Dawn crept over the horizon, its pale light bleeding across the ocean. The waves rolled smooth and steady, almost too perfect for the eye, reflecting the silver glow of the twin moons still lingering in the sky. Their light reached the broken piers of the Port of Lagoon, where an abandoned factory loomed like a forgotten tomb. Its rusted beams and shattered windows groaned under the weight of the sea breeze.
Inside, the air was thick with damp salt and faint traces of rust and ash. The dim light overhead sputtered on and off, casting weak halos across the cavernous interior. Lenny stepped inside, his boots crunching against shards of glass scattered across the floor. Behind him trailed Yuta, a smile painted on her lips as if this entire venture were nothing more than a casual stroll.
Lenny's voice echoed into the hollow dark.
"Hey, we're here already! Show yourselves, will ya?"
Silence followed for a heartbeat too long. Then shadows shifted. Figures stepped forward, one after another, until a dozen men stood in their path. At their center, a tall figure emerged. He removed his glasses slowly, revealing eyes black as tar—depthless, hungry, and undeniably demonic.
"Took you long enough," the demon sneered, his words dripping with malice. "Me and my boys were losing our patience. So… did your boss finally change his tune?"
Lenny swallowed hard, the sound catching in his throat. The chill of the room pressed against his skin, though Yuta strolled leisurely behind him, utterly unfazed. He forced himself a step forward, steadying his tone.
"Look… the boss just wants a simple agreement. We all want the same thing, yeah? Easy money, no bloodshed. You hand us the goods, you get paid. Everyone walks out satisfied. So why don't we—"
The demon cut him off with a sharp snap of his fingers. From the shadows, two young women were dragged forward. Their wrists were bound, their faces hidden beneath rough cloth, but the muffled cries spilling from behind their gags were all too human. The demon's grin widened.
"Do you know how hard it is," he hissed, "to keep fresh little humans like these from being torn apart by my boys? Keeping them intact is an art form. And souls—oh, human souls are the finest delicacy we demons could ask for." He leaned closer, his breath foul. "Your boss owes ours more than a handful of artifacts. He owes us meals."
The word artifacts made Lenny's heart jolt. His eyes widened before he could stop himself, but Yuta was already stepping forward, her heels clicking lightly against the factory floor. She crouched before the girls, brushing their hair back with an almost motherly touch.
"Such crude appetites," she said softly, her voice a velvet contrast to the growl of the demon. "Yes, your kind holds sway over the black market. But ours?" Her smile curved, sharp and knowing. "Ours owns the pleasures of this world. Fighting among ourselves is nothing more than children bickering over a swing in the park."
The captives whimpered through their gags. Yuta leaned close, her hand gently patting their heads.
"There, there, little ones… it will be over soon."
The demon growled, irritation flashing in his midnight eyes. He strode forward, his clawed hand reaching toward Yuta, intent on ripping her arm from the captives. But before he could close the distance, steel caught the light.
Lenny had moved—his sword pressed firmly against the demon's throat. The blade glimmered faintly in the flickering light as his knuckles tightened. Behind them, the demon's men shifted, their own weapons raised, snarls and hisses filling the air.
The demon lifted a single hand, halting his underlings. His grin returned, slow and venomous.
"Calm down, boys." His voice carried like a poisoned lullaby. His gaze fixed on Yuta, dripping with mockery. "Alright, slut… perhaps you have a point. But tell me—what happens if, by chance, you and your knight here end up dead on this very floor? Wouldn't that be quite the twist?"
The air thickened, chilling with tension. The demon's men laughed, their cruel voices echoing through the cavernous space. Lenny felt his throat tighten as sweat gathered at his brow, but Yuta only exhaled, a long, elegant sigh, as though none of this concerned her in the slightest.
The demon chuckled darkly.
"So… what's it going to be? Yuta? No…" His grin widened, cruel delight flashing across his face. "That's not right, is it? Your real name—Yuna."
The name hung in the air like a dagger, and the factory seemed to grow even darker.