City of Witches Chapter 389

“Then you should go in and see for yourself.”

“Yes, Duke. Good night.”

Eloa let out a short sigh after seeing Sharon off.

She would occasionally come to Eloa with alcohol.

As Sharon was someone who had listened to Eloa’s circumstances, felt sorry for her, and empathized, she had taken it upon herself to be a continuous conversation partner and communication channel.

She was a good witch who suited Siwoo well.

Sharon did not assert any possessive desire over Siwoo.

Just today, when the drinking atmosphere had mellowed, hadn’t she suggested it?

To honestly reveal and discuss all the truth with Siwoo.

Eloa calmly refused.

He was the disciple Eloa held in her heart instead of Raphi.

She could be satisfied just by watching him train happily and live well as he did now.

“Just a coward….”

But she knew.

Eloa’s body, and her true feelings.

She remembers him and misses him.

Every night, Siwoo’s image comes to mind, and she tosses and turns, falling asleep dreaming of the moment she was held in his embrace.

The excuse that she was satisfied just by staying by his side was merely a lie that didn’t violate Eloa’s high moral standards.

Eloa, standing by the window where moonlight shattered, changed into the pajamas Siwoo had bought for her and let down her hair.

Her long, rose-pink hair cascaded luxuriantly, flowing over her clothes.

Was it because of the alcohol? A slightly indiscreet mind and loosened reason.

Through that gap, memories flowed.

The memory of his hands roughly grabbing Eloa’s waist and the rough breaths heard right behind her ear surfaced.

“…Siwoo….”

Eloa gritted her teeth and shook off the delusion.

It seemed she wouldn’t be able to avoid a cold shower today either.

As Eloa was about to move her steps toward the bathroom, her gaze caught on an envelope.

At that moment, the intoxication and distracting thoughts clouding Eloa vanished as if the alcohol had evaporated in an instant.

“…….”

The Contract Sword, now somehow in her hand.

The envelope placed conspicuously on the desk.

This hadn’t been here until just before meeting Sharon.

And no one had entered or left this room while she was having drinks with her.

“I contract.”

A rose-pink glint floated in Eloa’s eyes.

A gaze that pierced through delusion and falsehood meticulously scanned the surroundings.

No suspicious individuals.

This was Gehenna, and among it, the Gemarnai Mansion, known for its high security.

How many people could possibly deceive the attention of Sharon, a Great Witch of the 20th hierarchy, and Eloa of the 23rd hierarchy, and pull off something like this?

Without letting her guard down for an inch, Eloa quietly opened the envelope, which had no magical measures taken on it.

What came out were three photographs.

“This is….”

Eloa’s pupils narrowed in shock.

Dilapidated buildings lined up densely like cardboard boxes, and neon signboards densely draped between them.

A single witch captured amidst a bustling crowd, each holding food in their hands.

Short hair cut just above the shoulders.

Cursed ruby-like red eyes.

The public enemy Eloah Tiferet had vowed to burn her life for revenge.

Ea Sadalmelik.

All seemed to be photos taken of her secretly.

Hurriedly checking the back of the photos, a location and time were written.

The date was just yesterday, the location: the Sleepless City of Kowloon, Hong Kong.

Mong Kok, traversed by Nathan Road.

“…….”

Eloa was surprised to realize she was calmer than she thought.

In the past, she would have rushed to the location written on the back of these photos without a moment’s reconsideration.

Because a fierce hatred to burn everything would have seized her.

But now, she was considering the situation before and after a bit more calmly.

Photos of Ea placed on Eloa’s desk, having pierced through strict magical security.

If it were an anonymous tip with good intentions, such a cumbersome method wouldn’t be necessary.

That meant the one who delivered these photos was a witch who couldn’t follow formal procedures.

It was very likely a trap.

“Siwoo.”

Eloa, who had been staring piercingly at the photos, suddenly thought of Siwoo.

If Siwoo were here, he would have stopped Eloa.

If her beloved disciple Shin Siwoo had advised her to ignore this provocation and exercise caution, would she have listened straightforwardly?

The thought suddenly occurred to her.

But that was only momentary.

His face blurred as anger, pouring in like a torrent, surged belatedly.

She had little interest in whether it was a trap or not.

If there was a witch trying to play games by touching her reverse scale, she would simply cut them down and purge them.

Even if it was a trap, she could just crush it entirely.

Eloa’s body shot toward the Portal.

After recovering from her wounds with Clara’s help.

Amelia and Clara’s relationship grew closer.

But no matter how close two people are, there are matters that can no longer be glossed over.

“Clara.”

“Yes!”

“Why… are you blocking me like this?”

“Huh? Blocking what?”

Amelia asked Clara, who was diligently arranging dishes on the table.

“You… are trying to hold me back, aren’t you?”

The relentless hunting schedule led to a magic power deficiency.

Amelia deactivated her Autonomous Defense and barely recovered by receiving refined magic power from Clara.

Since that incident, Clara had been bringing Amelia to her workshop, presenting various new dishes all day long.

At first, Amelia thought it was just Clara’s intention to let her rest.

