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Night.
The cars, the fog, and the streetlights combined to paint a moody backdrop. Mona carried suitcase after suitcase into the portal, diligently and without complaint, like a little bee transporting nectar. She wore a black mini-skirt that didn’t reach her knees, with black stockings cladding her long, shapely legs. Her blouse was unremarkable, with the top two buttons undone. For safe driving, she took off her high heels when behind the wheel.
Why not just switch to flat shoes, you ask? Well, it was by her master’s requirement that she kept the high heels. He also dictated what she should wear, stating that her skirt had to be above the knees, and her lipstick had to be a bold red to go with her heavy makeup.
She followed his orders and pushed new boundaries with her looks every day. She never asked why; whatever her master demanded, she did.
It was the sensible thing to do. After all, she was supposed to be enslaved and corrupted by a demon follower. It would be suspicious for her to dress too conservatively.
Wayne sat on the sofa, lifting his cup of black tea and blowing the steam as he watched her bustle about. He was extremely satisfied with her performance over the past few days. She did whatever she was told to do without any questions or complaints, having become a professional messenger.
In the center of the courtyard, the alchemy circle emanated black mist. From above, one could see a massive maw-like abyss gaping in the darkness—with red lips and two rows of gleaming white teeth that embodied evil perfectly.
Mona stood before the circle, putting on...
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