Succulog #3: First mystery

It was a new day in Luka's house, and the late spring sun had already risen high, casting golden rays through the windows that illuminated the living room in a warm, inviting glow. The light danced across the walls, catching the faint dust particles in the air, giving the space a serene, almost magical quality. Morrigan, ever the early riser, was already up and fully immersed in her morning routine. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her focus entirely consumed by the retro gaming console Luka had dug out from his room. It had been a stroke of genius on his part—he'd quickly realized that keeping her occupied with something simple yet engaging was the best way to prevent her from growing restless or, worse, bored enough to start poking around the house. He'd chosen a straightforward, easy-to-learn game for her, something that wouldn't frustrate her too much but would still hold her attention.

She was dressed in the white T-shirt and blue jeans Luka had bought for her the day before. When he'd handed them to her, she had immediately taken a liking to the jeans, remarking on how much she enjoyed the deep blue color. However, she hadn't been shy about voicing her complaints about how tight they felt. "These are... restrictive," she had said, tugging at the fabric with a frown. Luka had chuckled, assuring her that jeans were supposed to fit snugly, but he made a mental note to find something more comfortable for her next time.

As she played, her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers deftly maneuvering the controller. Every now and then, she would let out a small, triumphant sound when she cleared a level or defeated an enemy, and Luka couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. There was something endearing about seeing someone so ancient, so magical in nature, getting so invested in something as mundane as a video game.

Meanwhile, he was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the buttery scent of toast. Being a light eater in the morning, he only took one and gave the rest to Alma Elma, who was sitting on the other side of the table, her eyes riveted on a book. 

A peaceful morning, how rare… Luka sighed internally, feeling the calm atmosphere soothe his restlessness. The sunlight streaming through the windows, the soft clatter of dishes, the occasional sound of Morrigan's muttered commentary as she played—it all combined to create an atmosphere that felt almost... normal. For once, there were no world-ending threats, no battles to fight, no schemes to unravel. Just a quiet morning with two very unusual housemates.

As he set the table, he glanced over at the blue-haired succubus. "Hey, Morrigan," he called out, "breakfast is ready. You can pause the game if you want."

"Just a few more minutes!" she replied, not even looking up. Her fingers moved furiously over the controller, her eyes locked on the screen. "I gotta beat this guy up!"

"She really is invested…" Luka chuckled, bewildered.

Alma Elma glanced up from her book and took a sip from a glass of orange juice. "Let her be, Luka. It's just her usual attitude."

Luka shook his head again, a small smile playing on his lips. With a soft hum of acknowledgment, he sat down in one of the chairs and pulled out his phone. Even in moments of peace, his work as a detective never truly stopped. He began scrolling through the local news, checking for any updates on ongoing cases or potential leads. He also glanced at his call log to see if he'd missed anything important while he was asleep. Thankfully, it seemed like the world had decided to give him a brief respite—no urgent messages or missed calls.

As he scrolled, however, something caught his eye. One of the local restaurants had been robbed during the night. Nothing too major, but Luka thought it was odd for a restaurant to be robbed of all places. 

Luka narrowed his eyes as he skimmed through the details of the article. Multiple restaurants had been hit in the past few nights, and the strange part wasn't just that only food had been stolen—it was that security cameras had caught nothing. No signs of forced entry, no footage of suspicious activity. It was as if the food had vanished into thin air.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against the table as he thought.

"Strange," he muttered under his breath.

Alma Elma, sensing his shift in focus, closed her book and glanced at him. "Something on your mind?"

Luka set his phone down and exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. Some restaurants have been getting robbed, but only food is being taken. And somehow, no one's getting caught on camera."

Alma Elma raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk creeping onto her lips. "Oh? Sounds like someone—or something—doesn't want to pay for their meals."

"In the middle of the night? That's odd." Luka said as he took a sip from his hot chocolate. 

The locations of the robberies were scattered, but they followed a similar pattern—small to mid-sized restaurants, no high-end places, and all happening around the same time at night.

It felt… coordinated.

His gut told him this wasn't just some desperate thief. 

"Maybe I should check one of these places out," he murmured.

Alma Elma rested her chin on her hand. "You think it's supernatural? You deal with magical affairs, right?"

"I don't know, but I'm not ruling it out," Luka admitted. "The fact that the cameras didn't catch anything is what's bugging me."