But it was excessive.

As if trying to prevent Amelia from remembering the Death Ledger.

She had been bombarding her with culinary assaults for days.

To the point where Amelia, who initially appreciated Clara’s kindness, began to feel a sense of incongruity.

“…That wasn’t my intention. It’s just that you haven’t rested enough yet.”

“I’ve rested enough. My magic power is almost recovered too.”

“…….”

“….Do you know the next target?”

What Amelia considered here was the possibility that Clara and Bianca Bellili, the public enemy listed on the next Death Ledger, were acquaintances.

“That can’t be.”

Clara shook her head vigorously, strongly denying it.

It was such a relief.

If Clara, who was practically Amelia’s benefactor, had an acquaintance who was the next hunting target…

Just imagining how the situation could have gotten tangled was horrifying.

“But…. The Witch of Desire is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Amelia, this time, you might be the one who gets hurt. So I want you to rest for as long as possible….”

Amelia sensed concern and consideration in Clara’s words.

For Clara, who respected and understood Amelia’s will, the culinary parade over the past few days was her own metaphorical attempt at dissuasion.

That was quite touching.

“Thank you.”

“…What’s there to thank? We’re just helping each other get by….”

The meal ended without further conversation.Clara and Amelia had each finished washing up and preparing for bed.

Being able to catch their breath and rest like this was all thanks to Clara's natural consideration.

Once Clara fell asleep, softly snoring, Amelia quietly rose from the bed.

"......"

"Hmmnya..."

Amelia, who had been shattering alone without knowing her limits.

It was all thanks to Clara, who had become her physical and mental support by her side.

Though she wanted to stay with her a little longer, thinking of her feelings, the tasks given to her were not yet finished.

At least until she saw the end of this Death Ledger, she had no face to go see Siwoo.

And if she just leaned on Clara, she would feel burdened too.

She had already received enough kindness.

"Thank you."

Amelia gently stroked Clara's head and placed a bottle of Fragrance she had made for her on the bed.

Now it was time to steel her resolve again.

Amelia put on the Cloak, a keepsake from her Master, and stepped out into the night.

"Is this the life of a successful entrepreneur?"

In the Royal Suite of the 5-star Periwinkle Seoul hotel.

Though not the Presidential Suite, it was a luxurious room that even a decent monthly salary couldn't dream of, where Takasho was drinking wine while enjoying the night view as a side dish.

Kibele Periwinkle, whom he met through Shin Siwoo's introduction, had kept her promise.

Not only did she save the Host Bar, which was on the verge of ruin, with consulting that oozed expertise, but she also introduced him to distribution channels for importing high-end liquor.

Takasho, granted a two-week stay in the Mortal Realm, traveled the world accompanied by smugglers from the Count Adonai family.

The liquor to be supplied to Rose Glass couldn't be items generally available.

Therefore, not only did he sign direct supply contracts with famous overseas distilleries, but he was also introduced to and hired three well-established auction agents in this field.

With high-end liquor already in short supply and sales being limited, this contract would be like setting sail with a favorable wind, raising the business to a new level.

While it was clear he leveraged Periwinkle's connections and basked in the prestige of Count Adonai, the fact that he successfully closed these contracts was due to his own skillful promotion of his sales performance.

"How can one not raise a toast to celebrate?"

Though it was a bit disappointing that there was no one to share a drink with, nor a woman in bed to celebrate with...

Takasho couldn't hide his pleased smile.

When he worked as a slave at the Academy, he couldn't even imagine coming to the Mortal Realm, let alone staying in such a hotel.

When you thought about it, this was all thanks to Siwoo.

"Ha... How on earth can I repay this favor, Siwoo?"

Thinking that if Siwoo were here, he would sincerely and wholeheartedly... well, you know.

Takasho grew drunk on the wine and on the night view of his friend's hometown.

"For the remaining day, I should go shopping and buy a gift for Ms. Sharon."

It was getting late.

As he set down his glass and headed toward the bed to sleep, an unexpected figure greeted him.

"Hello?"

A Witch.

Wavy, sandy-blonde hair as lush as curtains.

Jade-colored pupils that shone brightly, reflecting the night view even in the darkness.

Takasho immediately realized who she was.

He had been living off the Witch's scraps for six years.

If that flawless appearance didn't belong to a Witch, that in itself would be strange.

Normally, Takasho was prepared to respond politely no matter how flustered he was, even if a Witch he'd never met was standing boldly in his hotel room.

But he couldn't even swallow his saliva.

He couldn't even manage the small action of blinking his eyes.

Because from that Witch, who looked exactly like a French doll, he sensed a stickiness he had never felt before.

Just her presence in this room made the air feel as if it had turned into sarin gas, ringing alarm bells in his mind.

Seeing Takasho frozen and unable to move, the Witch giggled.

"You have good senses?"

The Witch, who had been sitting on the bed, slid off and stood up, introducing herself.

"I'm a good fairy who fulfills people's desires. I'm Bianca Berilly."

In the darkness, her jade-colored pupils flashed like a beacon.

"I've come to take you."