It was an indescribable feeling, as if you could clearly sense some terrifying monster had just left this place, the remaining madness and sinister bones gnawing at everyone's nerves.

Pres stood frozen at first, then his stomach began to churn. He found it hard to suppress the feeling, bending over in painful dry heaves, his face distorted as if something was clawing at his insides, trying to crawl out of his body.

Lorenzo helped him up and escorted him outside the door, then strode back inside, his expression grave.

The entire room was covered in vivid red blood, as if it had experienced a storm, with all the furniture in disarray, blood splattered everywhere. It was hard to imagine all this blood came from one victim, and it didn't resemble the splatters from a slashing wound.

Lorenzo stepped over the blood and walked further into the house. The white sheets were completely stained red, a twisted corpse lying in a shallow pool of blood, the body ripped open from throat to abdomen, ribs broken, all the organs hollowed out, a gruesome death.

The victim's features were unrecognizable, the eye sockets sunken, the eyes shattered into a mass of blood, mouth agape as if she had been screaming in pain until her last moment.

"Can you see anything?"

Pres approached from behind, his face pale. As an experienced detective, his earlier discomfort seemed very unprofessional.

"A thorough torture killing, not for money, just for the sake of infliction."

Lorenzo glanced around the room, crimson blood everywhere.

"The killer deliberately used the blood to stain everything, look at the bedsheet."

Lorenzo pointed to the woman's hands. She clutched the bedsheet tightly, and as Lorenzo tried to pry her fingers open, he found her nails embedded in the flesh, indicating immense pain she must have endured.

"She was tortured to death, not killed and then arranged to look tortured. She endured agony, clutching the sheets, pleading until death."

Even Lorenzo felt some discomfort now, unsure what the killer was thinking while doing these things.

Everything was so silent, the ticking of the clock unusually loud, but the sound began to slow, gradually coming to a halt, along with the concept of time. Immediately, all light vanished, leaving only Lorenzo and the blood-red room in endless darkness.

"How tragic."

A woman stood before the deceased body, gently caressing the shivering flesh, letting out a light chuckle.

"So Lorenzo, you really look like a proper detective, you've even changed your name to Holmes."

Lorenzo's face was steely. He felt an unprecedented sense of dread, trying to invoke the Secret Blood, but it was silent.

"It seems my connection with the darkness has deepened, even without consuming herbs I can have a Spiritual Vision."

Lorenzo regretted not having the Nail Sword by his side; he never expected to see the woman again under these circumstances.

"No, to be precise, the bonds have shown cracks, so wide that I can easily crawl out to breathe some fresh air."

The woman smiled, stepping through the blood around Lorenzo, her stained hand softly caressing his cheek.

"No need to be so afraid of me, Lorenzo. Fundamentally, we have a subtle symbiotic relationship, don't we? I need you to maintain my existence, and you need me to escape the Static Holy Temple's connection. We're actually on the same side."

Lorenzo stared stiffly at her, eyes filled with hatred and more complex emotions.

"You're not her; you're just something living in her shell."

"Is that really so? Could it be that I've always been her, and everything before was just my disguise?"

Without waiting for Lorenzo to answer, the woman laughed, sitting on the bed, examining the brutally dead woman.

"You don't understand, and neither do I. If everything had a standard answer, it wouldn't be him who died, would it?"

The one who should have died was you, Lorenzo. Even if you changed your name, so what? This was his ideal, not yours. If this is your repentance, then it's too cheap."

Lorenzo remained silent, this was the darkest part of his heart, an unspeakable secret.

Seeing Lorenzo's weakness, the woman laughed, mocking.

"You are always like this, Lorenzo. I can't understand why he let you live, clearly his survival held more value."

She whispered, her eyes filled with reflections of thoughts.

"Holmes... he told me this was the name he received during the Divine Favor Baptism. This ritual in your Order is so mysterious, so mysterious that merely going through a void dream you gain the power to resist erosion.

He said it was the name of a detective he heard in his dream, with an assistant named Watson. He always told me if he retired, he would open a detective agency..."

The woman's face suddenly showed a trace of sadness, hard to believe such a murderer could feel sorrow, like feeling pity for a serial killer.

"What exactly do you want to do?"

Lorenzo asked through gritted teeth.

His emotions towards the woman were so complex that sometimes even Lorenzo himself felt confused, unsure if everything he did was right. It all stemmed from that sinful night, the Night of the Holy Arrival that burned away all glory and truth.

Lorenzo thought he could forget it all, but evidently, this was just his evasion. They have always been behind him, never leaving.

