Luna’s crying left Hell stunned too.
He sat in that chair, still holding the pink phone in his hand, frozen for a moment.
Behind the mask, his perpetually weary eyes widened slightly, a flash of obvious bewilderment visible deep in his pupils.
What was going on here?
How had she started shedding little pearls over nothing?
He had seen Luna angry, seen her alert, seen her stubborn, seen her grinding her teeth in helpless frustration—but he had never seen her cry.
And certainly not like this.
This wasn’t a restrained, silent weeping.
It was a full-blown, unreserved bawling, like a child whose toy had been snatched away.
The sobbing was shrill and desperate, echoing through the empty, abandoned warehouse.
Hell froze for a few seconds. Then he stood up and walked toward the shabby bed.
His black trench coat swayed gently behind him, his footsteps making faint sounds on the concrete floor.
He reached the bedside and looked down at the girl curled into a ball.
The blanket was wrapped tightly around Luna, exposing only a fuzzy pink head.
Her shoulders shook violently, her whole body trembling, the cries muffled beneath the blanket like a wounded little animal.
“What are you crying about?”
Hell paused for a moment. Then he spoke, his tone carrying a rare note of almost confused inquiry.
Luna didn’t answer. Or rather, she couldn’t hear anything.
She just curled there, pressing the blanket hard against her face, sobbing and mumbling something incoherent.
“Wah… it’s over… everything’s over…”
“It’s all my fault… all because of me…”
“Wah… Hestia… Saya… I’m sorry…”
Those broken words leaked out from under the blanket, mixed with sobs, sniffles, and despair, drifting intermittently into Hell’s ears.
Hell stood there, listening.
He was silent for a few seconds.
Then he finally understood.
This girl… thought he had looked at her phone and leaked the Goddess Angel Alliance’s intelligence.
She thought he would use that information to find the other Goddess Angels, pick them off one by one, and wipe them all out.
She thought all of this was because of her, because she was the “culprit.”
Hell looked at the girl curled up and crying her heart out. From behind the mask came a very soft sigh.
Helpless.
Truly helpless.
His plan, indeed, was to gain control over as many Goddess Angels as possible and eliminate the “Eternal Night Gospel.”
Luna wasn’t wrong about that.
The Goddess Angel “Artemis” was just his first step.
She was the target Hell had carefully selected as the most suitable starting point—because she was kind, because she valued her companions, because she had a strong sense of responsibility and mission. These qualities made her more likely to compromise when facing threats and less likely to turn against him once she became a “pawn.”
But that didn’t mean he was going to “go all out at once.”
Haste makes waste.
He understood that truth better than anyone.
Controlling a Goddess Angel required time, patience, and the gradual building of trust—or rather, the construction of a twisted dependency.
It wasn’t something you could accomplish just by adding a friend and sending a few messages.
If he rushed to privately message Saya, Sylph, and Hestia right now, threatening them with the same methods—
What would happen?
They would tell Luna immediately.
They would join forces to investigate his real identity. They would discover the connection between “Arbiter V” and “Hell.”
And then?
His plan would collapse completely.
So, even though he had the opportunity to privately contact other Goddess Angels just now, Hell didn’t act.
Not because his heart had softened.
Not because he suddenly had a conscience.
Only because—
The timing wasn’t right.
What he needed to do now was to firmly control the Goddess Angel in front of him.
Make her fall completely into his grasp.
Make her the most stable and reliable piece on his board.
Then, using her as a springboard, gradually approach the other Goddess Angels.
Step by step. Steady and solid.
That was the correct strategy.
So Hell bent down and gently placed the pink phone on the edge of the bed, right within Luna’s reach. Then he straightened up, his voice carrying a rare note of almost soothing gentleness.
“Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t do any of those superfluous things you’re imagining.”
Luna’s crying paused slightly.
Hell continued, his tone still calm. He paused for a moment and glanced at the phone.
“I only notified them to come eliminate that monster and sent them a message that you were safe. That’s all.”
Hearing this, Luna’s crying stopped.
Then she suddenly threw off the blanket, revealing her tear-streaked face—swollen eyes, a red nose, cheeks still wet with remnants of tears. She looked utterly disheveled.
The girl practically lunged forward, snatching the phone from the bed into her hands, her movements frantic as if grabbing a precious treasure. Then she began frantically checking it. Her trembling fingers unlocked the screen, trembling as she opened “Starlight Covenant,” trembling as she scrolled through every chat log.
Tears dripped one by one onto the screen, spreading patches of water on the small piece of glass. Luna didn’t bother to wipe them away. She just stared dead at the screen, at every message, at every word, at every punctuation mark.
In the group chat “Watch Eden,” there was the message sent after “she” had passed out, along with the attached video. Following that were replies and support from her fellow Goddess Angels.
Finally, there was a message sent in her own words.
“Sisters, be careful. That monster is strong. I’m already out of danger and resting in a safe place. Don’t worry about me.”
A “cheer up” emoji was added at the end.
Luna scrolled through them one by one, reading each line.
Those messages, as Hell had said, only notified them to come eliminate the monster and reported that she was safe.
Moreover, the messages sent in her tone—the wording, the phrasing, even the emoji—were all exactly how she would normally speak. If it had been her, she would have said the same thing and sent the same sticker.
Luna’s fingers trembled slightly. She raised her head and looked at Hell standing by the bed.
In her swollen, reddish-gold eyes, a whirlwind of complex emotions churned—relief, confusion, vigilance, and a hint of… something she couldn’t quite name herself.
Hell just stood there quietly, not saying anything.
Yet even after confirming what he had just said, Luna still didn’t dare let her guard down. She lowered her head and continued checking the other information on her phone.
In the group chat list, besides “Watch Eden,” there were several other groups—a main group, a mission group, a casual chat group. Each group had a mountain of chat logs, full of interactions between her and other Goddess Angels, and… those sisters’ nicknames, avatars, and ways of speaking.
Even if this Arbiter hadn’t said anything strange, even if he hadn’t used her name to trick those Goddess Angels into coming out—he had still learned which Goddess Angels were in Academy City Eden.
He had seen their avatars, seen their nicknames, seen their posts in the groups.
Maybe he had even memorized their IP addresses.
Maybe, based on that information, he had already inferred their approximate locations.
Maybe…
Luna’s fingers clenched the phone, her knuckles turning white from the force.
Even if it hadn’t reached the worst-case scenario, even if nothing irreversible had happened yet—the intelligence had indeed been leaked.
The existence of those sisters, their identity information, their activity patterns…
All exposed.
All because of her mistake.
Exposed.
Thinking about this, Luna’s eyes grew red again.
The girl bit her lower lip hard, even pressing until she tasted blood, struggling to keep the tears from falling again.
What was she supposed to do next?