Morrigan finally paused her game, twisting her body to look at him. "Can I come too? I love playing detective!"

Luka gave her a flat look. "This isn't a game…"

For a split second, she actually looked disappointed. Her lips pressed together, her eyes flicking to the side like a sulking child.

Luka let out a long sigh. "…Fine. You can come. But don't harass people, don't start fights, and don't make this more complicated than it already is."

Morrigan beamed. "Yes! I call dibs on interrogations!"

Luka immediately regretted his decision. But perhaps her instincts as a succubus could prove helpful since Saki wasn't there to help him. 

Still, there was no turning back now. He groaned and downed the rest of his hot chocolate in a hurry before grabbing his jacket. 

As he stepped outside, Morrigan followed closely behind, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Hey, are we taking that car-thing you people use in this world?" she asked, her blue eyes shining with curiosity.

"Mine is still wrecked from the portal incident," Luka explained while locking the door. Alma Elma had another set of keys so it wasn't a problem. "So we can't use it until it's repaired."

Morrigan clicked her tongue. "Tch. That's lame. I wanted to see how it feels to be inside one of those weird metal boxes."

"Trust me, you're not missing much," Luka muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "We're taking the train."

"Oh, we have a train at home too!" 

Luka's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Really? Didn't see one when I was there."

Morrigan smirked. "Yeah, but I don't use it often. I usually just fly around. Way more convenient."

Luka let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, well, we don't have that luxury here. So you're gonna have to get used to public transport."

"Ugh, fine. But if it's boring, I'm flying back."

"Please don't do that I beg you." Luka deadpanned. "Otherwise hundreds of cameras are going to get us in trouble."

Morrigan frowned. "Humans have the weirdest rules."

Ignoring her complaints, Luka led the way to the train station, weaving through the bustling midday crowd. The sounds of the city surrounded them—car horns blaring, distant chatter, the rhythmic clicking of heels against the pavement.

As they reached the station, Morrigan's curiosity flared up again. She peered at the ticket machines, tilting her head. "So… do these little boxes decide who gets to ride?"

Luka sighed. "They just print tickets. You put money in, and they give you access to the train."

"Oh, I see! Anyone can ride this thing with a system like that!" 

"D-Don't you have tickets too?"

"Yeah but they're given to nobles," she explained. "Not everyone can use the train."

Luka blinked, momentarily stunned. "That's… kind of messed up."

Morrigan shrugged. "It's just how things are. I never thought much about it."

Before Luka could respond, a loud chime echoed through the station, followed by the rumble of an approaching train. The crowd surged forward, and Luka grabbed Morrigan's wrist to keep her from getting swept away.

She swiftly yanked it away with a click of her tongue, giving him an unimpressed look before following him inside.

The train was packed, the air thick with the scent of too many people crammed into one space like sardines in a box. Luka barely had time to steady himself before he was jostled forward by the movement of the crowd. Morrigan, meanwhile, somehow managed to maneuver effortlessly through the press of bodies, slipping into a spot near the door with a smirk.

"Wow," she chuckled. "You people actually choose to travel like this?"

Luka sighed, gripping one of the metal bars for support. "It's the fastest way to get to the center of the city."

"It can't be that far, right? Why do you need a train to travel in the same city?"

Right… Even Grand Noah wasn't that big if I remember correctly.

"Because the scale is different. This city has at least a hundred thousand people living there."

Morrigan tilted her head, clearly intrigued. "A hundred thousand? That's a lot of dudes…"

Luka nodded, looking around at the dense sea of people filling the train. "That's why flying around is not an option. You would get spotted easily."

The train suddenly screeched to a halt, throwing the entire car into chaos. Luka braced himself against the jolt, but Morrigan, as usual, managed to stay perfectly steady. However, the momentum caused a man standing nearby to stumble, and his booted foot landed squarely on Morrigan's heel.

Though it didn't hurt her, she still glared at the man in annoyance. "Hey! Watch where you step!" she shouted in the crowded train, making every eye turn to her.

The guy quickly muttered an apology, but Morrigan's glare didn't stop. She was about to use her aura on him when Luka swiftly grabbed her hand and shook his head to signal her to stop. 

"Huh? Why shouldn't I? This guy stepped on me!"

