Chapter 116: Taking Action
Frank realized that the person possessed by the demon was someone he recognized—a servant named Mike, whom he'd seen frequently entering various rooms, blending in without drawing attention.
Frank hadn't suspected that the demon resided within him. Thinking back, it seemed the sacrifices weren't chosen by the butler but by the demon itself, as if selecting dishes from a menu.
"His name was Mike, I think," Frank recalled.
Having identified the possessed individual, Frank actively avoided the demon.
Frank had no intention of confronting it. He was no experienced demon hunter, just an ordinary person facing a legendary demon.
Despite the knowledge he'd gained from John about demons, Frank was too frightened to act.
It was like facing a man-eating beast on the prowl while you hid, armed with a gun capable of killing it. But without the expertise of a seasoned hunter, who would dare fire? Most would pray for the beast to leave without noticing them.
Moreover, missing the shot could expose one's location, and merely wounding the beast might provoke its wrath—a disastrous outcome.
Frank was in such a state, unwilling to provoke the demon.
He had a two-day window before the demon claimed its next sacrifice.
This meant Frank had two days of safety left. If he could escape the driver's watch like today and get the protective charm tattooed, he might elude the demon—assuming he could leave the grounds.
John had also promised to contact demon hunters in New York to rescue him.
"Mr. Frank, after yesterday's events, I advise against going out. You should rest for a while," the butler said the next day when Frank requested to go out, predictably denying his request.
Even as Frank insisted, the butler wouldn't relent.
"Damn it!" Frank cursed internally.
Feeling uneasy, Frank drank more, noticing the butler whispering to Mike, the possessed servant. His heart sank.
Drinking, Frank watched them from the corner of his eye, seeing Mike occasionally glance his way with an appraising look, like a butcher assessing fresh meat.
The unmasked gaze made Frank's skin crawl.
"Damn it! Damn it!" he panicked internally.
Frank was certain he was the demon's next target.
"Just one day left—tomorrow night will be my end!" Frank thought, distraught in his room.
Unable to leave and escape the heavily guarded estate, and with the demon's mark on him, he couldn't rely on John's promised help that hadn't materialized yet.
Realizing he'd have to rely on himself, Frank decided he couldn't sit idly by.
"Damn it, let's do this!" Frank resolved, spitting angrily. He wasn't one to await death passively.
Once resolved, Frank acted swiftly.
From under his mattress, he retrieved a pouch, spreading its contents—resembling dirt—along the room's edges.
Holding a bottle of holy water in one hand and a paper with demon-banishing incantations in the other, he recited the words with utmost concentration, more diligently than a multiplication table.
"Please send Mike to my room," Frank requested over the phone, once preparations were complete.
Exhaling deeply, Frank set the phone down.
"Mr. Frank, you needed me?" Mike, the possessed servant, entered, curious about Frank's summons.
"Close the door," Frank instructed.
"Alright," the demon replied, shutting the door.
As soon as Mike turned, Frank splashed holy water on his face.
"Ahh!" the demon screamed in agony, the holy water burning like acid, emitting smoke and leaving severe burns.
"It works!" Frank exclaimed, eyes wide, clutching the bottle of holy water.
"Damn it, holy water!" the demon's eyes glowed red in anger.
"Damn it! Damn it!" Frank's adrenaline surged as he doused the demon with the remaining holy water.
"I'll kill you!" the demon roared, shielding its face, enraged.
Attempting to reach Frank, the demon paused, confused when nothing happened.
Stepping forward, the demon suddenly collided with an invisible barrier, visible energy crackling in the air, knocking it to the ground.
"This is!" the demon's expression shifted, shredding the carpet to reveal a hexagram surrounded by incantations—a trap sealing the demon's powers.
Frank had printed the design on wallpaper material, hidden beneath the carpet.
"Who are you?" the demon demanded, its red eyes on Frank. Holy water and a demon trap weren't common knowledge.
"I'm the one sending you back to hell!" Frank retorted, brandishing the paper and chanting the banishing spell.
"I won't go back!" the demon shrieked, whistling sharply.
In the hallway, Frank heard the sound of running beasts, claws scraping the floor.
'Bang!' The door shook under immense force, but the billionaire's home was solidly built, the door holding firm.
As the pounding continued, claw marks appeared on the door, though nothing was visible—a transparent beast seemingly trying to break in.
"Hellhounds," Frank gulped nervously.
Rushing to the door, Frank evaded the demon's grasp, hurling more holy water, eliciting tormented cries.
Holy water not only harmed but suppressed the demon, much like sea stone against a Devil Fruit user.