Night quietly descended over Academy City Eden.
The abandoned warehouse still stood on the wasteland at the city’s edge, surrounded by overgrown weeds.
The dilapidated walls cast deep shadows in the darkness.
The distant city lights were bright, but this place seemed like a forgotten corner of the world, with only the occasional chirping of insects breaking the silence.
By the time Luna, transformed into the Goddess Angel Artemis, arrived at the warehouse entrance, the sky was completely dark.
She hovered half a meter above the ground, six Floating Turrets orbiting her like loyal satellites.
The pink halo above her head emitted a soft glow, particularly conspicuous in the night.
Her pale golden eyes scanned her surroundings with vigilance—the crumbling walls, piles of junk, and…
Deep inside the warehouse, the familiar bonfire.
Orange-red flames danced in the darkness, illuminating a small area with a warm, bright light.
Bathed in the firelight, the familiar figure sat on that same old chair—a black trench coat, a white mask, the vivid red “V” on the mask flowing slowly in the firelight, emitting an ominous glow.
Only this time, it wasn’t skewers of meat on the grill before him, but a small pot.
Something was simmering inside, steam rising.
A rich, savory aroma drifted out with the steam, mingling with the smoky scent of burning wood, filling the abandoned warehouse.
It was the smell of fish soup.
Luna frowned slightly.
What is this guy… up to now?
The pink-haired girl slowly descended to the ground, retracting her halo. However, the six Floating Turrets remained on standby, floating by her side.
She stepped into the warehouse, her boots making soft tap-tap sounds on the concrete floor.
Hell remained seated in his chair, his back to Luna, as if unaware of her arrival.
Only when her footsteps drew near did he slightly tilt his head, yet still not look at her.
His flat voice came from behind the mask, as if he were merely greeting an ordinary visitor.
“You’re here?”
Luna ignored his casual attitude.
She walked straight up to him, stopping on the other side of the bonfire, her pale golden eyes fixed directly on that expressionless white mask.
She didn’t waste words.
“Why did you call me here?”
Straight to the point, no beating around the bush.
Hell still didn’t look up. He held a long-handled ladle, slowly stirring the contents of the pot.
The milky-white fish soup shimmered enticingly in the firelight.
Several pieces of snow-white fish flesh tumbled in the broth, accompanied by bright green scallions and a few slices of ginger, making the aroma even richer.
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked one of his own.
“Have you eaten?”
Luna was taken aback.
The question was so ordinary, so out of place in this bizarre scene.
“I have.”
She nodded instinctively.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Luna regretted it.
Why did I answer his question so obediently?
She was here for a meeting, not to chat.
This kind of mundane, everyday conversation made her feel like she was being led by the nose.
So, the girl frowned, her tone turning even colder.
“What is this about? Spit it out. If you don’t, I’m leaving.”
With that, she made as if to turn around.
“It’s not time yet.”
Hell finally raised his head. The red “V” on his mask flowed slowly in the firelight, as if gazing at Luna.
He showed no emotional reaction to her threat. He simply raised his wrist, glanced at the black watch, and replied calmly.
“The time hasn’t come yet.”
Then, he lowered his head again, continuing to stir the fish soup, his tone as casual as if speaking to a waiting customer.
“Since you’ve eaten, just wait over there.”
Luna stood rooted to the spot, staring at his unhurried demeanor, momentarily at a loss for words. She felt her fists clench.
What on earth is this guy playing at?
He asked to meet at eight. She arrived on time, and now he says “it’s not time yet”?
What is she supposed to wait for? For the soup to finish cooking?
Luna took a deep breath, trying to suppress the irritation rising in her chest. But she didn’t actually leave.
Because she knew this V—everything he did had a purpose.
If he wanted her to wait, there must be a reason.
So, the pink-haired girl stood there, watching Hell’s unhurried manner, a knot of frustration tightening in her chest with nowhere to vent.
Helpless, she walked over to the old chair she’d sat in before, dragged it over, and sat down beside the bonfire.
The chair still creaked and groaned as if it might fall apart any second.
Luna sat on it, her back ramrod straight, her pale golden eyes fixed intently on the white-masked man opposite her, her gaze filled with wariness and vigilance.