Luka's grip tightened on her wrist, his expression serious as he gave her a firm look. "Because we're in a public space, and everyone is looking at us!" he whispered urgently.

Morrigan looked around and met the gaze of multiple passengers who clearly looked uncomfortable. 

"Hey! All of you, mind your own business!"

Passengers flinched at the sudden outburst, and a few exchanged nervous glances. Luka felt a wave of heat rise to his cheeks as he quickly pulled her back toward the wall, trying to reduce the attention they were drawing.

"Morrigan, please!" he whispered urgently, keeping his voice low but firm. "Calm down!"

She huffed, her lips curling into a disdainful frown as she surveyed the other passengers, who quickly turned their heads away, pretending not to notice her.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal. I've got every right to defend myself," she muttered, though she lowered her voice, sensing the growing unease around them.

Luka sighed in relief upon seeing her actually listening. He held the metal bar tightly and they soon arrived at their destination. 

Perhaps I should order a taxi to come back home…

"So, this is the center of your city?" she asked, her tone lighter now that they were free of the cramped train.

Luka nodded, gesturing for her to follow as he stepped off the train. "Yeah. Let's get out of the station first. The restaurant's not far from here."

With a brief, quiet nod, Morrigan followed his lead, stepping into the flowing crowd. Outside the station, the world felt different—slightly quieter, with people going about their daily routines. The streets were a little less congested than the packed subway cars, with folks strolling casually into cafés or browsing the eclectic mix of shops lining the sidewalks. The air was crisp, and a few early morning commuters bustled past on their way to work, their faces focused and hurried.

Luka led the way, navigating through the crowd with ease. Morrigan stayed close, but her gaze was constantly shifting, clearly taking everything in.

"There's so many shops here. I should bring my sisters here," Morrigan mused aloud, her eyes catching on a particular store sign. A green cross. "Hey, what's this?"

"A pharmacy," Luka replied, glancing at the shop.

"I should bring big sis here, then…" she grimaced, thinking of her red-haired sister.

As they walked, Luka noticed a nearby vendor selling pastries. His stomach growled, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. The restaurant wasn't far, nestled between a row of shops. The sign was simple, just a handwritten name scrawled on a wooden board. It looked cozy and unassuming—an odd target for a robbery.

"Here we are," Luka said, pointing to the entrance. "Let's see what happened here."

Morrigan's eyes sparkled with interest, her grin widening like a child before a new adventure. "So you're doing your detective work, huh? I always loved mysteries!" Her enthusiasm was contagious.

"Let's just hope it's not too much work," Luka shook his head, half-amused, half-exasperated. 

After putting on some goves, he pushed open the door casually, leading them inside. The space was small but charming, with dim lighting and rustic décor. As soon as they entered, a waiter approached them with a warm smile.

"A place for two?" the waiter asked, his tone friendly.

Luka nodded, but then, before the waiter could lead them further, Luka pulled out his badge from his jacket pocket and showed it to him.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could give a hand. I heard you were robbed."

The waiter's smile faltered, replaced by a brief flicker of unease. He hesitated but didn't ask any further questions. Instead, he gestured for them to follow. "Of course, please come with me. The manager will be able to explain better."

Luka exchanged a glance with Morrigan, who seemed delighted by the sudden turn of events. She was practically bouncing with excitement.

They were led backstage to the kitchen, which was an absolute whirlwind of activity. Pots and pans clattered, chefs shouted orders over the noise, and the kitchen was littered with the remnants of a hasty cleanup. It was chaotic, to say the least.

"The police already conducted an investigation earlier this morning," the waiter said, his voice uncertain. "Are you sure you still want to have a look?"

Luka gave a brief nod. "Yeah, I just want to take a quick look, that's it."

Before the waiter could respond, a harsh voice interrupted them. The manager, a tall, burly man with a scowl, stormed into the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze locked on Luka with a cold glare.

"I'm saying no," the manager growled, his voice rough. "I don't have money to pay you. Now get out."

Morrigan took a step forward. "Hey! We're trying to help here!"

Luka held up a hand, subtly signaling Morrigan to back off. "It's fine," he said to the manager, his voice calm but firm. "I'm not here for money. I just want to make sure the investigation was thorough. Perhaps the police missed something."

The manager grunted, clearly uninterested, but didn't tell them to leave again. He shot a dirty look at the waiter, who was visibly uncomfortable but didn't say a word.

