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Chapter 86 The Demon Called Judy

  I was halfway into a nap when curiosity sabotaged my survival instincts.

  "But I thought there was a rule stating that all Masters must stay within their houses. How is it that you were outside?"

  Ah. That blasted curiosity and chatterbox mouth. Who told you to interrupt my peace?

  I grumbly got up only to see something I regret seeing. The old man casually scratching his beard. White flakes drifted down. Snow. Indoors. From his face. I shot him a judging stare, but he was utterly unfazed by it.

  Instead, he blew the dirt from his fingers and said, "I was bored, so I went out for a while. How can they expect us to be cooped up in the house every day, huh? That's abuse, I'm telling you!"

  I let out a small giggle.

  Aigoo~ This old man. The mental image I'd built of the ten Masters. Stoic, untouchable, almost divine, shattered by every one of his ridiculous antics.

  I shook my head. "But isn't it against the rules?" I asked again, needing to understand.

  He shrugged, eyes twinkling with unrepentant mischief. "Rules are meant to be broken, L."

  That phrase... Why does it sound so familiar? Oh ya, Ma.

  "Besides, a little adventure and fresh air never hurt anyone. It keeps the spirit young and the mind sharp."

  …And here I was, nodding along. Agreeing with a man who openly admitted to breaking high-level security protocol for "fresh air."

  I must be going crazy.

  A moment later.

  BOOM.

  CRASH.

  CREAK.

  The peaceful atmosphere detonated under the weight of a sudden cacophony outside.

  "Enemy attack?!" I jumped up, heart already thundering against my ribs.

  Don't make a hole out of the airship. I'm not ready to die young, and my looks aren't at their best yet.

  But Master Vod? He didn't even flinch. If anything, he seemed more amused than alarmed.

  "Nah. That's probably my disciple," he said, chuckling like a man watching his dog knock over flowerpots.

  Then, SLAM!

  The door burst open, nearly flying off its hinges. A figure stormed into the room, cloaked in dust.

  "Master?! Are you alright?!"

  I swatted away the dust from my face and narrowed my eyes. The voice. Familiar.

  My head snapped to him instinctively, heart skipping not out of fear but joy.

  "Ronald!" I leapt onto him and attached myself like a koala on a bamboo tree.

  "Llyne?!" His eyes widen. Plain, but it's Ronald.

  "Wow! You're huge! You're like a grizzly bear!" I gasped, climbing over him like an overexcited squirrel.

  And it was true, his body looked bulked up, arms thick with muscle. Not that he isn't before this, but now he could wrestle a mountain bear with a pinky and still win. Time had changed him.

  Ronald scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, lowering himself. I'm still attached to his side, my butt hovering slightly above the ground.

  Oh. My butt doesn't feel secure. I lifted my butt slightly and wiggled. The ground is near but not too near.

  I released my grip off Ronald, and I landed on the ground with a little thud. I rubbed my throbbing butt. Good padding. I nodded proudly.

  The old man burst into a fit of wheezing laughter, still riding the high of his own joke.

  I stared at him and sighed. Poor innocent Ronald. Of all Masters he got, it had to be a lunatic. Ronald leaned closer, whispering, "Sorry about that. My master likes to tease people a lot."

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  Aww. My sweet, sweet Ronald, caring for your pal. I should comfort him, too. I whispered back, tears teetering on my eyes, trying to defy gravity, "It's fine. Mine, too."

  Master Sylph had her own wicked streak. Not as chaotic as Vod, but dangerous in her own quiet way. Now that I think about it… Do you have to be a lunatic to be a Master?

  Note: There's no such requirement. But the pattern is concerning.

  Still... if I'm being honest with myself, maybe I'm a bit of a lunatic, too.

  While my brain spiraled between insanity and more insanity, Master Vod slammed a fresh wine bottle on the table with a grin. "Want to hear something funny, child?"

  "Of course," I flew forward, almost knocking my forehead against his. "Who wouldn't?"

  His gaze locked onto Ronald, eyes practically glowing with glee.

  "That young Chad there," he said, clearly enjoying the nickname, "his alcohol tolerance is so low he fainted from just a sip."

  "What?!" I stared at Ronald, who had now buried his face in his palms. His ears were turning red.

  "He just took one sip, and boom! His head smashed onto the table. Gyahahahaha!" Vod roared, slapping his thigh in delight.

  I blinked. Just a sip? Is that possible? My alcohol tolerance was higher than that of even as a child.

  My mind drifted off to memory lane again.

  I was 10 that year. Ma thought I was old enough to drink alcohol.

  It was a weekend morning when Ma screamed from below. I was still lying in bed, drool flooding out of my mouth. I jolted awake as soon as I heard Ma's voice.

  "Ah! Ma called hngh..." Reluctantly, I slothfully shifted my body towards the edge of the bed and rolled off, then proceeded downstairs with my hair sticking out everywhere.

