upon his mother's na.
Now, lifting his head once more, Simo's eyes burned with grim resolve.
Tonight, he would protect his mother again.
The fallen leaves rose into the air, then twisted mid-flight—launching like sharpened blades straight toward Gideon.
But in the next instant, Simo's eyes went wide.
He realized, to his horror, that the leaves no longer obeyed his command.
Impossible.
He was a spirit steeped in rancor, a being of festering resentnt. Other than the monsters of that cursed town, nothing in this forest should have been able to harm him.
Refusing to believe it, he thrust forward a clawed hand, reaching for the foot that pinned him down.
But the mont his ghostly fingers brushed it, his flesh hissed and seared. In the blink of an eye, half his hand had lted away.
"..."
Agony rippled through his very soul. His expression twisted into a mask of tornt.
"You… who are you… really?" he rasped, struggling to speak.
The human before him radiated the sa dread he had once felt when he first faced the monsters of the town.
Gideon's reply was calm, almost casual:
"Luen Clauso. Bastard son of a bishop. Noble of the Misso Cathedral. Beloved parish priest of the common folk. And, of course, an exorcist."
Sadie touched her nose, half amused, half exasperated. Back at Hank's house she had already learned Gideon's true na. To hear him now fabricate such a pompous title with a straight face—it was a little hard to get used to.
Once he had shifted the fear onto that alias, Gideon spoke again, his tone unhurried:
"Now… can we talk?"
Simo's fists clenched. For a long mont he resisted, then—as in the past—he gave in.
"…Ask."
Gideon raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the spirit to break so quickly. He had thought he'd need to apply more pressure.
And so, through tense questioning, Gideon and Sadie ca to learn the truth of Simo's existence.
---
Years ago, Simo had struck a bargain with the monsters of Ambrose.
Every so often, he was forced to lure young n and won into the cursed town.
If he failed, his mother's life would be forfeit.
As Gideon had suspected, Simo was indeed the hidden "guardian" behind Giselle.
Through the power of his spirit, he had kept other creatures of the forest at bay, ensuring none could harm his mother.
At tis he hunted animals for her.
Often he appeared at the forest's edge, whispering to passing travelers, coaxing them into leaving food at Giselle's doorstep. In this way he shielded her from his own corrupt aura.
Usually, he let the humans go unhard.
But when the pact demanded it—when the monsters called for their offering—he delivered them into Ambrose.
---
When Sadie heard all this, her brow furrowed.
What a contradictory spirit, she thought. A son who sacrificed strangers to protect his mother. A monster, and yet pitiable.
She did feel sympathy for their plight—but his willingness to deceive innocents repelled her.
Gideon felt much the sa.
Still, he told Simo the truth: they had just shared tea with Giselle. They had no intention of harming her.
"Truly?" Simo's eyes narrowed in doubt.
"I swear it in the na of the Lord," Gideon said, face solemn with mock piety.
Simo's eye twitched. Just monts ago this "priest" had radiated such arrogance that Simo had taken him for a demon.
What kind of church could raise a man like this?
---
"Have you seen this person in the forest recently?"
Gideon drew out his phone, showing Simo a photo of Sasha.
Recognition flickered instantly in the spirit's eyes.
Gideon caught it at once.
"If you're looking for that girl," Simo said grimly, "you'd best abandon the thought."
"Oh?" Gideon arched a brow. "And why is that?"
"A few days ago, she entered the forest."
Simo's tone carried both mory and regret.
"She didn't head toward my mother's hut, and since no sacrifice was required at the ti, I didn't reveal myself. But I heard her muttering—sothing about coming here to perform an exorcism."
He shook his head.
"Unfortunately, she encountered the monsters of the town. They captured her."
---
"How many?" Gideon pressed. "What are their abilities?"
In his mory, the horrors of the Wax Museum hadn't seed overly formidable.
Simo gave him a long look, as if asuring the depth of his resolve. Was this man truly intent on stepping into Ambrose?
At last, he sighed and answered:
"Over the years, I've learned a few things…"
He spoke of two brothers who ruled the town's nightmares, obsessed with turning humans into living wax figures.
For reasons unknown, every one of those figures was missing its arms.
"The elder, Vincent," Simo explained, "possesses monstrous physical strength. The younger, Bo, was disfigured as a child. He weaves illusions that gnaw at the human mind. Even I am helpless against him."
Fear flickered in his eyes at the mory.
Then he looked directly at Gideon once more.
"My advice? Think carefully. Unless you're a high-ranked exorcist of the Church, ard with relics centuries old—or unless your will is unbreakably strong—you will not leave that town alive."
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