After a long, heavy silence, the manager let out a reluctant sigh. "Fine. You get ten minutes. More than that and you're going to bother our first clients."

Luka gave a short nod, signaling to Morrigan that they could proceed. As they stepped further into the kitchen, the waiter lingered near the door, watching them nervously.

The kitchen was a mess, with half-cleaned countertops and overturned chairs. Remnants of food were scattered everywhere on the floor, as well as kitchen wares. Luka began inspecting the area, his eyes scanning every inch for anything that seemed out of place.

Morrigan wandered off, her eyes flashing as she explored the clutter. She crouched down near the back door, where the restaurant's deliveries came in. "Luka, I think I found something."

Luka turned and moved toward her. He crouched beside her as she pointed to a certain thin black unidentified object stuck below the door. It was so thin, like paper, and felt dry to the touch.

He carefully examined the thin black object between his fingers. It was too stiff to be paper, but its texture was unfamiliar. He unfolded it carefully, revealing a small, oddly shaped fragment, dark and brittle, as though it had been left to dry out.

"Not paper," Luka muttered to himself, his brow furrowing. He held it up to the light, trying to discern any markings or features that might give him a clue as to what it was. But there was nothing. It was simply dark, dry, and oddly unremarkable in a way that made it feel suspicious.

Morrigan leaned in, her sharp eyes narrowing as she examined the fragment. "Could be part of something bigger," she suggested, her voice low. "But what could it have been?"

Luka didn't answer immediately. His mind was already racing. The fragment had clearly been left in a hurry, as if whoever had dropped it didn't want to leave any trace. 

"Let's check the rest of the room," Luka said finally, slipping the fragment into his jacket pocket. "We need to find out what happened here."

They moved cautiously through the storage room, careful not to disturb anything too much. The space was in even worse condition than the kitchen. Shelves were toppled, their contents spilled across the floor. The fridges had been ransacked, their doors hanging open, and the faint hum of their motors was the only sound in the otherwise eerie silence.

Morrigan smirked as she stepped inside, her nose wrinkling slightly. "What's wrong?" Luka asked, noticing her expression.

"Oh, it just smells like imps in here," she answered flatly, her eyes scanning the room.

"Imps?"

"Yeah, these little rascals have a particular scent," she said with a smile. "I'm smelling some traces of it."

Luka glanced around the room again, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on anything unusual. He wasn't sure whether to take Morrigan's claim seriously, but he couldn't just ignore it. The robbery had been messy, almost chaotic, as if the perpetrators had no real plan.

"So, you think these imps had something to do with the robbery?" he asked, moving toward the other side of the room where a stack of crates had been overturned.

"Could be," she replied with a shrug, standing and brushing off her hands. "Imps are known for causing trouble."

In a sense, she might be right. The robbery was done hastily and clearly unprofessionally. There were traces of it everywhere. 

He crouched down near a fridge, yet it was clear the police had already taken every evidence possible already. With a determined look, he pulled out a talisman from his jacket and put it on the floor.

"Whatcha doing with that?" Morrigan asked, strutting over to him.

"Scanning the room for any trace of magical energy," Luka explained, his voice low and focused. He placed the talisman on the floor, positioning it carefully. "If something of a magical nature was here—like an imp, for example—then I'll get a feedback pulse."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Shouldn't I leave the room, then? Don't want my dazzling aura messing with your little toy."

"Yes, please," Luka said without looking up. His attention was fully on the talisman now, his fingers hovering just above it as he began to channel his focus.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Fine, fine, I'll go check the kitchen." She turned and walked off, clearly unfazed by Luka's request.

Luka placed the talisman flat on the floor, focusing his attention as the small object began to pulse faintly, its carvings glowing with an ethereal light. The room felt oddly still, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the corner.

The seconds dragged on, but then, just as he began to doubt the process, the talisman flickered. A subtle, barely perceptible pulse of energy rippled outward, and Luka's eyes snapped to attention. He could feel the feedback, a faint, but unmistakable trace of magic lingering in the air. It wasn't much, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions.

The talisman buzzed in response, and Luka carefully studied the direction the energy came from. It led him toward the back corner of the room, near where the fridge had been ransacked. 

Morrigan's voice called from the kitchen, distracting him for a moment. "Find anything yet, detective?"