  I reached the kitchen and saw a large number of alcohol bottles on the table. I glanced at Ma, and she was carrying another crate to the table.

  I stared at the alcohol and rubbed my tummy. I have a bad feeling about this.

  Ma gestured for me to sit. I sat beside her, and she poured the alcoholic drink into a mug. She shoved it in front of me and signaled, 'What are you waiting for? Drink.'.

  I glanced at the bottle Ma was holding. The alcohol percentage was forty percent. I glanced back at Ma. Really?

  Seeing how I was just staring at her, she took the mug and shoved it down my throat. After that, my brain became foggy, and I didn't remember what I did for the rest of the day.

  Since that day, Ma would slip alcohol into my drink. Sometimes, she lied and said she bought new drinks, but the truth is she mixed alcohol together and made me drink them.

  She's crazy but she's Ma.

  I turned to see Ronald face's turning cherry red. Maybe the alcohol content is high.

  "What was the alcohol percentage?" I asked, desperate to make sense of it.

  Vod raised five fingers.

  "Fifty percent?" I guessed.

  He shook his head, shoulders quaking with more laughter. "No, just five. Only five percent!"

  "WHAT?!" I yelped, utterly stunned.

  Can people pass out from five percent? It's just water with a bit of flavor.

  Ronald, in a voice smaller than I'd ever heard him use, whispered, "I'm underage, Master."

  Vod leaned forward, eyes narrowing, his tone mock-stern. "Quit that excuse. Only losers use excuses, got it, Chad?"

  Ronald nodded sheepishly, clearly used to this level of torment. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  Above us, the clouds drifted lazily in the blue sky, and for a brief moment, time itself seemed to slow. Laughter spilled across the room, warm and wild. In that bizarrely tranquil place, we were no longer captives of war, no longer pawns of a larger game. We were just people, enjoying each other's company.

  If you're curious what I mean, honestly, I have no idea either.

  Then, CRACK.

  Master Vod stood abruptly, stretching. "Well, I'll leave you two young sponges here while I enjoy my wine outside."

  Sponges? He's really got a thing for weird nicknames…

  But just as he made for the exit, Ronald suddenly stiffened. "Master, wait! Miss Judy, she—"

  CREEEAAK.

  The door creaked open behind us. No one moved. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. A figure filled the doorway. Even Master Vod went perfectly still. Her voice slithered.

  "Master Vod~"

  The color drained from Vod's face.

  "Ah! It's Miss Judy!" he shrieked in horror, and in the next second, he vanished. So did she.

  Just like that. Gone. I turned slowly toward Ronald and he completely lost it. He was praying. Legitimately praying.

  "Don't worry. That old man will be alright. Believe me," I said, trying to comfort him.

  He looked up, uncertain. "Really?"

  "Really!" I declared with a forced smile, like someone swearing the sun still shone while standing in a blizzard.

  Then AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!

  Master Vod's screams echoed from somewhere outside, high-pitched and tortured. Ronald clutched me like a lifeline. His body trembled violently. I could feel his heartbeat hammering against mine.

  "If you want to live, better ignore it. You never know what kind of person Miss Judy is," I whispered quickly. "She might kill us to cover her tracks. You know, like those creepy murderers in movies."

  Ronald's face went white. He nodded gravely.

  If Vod saw us now, he'd scream betrayal. But… sorry, old man. We youngsters, gotta survive, too.

  Gradually, the screams faded into silence, leaving a tension thick enough to slice.

  Creak.

  The door opened again. My soul nearly left my body. There she stood. Miss Judy.

  I screamed instinctively. "Ahh!! I don't want to die!!"

  But her voice was… calm. Soft, even. "Die? Why would you?"

  I peeked through half-closed eyes. The terrifying figure from before was gone. Standing before us was a mature woman with a warm smile, radiating an aura so calm it felt surreal.

  "Hello. My name is Judy. Everyone calls me Miss Judy." She extended her hand. Perfectly polite. Perfectly terrifying. "You must be Miss Llyne. I received an email stating that you might visit the House of Vodka today. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  My own hands trembled, but I managed to reciprocate. "Yes… I'm Llyne. Nice to meet you, too."

  Miss Judy paused mid-sentence. Her gaze lowered to my shoulder. “…Excuse me.”

  She reached out, brushed a white flake away with a tissue, and smiled. “There we are.”

  I glanced at her fingers. There was a stain. Not ink. Not wine.

  I popped a calming pill into my mouth and forced a smile. "The demon is gone?"

  Miss Judy chuckled. "Oh, you mean what happened just now?"

  A heartbeat later, Master Vod's scream cut through the hallway again. Miss Judy's smile dropped a degree for a blink. "Don't worry about it. It's just a daily routine between the Master and me. I'm terribly sorry if it frightened you while you were here."

  Daily routine…? What kind of "routine" involves a Master screaming like he's being torn apart?

  And yet, as my nose twitched, I realized something terrifying.

  She meant it.

  Completely.

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