Devil's sister.

In a spacious neighborhood, where the energy was loud and vibrant.

Laughter mixes with the chatter of passersby, some staggering under the weight of their drinks.

The streets are crowded with stories, each alley hiding secrets known only to its inhabitants.

On one side of the lively street stood a modest tavern.

An aged wooden sign hung above its entrance, bearing a simple name that seemed to reflect nothing but the essence of its visitors: "The People's Tavern."

The name was neither grand nor striking, yet it served as an honest mirror for those who frequented it—ordinary souls, burdened by life, seeking a fleeting moment of escape.

_ _ _

Inside the tavern, where worn-out wooden tables were scattered around, men sat talking, drinking, and eating.

The floor wasn't in the best condition, yet, despite its age, it remained sturdy.

But the attention wasn't on the tables or the floor; it was drawn to a woman seated at the main table.

Her silky black hair flowed smoothly, and her green dress, which covered most of her figure, made her presence striking.

A small white bandage adorned the back of her injured neck, adding an air of mystery to her aura.

Despite the relentless gazes directed her way, she responded with a stern look that made everyone who dared to stare avert their eyes and return to their own conversations.

"Damn, this place, don't change." The woman said with a serious tone and an indignant expression.

"You're the one who changed," said the bald man, dressed in a light purple shirt with a white cloth tied around his waist, as he wiped down the drinking glasses.

"I haven't changed; the years have just been harsh." She said, in a calm tone while looking at the table with half-open eyes.

The man turned around after finishing arranging all the empty cups on the shelf and placed his hands on the long table, looking at her. "So, you still refuse to tell me what happened to your neck?"

The expression of the woman with the glossy eyebrows soured, as if she didn't want to discuss the matter. "It's nothing."

The bald man with the slightly shaved black beard, leaned forward, studying her face. "Luvita, I've known you since you were a child. I know what you love and what you hate. I can tell when you're happy and when you're sad just from your expression. So, tell me, how did you get that injury on your neck?"

Luvita sighed deeply and smiled faintly. "Gzaf, you're really stubborn."

"And I always will be," He replied, without hesitation.

She placed her hand on the back of her neck, and the faint smile disappeared, replaced by a serious expression. "Do you remember the man I told you I was going to marry?"

"The one who became a soldier? Yes, why? Don't tell me he's the one who hurt you!"

"No, but he was executed along with eight other men who were his companions."

Gzaf suddenly stood up from his seat in astonishment. "You mean the nine bodies that that flying military ship passed by? Your fiancé was one of them!" He looked completely stunned, and added, "But how? This man can't even hurt a fly, let alone turn into a demon."

"A demon, you say?" Luvita took a sip of her drink.

"What?"

"Nothing at all... Yes, the man I was supposed to marry was executed for performing what they called demon rituals."

"But that's impossible. That man is the last person I would expect to do something like that. Tell me you're joking, Luvita," he said, grabbing a cup of water from the table. He slammed the glass down with force, startling everyone around them.

"The execution is real," she said coldly. "But the demon rituals? He didn't do them; he was executed by mistake."

"Then how did he end up getting executed?" Gzaf asked, his confusion obvious.

She leaned in and whispered, "I'm the one who performed the demon rituals."

He recoiled, almost falling off his chair.

"Easy now," she smirked at him, clearly amused.

Gzaf stood up quickly, eyes wide in disbelief. "Wait, Luvita, you can't be serious?"

"I'm absolutely serious."

He leaned closer, the question now burning in his mind. "Then why was it him who got executed, not you?"

"Because I betrayed him."

Gzaf's eyes widened in shock. "Luvita, I can't believe what I'm hearing!"

"Wait a moment." He walked away from the long table and walked over to the last three remaining men and ushered them out, "Sorry, sorry but I'll be opening again after midnight, you can come back then."

After closing the door, he quickly returned nervously and sat next to her, "Luvita, you know the seriousness of what you're saying!"

"Didn't you say you knew me?" she replied, almost mocking.

He grabbed her glass from the table and she looked surprised by the gesture as he questioned her further. "So, why were you so angry when I first brought up your injury?"

She rested her hand again on her neck, her expression darkening, exuding pure fury. "I was hit by that damn soldier, Ryudas. I'll never forgive him. I'll make him pay a hundred times over." The intensity of her expression, filled with wrath and hatred, was unmistakable.

"So your anger wasn't about your fiancé's death?" He asked, trying to clarify.

"Of course not," she answered with a sarcastic smile creeping over her lips.

"Honestly, do you expect me to be angry over the loss of such a weak and superficial man? What would his presence have added to my life!"

"Then why did you get involved with him? And how was he discovered and executed?" Gzaf's voice softened, but his questions were sharp, full of unspoken emotions.

"Because of his family's inheritance."

"Do you mean his share of the inheritance?"

"Yes. It all started from that moment when I performed that damned superstition, the power ritual, and failed. That old bi*ch Eriza, the landlord of the apartment building, betrayed me by telling the soldiers that someone in my room was summoning spirits through a demonic ritual. And you know how those in power react when it goes against the taboos of their precious democracy."

Gzaf turned his face away from her, a look of disgust on his face.

"And It just so happened that he was sleeping in my room after celebrating his success in the military exam. I couldn't pass up such a perfect opportunity, and I decided to save myself from disaster when I saw the soldiers approaching from the right side of the building. I screamed, and when the soldiers heard me, they broke down the door. I pretended I was being attacked and shouted, 'You devil, save me from the devil!' and they took him away."

"Didn't he try to defend himself?"

"No, he woke up like a fool, confused, not knowing what was happening. The soldiers didn't give him a chance, just took him right away."

Gzaf's face showed a mixture of disbelief and contempt, shocked at how far she'd gone. "And being his fiancée, you went with them to see the execution?"

"Yes, just like they always do," she said, pulling out a bottle of wine from under the table.

Gzaf felt a burning sensation in his heart, but he did not show any expression to it. He lit a cigarette and said: "And, what made that soldier hit you?" He asked in a cold tone, as though he was speaking to a stranger.

"Oh, as for that bastard, the reason I was there in the first place was because I didn't know my fiancé had a family inheritance. I was too stupid to realize the fortune that awaited me until his sister came and learned everything from her. I went there to save him because I wouldn't have access to his inheritance if he died, since we hadn't gotten married yet. But, damn it, even after playing the victim, that cold-eyed bastard ignored me, as if I wasn't human. Then that as*hole hit me from behind. I swear I will make him regret laying a hand on me." She stood up from her chair, her dress swaying at her sides.

"Are you looking for revenge?"

"Of course. No one lays a hand on me and gets away with it. I'm waiting for my strong, handsome brother to come and take care of both of them." She stroked her silky hair that was shaking after he responded with a tone full of pride.

The cigarette fell from Gzaf's mouth. "Are you serious about targeting the Dysar as well?"

After she left, swaying in her high heels as they clicked against the floor like a horse's hooves.

She turned back, flashing him a smile. "Did you forget who my brother is?"

He stared at the door, still shocked.

"You were good, Luvita, but I don't know if it's greed that makes a person stupid or his love of the pursuit of power, but it seems that his upbringing of you paid off."

He couldn't do anything. He couldn't advise her.

But thinking about the things she said so coldly, things that were the reason for the death of that young man he knew, made Gzaf angry.

Even though he had known her for a long time, part of his respect for her came from his fear of her brother.

The other part of him, however, definitely wanted to see justice applied to her to the fullest extent.

He got up from the chair and crushed the cigarette underfoot forcefully.

"Devil's sister," the words escaped his mouth, expressing what he truly felt.