Luka's gaze stayed fixed on the corner as he knelt down, tracing the faint magical residue on the floor with his fingers. "Yeah," he said, his voice low.

He moved closer to the spot, his gloved hands brushing aside debris and broken glass. The fridge had been shoved aside, revealing a small, dark space behind it. And there, lying on the ground, was a tail—short, scaly, and unmistakably not human. It was black and leathery, with a faint sheen that caught the light.

Morrigan peeked over his shoulder, her presence sudden but not unwelcome. "Yup," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "That's the tail of an imp, all right."

Luka picked up the black paper-like object he found and compared it with the tail. It was the same texture, but just the skin of it that had been shed for some reason. 

"Our robbers are imps?" Luka said, his voice tinged with disbelief. He'd dealt with plenty of strange cases before, but this was a first. "Since when do imps commit robberies?"

Morrigan shrugged, her smirk returning. "Since forever. They're mischievous little devils. Maybe they were just hungry. Or maybe they were hired by someone. Either way, they're not exactly masterminds. Look at this mess—they probably got distracted halfway through and started throwing things at each other."

"Huh, you're more reliable than I thought," Luka turned his head to her.

"Hey! I'm wise you know?! I'm over a thousand years old!"

"You don't exactly look ancient," Luka teased, then sighed and carefully placed the tail and the shed skin into an evidence bag. "We're done here. If what you're saying is true, someone's sending these imps to ransack restaurants."

"That's it? It was quick."

Luka zipped up the evidence bag and stood, his gaze drifting to the narrow back door that led into the alley behind the restaurant. "Yeah. For now, anyway. I'm going to have to wait until nightfall to catch these little demons in the act."

He adjusted his jacket and started walking toward the exit. As they stepped into the dimly lit alley, Luka paused, his eyes scanning the surroundings. This was probably the route the imps had taken to enter the restaurant.

But something still nagged at him—the one detail that didn't add up: the cameras.

Imps weren't vampires or creatures that couldn't be seen in mirrors. There was no reason for them to be invisible to the cameras, especially when they had a wide coverage area. So why hadn't they been caught on tape?

Luka's eyes narrowed as he focused on the security camera mounted above. The camera was supposed to cover both the restaurant's back door and the entrance to a house further down the alley.

Wait a second.

Luka's gaze flicked back and forth between the camera and the door, a realization dawning on him.

"There's a blind spot…" he muttered to himself.

The camera, despite its wide field of view, was positioned a bit lower than it should have been. It was just enough that something small—like an imp—could open the door without being clearly seen. The angle was off, and the security footage would have shown only a sliver of the doorway, allowing an agile imp to slip through unnoticed.

Morrigan, noticing his shift in focus, stepped closer. "What is it?"

"Look at the camera," Luka said, his voice low but determined. "It's positioned wrong. The coverage doesn't account for someone small enough to slip through unnoticed."

"I doubt imps are smart enough to realize that…"

"Shh, are you hearing this?" Luka immediately put up a finger to his mouth and turned his head toward the main street. 

There were shouts coming from there. 

With cautious steps, he decided to peek over the corner, his heart jumping in his throat.

"Fresh food for everyone!"

"Buy our Team Rouge uniforms!"

A bunch of obvious succubi all wearing the same clothes had installed a stall right in front of the restaurant and began selling fresh food and uniforms. The passers-by stopped, looking either confused or amused by their antics.

Luka's brow furrowed as he took in the scene. The succubi, dressed in matching red uniforms, were practically radiating enthusiasm as they called out to pedestrians, luring in curious customers. It wasn't just the bizarre nature of the setup that threw him off—it was the timing.

"Team Rouge?" Luka muttered under his breath. "That name ring any bells to you?"

Morrigan looked as confused as him. "No idea…"

The detective watched as one of the succubi practically shoved a fresh sandwich into a man's hands before winking at him. The poor guy fumbled for his wallet like he'd been struck by lightning.

"Okay, I'll bite," Luka murmured. "What's their game?"

He stepped forward, adjusting his jacket as he approached the stall. The succubi immediately turned their attention to him, all too eager to welcome a new customer.

"Welcome to Team Rouge's pop-up shop!" one of them chirped, flashing a dazzling smile. "Looking for a bite to eat? Maybe a new look? We've got the best deals in town! Unfortunately, you're a guy so you can't join us!"