"Nothing, just want to make a deal with you."

The woman finally revealed her purpose, sinister forces filling every corner of space.

"I said before, I don't make deals with devils."

Lorenzo outright rejected, knowing the woman would always attempt to entice him. But Lorenzo was no longer his old self; he could maintain his reason in the face of temptation.

"Why? I've never deceived you, showing everything real right before your eyes."

"But isn't it these small truths, one after another, that doom us forever?"

Lorenzo shouted harshly.

Silence, only ancient silence remained here, in this moment where time stood still for so long, yet seemingly happened just now. The woman became expressionless, speaking softly.

"Then how about we take a step back, no deals, just mutual help."

"Do you think I would trust you again?"

"How about I exchange information for your trust?"

The woman wore a sly smile. In that instant, a cold sensation swept over Lorenzo. He looked at the woman; it was another temptation, but this time without any cost to get it. Yet, Lorenzo knew she never made a losing deal, and a great price was hidden behind this.

"Dean Lawrence is not dead, that so-called Holy Coffin was acquired by him."

The woman stated directly. She knew Lorenzo too well, even aware of the dangers behind this, he would still risk everything.

This news hit him like a sledgehammer. Lorenzo's eyes were bloodshot, incredulously looking at the woman, breathing heavily for a long time as if to suppress a raging fury. After a long while, he slowly spoke, with deep apprehension in his eyes.

"Did you also cause the Pope's fall with this trick?"

"He was just a greedy little man, much easier to handle than you."

The woman shook her head and said casually.

"Everyone desires different things, but the hardest to satisfy are idealists like you. You do not seek things or events, you greedily wish to change a world, making a will everlasting."

The woman stood up, placing her hand on Lorenzo's shoulder, whispering in his ear.

"And what you once desired... wasn't it also me?"

Her voice carried enchantment and desire, the hazy atmosphere bewitching the world, yet it was mercilessly cut by the cold sword.

Lorenzo's eyes were cold, he responded.

"No longer."

"Haha, is that one of your changes too? Well, is this token of trust acceptable, as Dean Lawrence is also one of the culprits. He should be responsible for the deaths of the Demon Hunters, and he took the Holy Coffin. You wouldn't stop your hunt, would you?"

Seeing the once timid boy who secretly peeked at her had grown, the woman was unsure if she was mocking or pleased.

"So, do we have a preliminary cooperation, my partner?"

She extended her hand, looking at the pale palm. After a while, Lorenzo reluctantly nodded. This was a reality, but he also knew it would eventually lead to wrong results. Such is the terror of the Devil; they never deceive you, yet you never get a good outcome.

But as the woman said, Lorenzo should have died long ago. His survival was just an accident, living in extra life, and he certainly didn't mind returning this life that didn't belong to him.

Some people must pay the price for their mistakes, no matter who, and Lorenzo didn't care what he would have to pay.

The Devil succeeded once more. She smiled and said.

"John Watson."

"What do you mean."

"This is what he said. In the dream of the Divine Favor Baptism, that great detective had a partner named John Watson."

"But that's a man's name."

"Then do I even count as human? I have many names, Devil, Witch, Demon, and so on. You dare not speak my true name, so is it necessary to discuss whose name it is?"

As she spoke, she began to change, her form and face, from a child to an old man, familiar faces of Selyu, Eve, and Pres flashed across that blank face, finally settling on her original appearance, smiling at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo didn't speak, just reached out and tightly grasped her hand.

...

"What is the murderer's motive?"

Pres looked out the window, trying hard not to meet the gaze of things inside this room, though he wanted to think about the case, his thoughts completely captured by the grotesque scene, making it hard to think.

"Revenge, just revenge, venting one's anger on the body of this woman."

Suddenly, a voice sounded. Pres looked at Lorenzo, seeing the great detective with a pale face, panting heavily, cold sweat streaming down his skin, as if he just revived from drowning, seemingly about to faint the next second.

"How...how did you deduce that."

Pres seemed surprised by Lorenzo's strong reaction to this scene. It seemed this urban legend, no matter how mysterious, he was just a mortal after all.

"It's simple, it's written on the wall."

Lorenzo pointed to the words on the wall beside the bed. Following Lorenzo's gesture, Pres saw the words etched in blood, the nightmarish scene shocked everyone, making them avoid facing this twisted horror, and thus missing the obvious mark.

"Revenge..."

Lorenzo softly repeated the bloody words on the wall, feeling as if destiny had played a role.

"Alright, let's get to work."

On the pale face, he managed to pull out a slight smile, trying to appear more cheerful.

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