Splash.
Cough. Cough.
"Wake the fuck up, bastard!" S6 barked, hurling another bucket of cold water at Ming Soo.
Mom...
"I said wake the fuck up!" Crack. S6's slap landed like a gunshot. Blood bloomed from Ming Soo's nose.
His whole body trembled.
Mom... I'm sorry... I'm sorry!
Ming Soo's voice broke into a hoarse, wailing sob.
"This piece of shit," S6 muttered, clenching his fist again.
"I told you it was too much," S5 said, frowning as he watched the scene unfold.
"That means it's working," S6 replied with a grin, bloodlust dancing in his eyes.
Sick fuck, S5 thought bitterly. We're breaking him.
The door creaked open.
"Is he awake?" S2 asked as she stepped in, arms folded, face unreadable.
"Barely," said S6, wiping the blood off his hand.
"He's broken," muttered S5.
"Then it worked," S2 echoed.
"You didn't tell me I'd be surrounded by psychos," S5 snapped.
"Yet here you are," S2 replied coldly, assembling the recording gear.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm prepping him," S6 said, dragging Ming Soo up by the hair like a broken doll.
"I told you," S3 said lazily, leaning against S5. "I'm the only sane one here."
"You're the biggest freak of us all," S5 shoved him away.
"They're Sung," S6 reminded, jabbing a finger at the trembling boy.
"He's just a kid..." S5 muttered, his voice barely audible.
Silence.
The room fell into a thick, tense pause.
S2 sighed. "Let's just get this over with."
Everyone moved. No more jokes. No more smiles.
Mom...
Ming Soo whimpered.
Back at Ming Soo's house.
"You okay?" Lornad asked.
"Yeah..." Yumi said, rubbing her arms. "Just got a chill down my spine."
"You really think those scumbag exorcists are behind this?" Nightwalker asked.
"Yes," Yumi replied flatly.
"Nope. I still say it's someone inside the Church," Lornad chimed in. "Someone high up. A puppet master."
"That's ridiculous," said Nightwalker.
"It can't be," Yumi added. "The Church's stable now. The new Pope's no joke."
"You forget the Demon Slayer still walks," Lornad warned, voice tight.
"Doesn't matter," Yumi replied. "Trap or not, we're going in."
She turned to Nightwalker. "Damien, find Aeron. Tell him to meet us here."
"Quick question. Where the fuck is he?" Nightwalker raised an eyebrow.
"Not my problem," Yumi replied with a smirk.
"Tch," Nightwalker disappeared into a swirl of black fog.
Yumi turned to Lornad. "You—finish what I gave you."
"You're going alone?" he asked.
"Aww, worried?" she teased.
"For them? Yes," he said, deadly serious.
Ping.
A notification blinked on the Crimson Veil phone.
Yumi opened it. Stared.
Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
Then, boom.
A pressure exploded from her body like a nuclear pulse.
Car alarms wailed. Dogs howled. The night itself trembled.
Lornad's heart pounded like it was being crushed. He looked at her—and saw the face of wrath incarnate.
Yumi's eyes were blown wide with fury. Her teeth clenched so hard veins bulged on her face. She shivered—not from fear, but from rage.
Then she turned to Lornad... and grinned.
"Change of plans," she said, face twisted into a demon's smile.
Lornad flinched.
Smoke swallowed her.
"This is bad," he whispered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Crimson Veil Hideout.
"Is the video up yet?" S3 asked, draped on S2's shoulder.
"Get off me," S2 muttered, shoving him off like an annoying cat in that sharp, efficient German tone.
"You know you fancy it, don't ya?" S3 winked, cockney laced through every syllable like pub smoke.
Smack.
S2's fist crashed into his nose.
"I told you to fucking stop that!" she yelled with clipped German intensity.
"Gah! Me bloody nose! I think you broke the damn thing!" S3 wailed, clutching his face dramatically.
"Good. It's uploaded. Now fuck off," S2 snapped.
S3 held his bleeding nose. "You always hit me when I flirt. Makes me think you actually give a damn."
"Do you think this plan'll actually work?" he asked more seriously, dabbing blood on his sleeve with a dramatic sniff. "I mean, this whole scheme's got more moving parts than a London train schedule."
"I don't know. It's her plan. We just follow it," S2 replied, tapping at her laptop like it had personally insulted her ancestors.
"You know what's nuts? I thought she was a bloke this whole bloody time," S3 muttered. "Even when she showed up, face all covered and mysterious like some James Bond villain."
"You're not alone," said S2, eyes flicking up briefly. "She's… different."
"She's got that aura, yeah? That don't-fuck-with-me vibe like she's been through ten wars and still ain't cracked."
"Yup."
"You ever try diggin' into her past?"
"Of course," S2 said, her tone frosty as Berlin winter. "But there's no trace. No digital footprint. It's like she doesn't exist."
"She spoke to Ming Soo... then boom, ghosted."
"All I know?" He grinned. "She's taller than me. And that's saying something."
"She's a mystery, but a good leader," said S2.