Luka crossed his arms, his expression neutral. "You're selling food. Right outside a restaurant that just got robbed. Suspicious timing, don't you think?"

The succubi exchanged glances, their smiles never faltering. "Oh, we're just filling a market need," one purred, resting her elbow on the stall. "People gotta eat, and we're more than happy to provide."

He felt a slight push on his legs, and then heard some footsteps to his left.

"Hey!" Morrigan shouted behind him. "Luka! I saw an imp steal your wallet!"

His head snapped to his legs and he saw a small kid running full throttle between the people's legs with a wallet in her hand. 

However what made him sweat in terror was the way she was walking around with barely any clothes and her horns, wings, and tail in sight.

A woman nearby chuckled, tilting her head. "Oh, look, what a cute little cosplayer."

Luka felt his frustration spike. "Oh, come on!"

Without wasting another second, he bolted after her, dodging past confused pedestrians. The imp was fast, slipping between legs and under tables like a mischievous shadow. Morrigan, barely breaking a sweat, kept pace beside him.

The imp glanced back mid-sprint, meeting Luka's eyes. Her lips curled into a cheeky grin. Then, as if she was taking up more speed, she headed for the next alleyway. 

"Not happening," Luka muttered, his legs momentarily being reinforced with magic to keep up. 

Morrigan, keeping pace beside him with an infuriating lack of effort, sighed. "You're really letting a toddler outrun you?"

"Not now, Morrigan," Luka gritted out.

The three of them entered the alleyway, but they were met by an all too predictable sight. There, he saw the little imp give the wallet to another girl costumed in red, a big 'r' letter drawn on its front. Another succubus was standing next to her, busy counting the bills.

"Good job, Romi," the uniformed succubus cooed, patting the imp's head like a proud older sister. Then, as if just noticing Luka and Morrigan, she turned toward them with an exaggerated gasp.

Oh my god, don't tell me….

"Oh no! We've been caught!" she pointed at Luka. 

Luka exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

Morrigan, however, let out a snort. "Wow, they're really bad at this."

The second succubus, catching the jab, quickly straightened up and nudged her companion. Without missing a beat, the two of them suddenly burst into synchronized motion, twirling in place before striking what could only be described as the most ridiculous pose Luka had ever seen.

"We are Team Rouge! " the succubus on the right declared, throwing her arms high above her head with a dramatic flourish.

"Now that you've seen us, we can't let you get away!" the other chimed in, mirroring the gesture.

Then, without hesitation, they crossed their arms together in front of them in an exaggerated 'X' shape.

"Prepare to suffer first and get pleasured later!" they shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the alley.

Finally, in an impressive display of coordination—and sheer absurdity—they extended their legs in opposite directions, forming a bizarre, contorted shape that vaguely resembled a giant 'R' with a cross through the middle.

Luka stared.

Morrigan blinked.

A tense silence stretched between them.

Finally, Luka dragged a hand down his face. Oh my god. They're just like the three idiots from last time…

Morrigan crossed her arms. "Okay, so... do we take them seriously, or—?"

"No," Luka deadpanned.

The lead succubus's confident grin faltered. "H-Hey! You're supposed to be in awe!"

"Yeah! Tremble before the might of Team Rouge!" the other added.

Morrigan frowned, her expression caught somewhere between mild disgust and second-hand embarrassment. "I swear, modern succubi are weird."

Luka pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Enough of this. Just give me back my wallet before I lose my patience."

"No!" the succubi shouted in unison. Then, in perfect synchronization, they pointed at Luka.

The lead succubus flicked her wrist toward the imp, her voice rising with theatrical flair. "Romi, I choose you!"

The little imp perked up instantly, flashing a mischievous grin before darting forward, her tiny wings flaring.

"Oh, this is just like that game I played yesterday night," Morrigan noted with a smile.

"What is this… Succumon?!"

The succubi, clearly reveling in their absurdity, took up what looked like battle stances—legs apart, arms raised, eyes burning with the determination of people who took themselves way too seriously.

The imp, emboldened by their enthusiasm, crouched low, tail flicking with anticipation.

Luka sighed. "Great. We're really doing this."

"I've got an idea," Morrigan smirked, her hand twirling dangerously close to Luka. 

