Daughter of the Devil (Second Update)

"Morlu, do me a favor. Find out whether the Vatican has recently sent any clergy to Portland. The kind who perform exorcisms." Salomon stared through the curtain of rain at the blurred scene beyond the car window. The rain refracted the light, turning every outline vague and indistinct; even the warm glow spilling from the shops was no exception. But that did not stop the Arcanist from seeing the person across the rain, because he was not using his own eyes, but magic.

His spellcasting seemed to have alerted the other party.

"There is? Find out her name. She’s a woman, with long dark hair, rather cute-looking, though her expression is a little stern." After hanging up, the Arcanist naturally picked up the donut in front of him and opened the Left Eye he had kept shut until then. Food cooled quickly in the rain. Just as Salomon was about to recite a spell to heat the donut, he remembered how sensitive the subject of his observation was to magic.

He muttered a curse, then took a bite of the ice-cold donut.

"How much longer are we going to wait here?" Dave complained quietly. Ever since Salomon had told him to drive his beat-up secondhand car through a portal, Dave’s dissatisfaction had been building. "I have classes to attend!" As though thoroughly provoked, his voice grew louder and louder. "And I have a girlfriend! Do you expect me to call her and tell her I have to take a business trip to San Francisco after class?"

"Betty will understand."

"What about your girlfriend?"

"She’s away hunting angels. There are rather a lot of angels appearing this time." The Arcanist did not turn around, continuing to observe the hazy figure across the street. The rain was ultimately too much of an interference. He could only make out the person’s general movements and could not read their lips to tell what the target and the clergyman were saying.

"You haven’t told me what we’re even looking for!" Dave said. "You should tell me. I don’t like being kept in the dark."

"You don’t know?" Salomon turned around and looked at Dave in surprise. He had not expected Balthazar to withhold something so important from his apprentice.

"I don’t! I’ve been working hard in environmental science…"

"Then do you know about Marduk, the Three-headed Poison Dragon, and how Marduk wants to kill me?"

"Satan! I know. Balthazar told me."

"Good." The Arcanist shifted his gaze back. "We’re watching Marduk’s offspring. But I can’t get their detailed files right now. S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t been very cooperative with me. All I know is that Marduk’s children suffered misfortune in childhood—something very, very terrible. Their father seemed to have been possessed by a devil, and Damon—Marduk’s offspring—has an inverted pentagram scar on his chest. Though the scar is incomplete, Marduk also bears an inverted pentagram mark on his chest."

"Oh!" Dave cried out in surprise, then fell silent.

"Possession is the only way creatures from the lower planes can influence the Prime Material Plane after the Planetary Defense System was established, because it is almost impossible to detect. Kamar-Taj cannot use the Planetary Defense System to determine who has been possessed. We can only know where the Ether Plane has been disturbed and where magic has been cast, but we cannot know who cast it," Salomon said. "I’m not making excuses for Kamar-Taj’s shortcomings. That is simply the truth. Unless we come into direct contact with them, we cannot know whose body the devil is inhabiting."

"Then how do you know that person is Satan’s offspring?"

"There are photos and an address in the information Mephisto provided, but no past records. Just like a devil—he knows what I want to do. Drive. That’s enough observation for today."

"It’s over?" Dave was overjoyed, but then he realized something was off. "Shouldn’t you get out and arrest him? Isn’t that how you operate? You’re even wearing robes! I remember the other Demonkin was under your close surveillance."

"There are two." Salomon shattered Dave’s illusions. "I think this Demonkin may be interested in killing his own father, but I cannot be certain yet, because they are still too weak. If that is the case, then I’ll send him to Hell—literally… Drive, Dave. We’re changing targets. Damon is being watched. He has a sister, and our mission is only halfway done."

"Two Demonkin. Looks like you’ve got big trouble," Dave muttered as he started the rattling secondhand car and pulled out of the parking space.

Salomon was quite worried, because this two-hundred-dollar used car could fall apart at any moment. It was probably older than he and Dave combined. Fortunately, it managed to hold together until they reached the portal Salomon opened in an alley.

"Hey, you still haven’t told me where we’re going next!"

"San Francisco. Also, after going through the portal, remember to change the car’s appearance. I want a Bugatti Veyron. Drive more arrogantly. You’re white; no one will give you trouble in a big city."

"Anna Hellstrom." Salomon called out to the tall, short-haired woman who was about to enter the hotel. She was about as tall as Salomon, though somewhat shorter than Bayonetta, so Salomon felt no pressure when facing her. The woman seemed deeply displeased by his appearance. She narrowed her eyes and carefully examined the Arcanist in his Shroud Robe—she could faintly sense a threat from his clothing.

"Care to talk? It’s about your father."

A father kidnapping his daughter! That was the only impression her father had left upon the world. Anna would never forget the despair she had felt sitting in that car. All these years, only her brother had continued pursuing the events of the past. Salomon’s sudden appearance made her recall those memories once more. Anna Hellstrom agreed to his proposal with some hesitation, and they stood facing one another on the sidewalk.

"It seems your family relationship isn’t very harmonious, Satana." The Arcanist directly addressed her by the name she would bear in the future. Although Anna Hellstrom’s powers had yet to fully awaken, Salomon had noticed while observing her from the car that she was deliberately using her own power.

"I’m not Satana. Who are you?" Anna Hellstrom did not understand what the Arcanist meant.

"Magic runs in your blood, but your powers have not fully awakened yet. You cannot fight your father." The Arcanist pointed at himself. "I need you, Anna Hellstrom—or rather, Satana. I am your father’s mortal enemy—not your father in the human world, but the father of your soul, the enemy of that thing possessing your biological father. Put simply, I want to train you. When I go to Hell to face your father in a final battle, I will need your help."

"How am I supposed to know whether I can trust some maniac who suddenly appears and spouts nonsense?" Anna Hellstrom said with a cold laugh. "I’m leaving. Don’t follow me, or you’ll learn what I’m capable of."

After taking several steps away, she discovered that she seemed to be walking in place. The scenery around her had not changed at all, yet she was genuinely moving forward. She looked down in shock and saw that the concrete paving stones beneath her feet were slowly moving backward like a treadmill belt, their destination being the man dressed in red.

"Be patient. The reason I haven’t gone to find your brother is because unknown people have appeared around him, and I can’t determine whether he’s being watched." Filled with anger, Anna Hellstrom reached toward him. Salomon raised the finger bearing the Sling Ring and easily dispelled the crude spell.

"You see," he said. "You don’t know how to use your power at all. You merely wanted to do it, so you reached out and let your magic do the rest. But you can do far more than this, Satana. I know your hatred. I know you want to kill that person. I can help you. We can help each other."