Hell seemed oblivious to her scorching stare.
He remained focused on his task—using the long-handled ladle to scoop the finished fish soup, spoonful by spoonful, into a white porcelain bowl beside him.
The milky-white broth flowed from the ladle into the bowl, steaming hot, the rich aroma spreading even more wantonly.
After filling one bowl, Hell set the ladle down.
Then, he raised a hand and pressed lightly on the side of his mask.
A soft click sounded.
The lower half of the mask—from below the nose to the chin—slowly slid open to the sides, revealing a patch of pale skin and a mouth with well-defined lines.
Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly.
This was the first time she’d seen any part of this guy’s true face—even if only a portion.
He looked… genuinely young.
The shape of his lips was quite nice—not too thick, not too thin, their color somewhat pale, matching his fair complexion.
The line of his jaw was sharp and clean. One could imagine the face beneath the mask was likely quite handsome.
But at this moment, Luna had no mind to appreciate such things.
She simply watched his every move with heightened alertness.
Hell picked up the bowl of fish soup, brought it to his lips, and blew on it gently.
The steam spread before his face, blurring the contours above his mask.
Then, he lowered his head and took a careful sip.
“Haa…”
He let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
Then, he turned his head and looked at Luna sitting beside him.
Those eyes, hidden behind the mask but now seeming to pierce through everything, appeared to be looking at her.
“It’s quite good. Would you like a bowl?”
Luna looked at him, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile devoid of any warmth.
Hah.
How could she possibly be in the mood for soup right now?
Moreover, after everything that had happened—from their first meeting in this abandoned warehouse, to the standoff at the Clock Tower, to the “Hell is being targeted” act this afternoon—she held no goodwill whatsoever toward the person before her.
Any action from the other side could be part of a scheme.
She was on guard; how could she casually eat something he offered?
Who knew if there was something in the soup? Who knew if this was just another part of some “Experiment”?
“No need for your concern.”
The girl’s voice was as cold as a winter gale.
Hell glanced at her but didn’t press further. He merely shook his head, a hint of regret in his tone.
“A pity.”
Then, he turned back and continued drinking his soup by himself.
Sip after sip, spoonful after spoonful.
He drank slowly, with focus, as if it were just an ordinary bowl of fish soup, and the Goddess Angel sitting there, tense and on high alert, simply didn’t exist.
Luna sat beside him, watching his behavior, feeling nothing but speechlessness.
What is wrong with this guy? Did he call me here just to watch him drink soup?
The girl couldn’t help but glance at her watch—8:15 PM.
She’d arrived on time. Nearly twenty minutes had passed.
For those twenty minutes, she’d just sat there, watching this villain drink soup, listening to his occasional comments like “seems a bit light on salt,” then watching him add a tiny bit more salt to the pot, stir, and continue drinking.
Luna’s frown deepened.
Why is it that I can’t understand a single thing this guy does?
What does he actually want?
Why did he ask me to come, only to say nothing and just make me wait?
Is this his “Experiment”? Testing my patience? Or is there some deeper purpose?
The more Luna thought, the more confused and frustrated she became.
But she didn’t move.
She just sat there, watching the bonfire, watching the fish soup, watching the man who continued drinking his soup without any rush.
Time passed silently, second by second.
Finally, Hell finished the last sip of soup. He set the bowl down, picked up a napkin that had been prepared who-knows-when, and elegantly wiped his mouth.
Then, he raised his hand and pressed the side of his mask again.
Click.
The lower half of the mask slid shut, returning to the complete, expressionless, pure white mask.
Only the vivid red “V” flowed slowly in the firelight. Then, he stood up, the hem of his black trench coat cutting a sharp arc in the firelight.
“The time is about right.”
Hell’s voice came from behind the mask, still that flat, unreadable tone.
“We should get going.”
Luna practically jumped to her feet on reflex, her body instantly shifting into a guarded stance.
The six Floating Turrets silently materialized by her side, hovering in mid-air.
“Where to?”
The girl’s voice held wariness, along with a trace of barely suppressed tension.
Hell didn’t turn around.
He simply began walking toward the dilapidated small door deep within the warehouse, his pace unhurried.