A sense of foreboding crawled up his spine. "Oh no—"

"Minimum Phantasm!" Morrigan shot her spell at Luka, shrinking him to almost the same size as the imp in the blink of an eye. Then, with a shark-like smile, she pointed at the imp in a dramatic pose. "Luka, I choose you!"

Romi's jaw dropped, her wings twitching. The succubi gasped audibly.

Luka, still processing what had just happened, slowly turned his head up to glare at Morrigan. "What. Did. You. Do."

Morrigan beamed. "Leveling the playing field."

One of the succubi clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my gosh! A real SuccuMon battle! This is amazing!"

The other nodded enthusiastically. "Let's see which tiny fighter reigns supreme!"

Romi's initial shock quickly melted into excitement. She cracked her knuckles, her tail flicking like an eager cat. "Alright, tiny man, let's see what you got!"

"Oh right, forgot this." 

Luka barely had time to process his new size when Morrigan suddenly reached behind her and—

"Wait, what are you—?!"

With an unsettlingly enthusiastic grin, she produced a succubus tail seemingly out of nowhere and, before Luka could react, shoved it right up his butt.

His entire body jolted like he'd been struck by lightning.

"GYAH—!?"

Morrigan clapped her hands together, thoroughly pleased with herself. "Now you're an imp just like her! Ahahaha!"

"Ahaha! You're an imp too!" Romi pointed at him with a stupid face.

The succubi watching from the sidelines were now absolutely losing their minds, clapping and cheering.

"This is amazing!"

"Luka the Imp versus Romi the Imp! A battle of the ages!"

Meanwhile, Luka's eye twitched as he very, very slowly turned to look at Morrigan, murder in his now much tinier gaze.

"Morrigan." His voice was eerily calm. "You have three seconds to reverse this before I make you regret every decision you've ever made."

"Oh come on! Fight now my little imp!"

Luka's eye twitched again, an almost animalistic growl rumbling in his throat. He was tiny, surrounded by laughing succubi and a smug imp.

"Luka! Use Thunder!" Morrigan's voice rang out like a battle cry from the sidelines.

"Shut up!" he shouted in response as he lunged forward.

Romi, completely overconfident, charged forward with a mischievous squeal.

You want thunder? I'll give you thunder…

He was glad his jacket was shrunk to the same size as him. With this, he could pull out some talismans and work his magic. 

With a quick and expert movement, he threw the talisman in the air, creating a tiny bolt of lightning straight to the imp. Romi's confident laughter turned into a sharp yelp as she began shaking violently from the shock until her skin turned into charcoal.

The succubi watching from the sidelines froze, jaws dropped.

"Did he just—?" one of them gasped.

Luka's smirk returned, though this time there was a dangerous edge to it. "You wanted thunder? Here it is."

He then picked up another talisman. "Now give me back my wallet, and yours at the same time!"

Meanwhile, far from there, somewhere on Route 66, California…

The coordinates of her summoning were somehow wrong. She had arrived far from her supposed mission.

A figure clad in full black leather sped down the highway on a roaring motorbike. The wind howled past, whipping through their helmeted hair as they expertly navigated the sharp bends and long stretches of the road. The bike's engine rumbled like a beast in the desert night, the sound reverberating through the empty vastness.

Her eyes, hidden behind a sleek visor, were sharp, calculating, every movement of the bike deliberate as she weaved through the desolate stretches of Route 66. She wasn't just a rider—she was a succubus, accustomed to moving unseen through the world. But right now, she was on a mission.

An insignia on her leather jacket, she headed toward the nearest airport. Time was tight, and she had an important business to handle. She was a woman that always did her job, after all.

With a final twist of the throttle, she surged forward, the wind tugging at her long dark hair, the engine growling beneath her as it reached its limits.

But then, without warning, she slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched against the bitumen, and she came to a halt just inches from a small girl with white hair standing in her path.

"How fortunate to find a ride," the girl—Vinum—chuckled. "Would you mind taking me in? I have a place to go."

The woman immediately recognized the demonic nature of the girl in front of her. She pointed her thumb backward, indicating to sit on the back of the bike.

"Much appreciated," Vinum grinned before effortlessly climbing on, settling in comfortably.

Without missing a beat, the woman twisted the throttle, and they were off again.

To the horizon, where trouble brewed.