"Which is bloody terrifying," S3 shivered. "You can outdrink a Brit, you can outrun a Yank, but you can't outsmart a ghost."
"I can break any code. But her?" S2 paused. "She's unbreakable."
S3 blinked. "You? Admittin' defeat? What is this, end of days?"
"She scares me."
"Yo... you look dead sexy when you say scary shit," S3 flirted, cheeks tinged red like a bloke caught with his pants down.
"You're impossible," S2 chuckled. Briefly. Like a tank revving before war.
They shared a rare, quiet moment.
Cough.
S6 appeared at the door.
His face grim.
"We have a problem."
Three Months Ago – Crimson Veil Base One
A man stood before 300 soldiers in matching black gear, standing at attention like shadows lined up for war.
He opened a laptop. A voice crackled from the speakers.
"Children... My name is Haven," said a calm, gravelly voice—thick with intimidating Italian charm, like a mafia boss who reads Sun Tzu over espresso.
"From now on, I will speak to you this way. For some, this is your first time hearing me. I want to thank you."
"NO SIR! IT'S OUR PLEASURE TO BE HERE!" the soldiers thundered back.
"Crimson Veil has survived six years. Every day, we grow stronger."
Silence. Heavy. Focused.
"Our enemy is the same. Sung."
The voice turned sharp. Like a stiletto sliding between ribs.
"They have warped our lives... made monsters of us. They haunt our dreams. It's time we haunt them back!"
"YES SIR!"
Haven's voice crackled again, this time laced with molten fury. Smooth and deadly.
"Our next mission is critical. We're up against beasts. If you need a name... call them demons."
Crimson Veil Hideout.
"Is the video up yet?" S3 asked, draped on S2's shoulder.
"Get off me," S2 muttered, shoving him off like an annoying cat in that sharp, efficient German tone.
"You know you fancy it, don't ya?" S3 winked, cockney laced through every syllable like pub smoke.
Smack.
S2's fist crashed into his nose.
"I told you to fucking stop that!" she yelled with clipped German intensity.
"Gah! Me bloody nose! I think you broke the damn thing!" S3 wailed, clutching his face dramatically.
"Good. It's uploaded. Now fuck off," S2 snapped.
S3 held his bleeding nose. "You always hit me when I flirt. Makes me think you actually give a damn."
"Do you think this plan'll actually work?" he asked more seriously, dabbing blood on his sleeve with a dramatic sniff. "I mean, this whole scheme's got more moving parts than a London train schedule."
"I don't know. It's her plan. We just follow it," S2 replied, tapping at her laptop like it had personally insulted her ancestors.
"You know what's nuts? I thought she was a bloke this whole bloody time," S3 muttered. "Even when she showed up, face all covered and mysterious like some James Bond villain."
"You're not alone," said S2, eyes flicking up briefly. "She's… different."
"She's got that aura, yeah? That don't-fuck-with-me vibe like she's been through ten wars and still ain't cracked."
"Yup."
"You ever try diggin' into her past?"
"Of course," S2 said, her tone frosty as Berlin winter. "But there's no trace. No digital footprint. It's like she doesn't exist."
"She spoke to Ming Soo... then boom, ghosted."
"All I know?" He grinned. "She's taller than me. And that's saying something."
"She's a mystery, but a good leader," said S2.
"Which is bloody terrifying," S3 shivered. "You can outdrink a Brit, you can outrun a Yank, but you can't outsmart a ghost."
"I can break any code. But her?" S2 paused. "She's unbreakable."
S3 blinked. "You? Admittin' defeat? What is this, end of days?"
"She scares me."
"Yo... you look dead sexy when you say scary shit," S3 flirted, cheeks tinged red like a bloke caught with his pants down.
"You're impossible," S2 chuckled. Briefly. Like a tank revving before war.
They shared a rare, quiet moment.
Cough.
S6 appeared at the door.
His face grim.
"We have a problem."
Three Months Ago – Crimson Veil Base One
A man stood before 300 soldiers in matching black gear, standing at attention like shadows lined up for war.
He opened a laptop. A voice crackled from the speakers.
"Children... My name is Haven," said a calm, gravelly voice—thick with intimidating Italian charm, like a mafia boss who reads Sun Tzu over espresso.
"From now on, I will speak to you this way. For some, this is your first time hearing me. I want to thank you."
"NO SIR! IT'S OUR PLEASURE TO BE HERE!" the soldiers thundered back.
"Crimson Veil has survived six years. Every day, we grow stronger."
Silence. Heavy. Focused.
"Our enemy is the same. Sung."
The voice turned sharp. Like a stiletto sliding between ribs.
"They have warped our lives... made monsters of us. They haunt our dreams. It's time we haunt them back!"
"YES SIR!"
Haven's voice crackled again, this time laced with molten fury. Smooth and deadly.
"Our next mission is critical. We're up against beasts. If you need a name... call them demons."
Present Time – Ming Soo's Prison
Step.
Step.
Step.
"Stop! No civilians allowed!" A masked guard raised his rifle.
Yumi didn't stop.
"I'm no civilian," she said with a grin.