“You’ll know when you follow me.”
Luna remained where she was, watching Hell walk toward the dilapidated door deep in the warehouse, but her feet didn’t immediately follow.
In that moment, she hesitated.
Even though she had resolved to enter the game, to actively approach this guy, gather information, and uncover his true identity—when faced with the actual situation, that inevitable unease still washed over her like a tide.
Where are we going? What are we doing? What will happen?
She knew nothing.
This unknown was more frightening than any clear threat.
Hell walked a few steps, seemingly sensing she wasn’t following. He stopped and slightly turned his head.
“Scared?”
His voice came from ahead, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible trace of mockery.
“Didn’t you say… you were willing to do anything?”
Those words were like needles, precisely piercing Luna’s heart.
The pink-haired girl gritted her teeth. The hesitation and unease in her pale golden eyes were replaced by a stubborn resolve.
“Wh-who’s scared!”
She quickly walked forward, coming to Hell’s side, straightening her back.
“Just lead the way!”
Hell glanced at her. The expression beneath the mask was unknowable, but Luna could sense he was smiling.
A smile that made her very uncomfortable.
“Then you’ll have to keep up with my speed.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, his figure blurred.
The black silhouette, like a bird merging with the night, instantly leaped onto the roof of a derelict building outside the warehouse.
Luna didn’t hesitate.
At her mental command, pink light-wings unfurled behind her, and the six Floating Turrets once again orbited her form.
Then, she pushed off with her feet, her body soaring into the air, closely following the black figure.
In the night, two figures sped across the city’s rooftops.
Hell led the way, his movements light and swift.
Every jump, every landing, was as precise as if calculated countless times. His black trench coat flapped behind him, merging with the darkness.
Luna followed closely, her light-wings tracing faint pink trails in the night sky.
Her speed was greater than Hell’s—after all, she was a Goddess Angel capable of flight, while Hell was merely leaping between ground and rooftops.
But she didn’t overtake him.
The pink-haired girl simply followed behind him, maintaining a distance neither too close nor too far.
She remained vigilant, observing her surroundings while silently memorizing the route they took.
Passing through a derelict industrial zone, leaping over several quiet streets, skirting around a few low buildings—
Finally, they reached the city’s outskirts.
Before them stood a factory of considerable size.
The factory grounds were brightly lit.
Several tall chimneys emitted faint plumes of smoke.
The rumble of machinery was faintly audible in the night.
High walls surrounded the compound, topped with barbed wire.
At regular intervals stood guard posts, each with armed guards patrolling.
It looked like just an ordinary factory working through the night.
Hell stopped in the shadows outside one of the walls, crouching down and hiding behind a low wall.
Luna landed beside him, retracting her light-wings and crouching in the shadows.
She leaned forward slightly, peering at the brightly lit factory, her pale golden eyes filled with confusion.
“What is this place?”
She asked in a hushed voice.
Hell didn’t answer immediately.
He crouched there silently, his gaze scanning every corner of the factory grounds through his mask—the patrol routes of the guards, the distribution of the guard posts, the blind spots in the lighting… Then, he turned his head and looked at Luna.
The red “V” on his mask flickered faintly in the darkness, like an eye opening in the dark.
“This is a Crystal Husk manufacturing factory.”
His voice was soft, yet carried a chilling quality.
Luna froze.
Her pale golden eyes widened abruptly. Deep within her pupils, a tide of disbelief surged.
A Crystal Husk… manufacturing factory?
She had always believed Crystal Husks poured out from Space Rifts, were monsters from another world, a naturally occurring disaster.
But now, this Adjudicator before her was telling her—
Those Crystal Husks she had fought and eliminated countless times were actually… artificially produced?
“H-how is that possible…”
The girl murmured to herself, her voice tinged with unconcealed shock.
How could Crystal Husks be produced?
Where did they come from? Who was making them? Why were they being made?
Countless questions exploded in Luna’s mind, leaving her momentarily unable to process this information.
However, before the girl could recover from her shock, Hell’s next words struck her ears like a thunderclap.
“Now it’s your turn—to destroy this factory.”
Luna’s pupils contracted sharply.