18 In the Grip of Darkness.

It has been 10 days since Emily's father went missing. During this time, Lucifer tried his best to engage Emily in different ways, using humor to divert her attention from her missing father. However, his attempts at being funny were not very successful, yet initially, he managed to get Emily to participate. But as the days went by, Emily gradually lost interest in these forced funny conversations. Recently, she stopped talking to anyone altogether, and the main reason for this change was a person named Frederick.

Just as Lucifer was thinking about Frederick, the man entered Emily's room once again.

"Ah, you're still here, you pathetic girl. How much longer are you going to leech off my hospitality?" Frederick's voice dripped with disdain as he glared at Emily.

Emily, aware of Frederick's presence and his hurtful words, chose to ignore him. She knew that engaging with him would only fuel his cruelty.

"I tolerate your presence in my house out of respect for my mother. But let me be clear, I despise having filthy, worthless creatures like you anywhere near me, let alone living in my home," Frederick continued, his tone laced with disgust.

Seeing Emily's lack of response, Frederick decided it was futile to waste any more words on her. He turned to leave the room but couldn't resist delivering one final blow.

"And as for your peasant of a father, let me enlighten you. My mother, being too kind-hearted, hasn't had the courage to tell you the truth. But since I'm such a courageous individual, I'll spell it out for you. He's already dead, so don't get your hopes up. Now, scurry back to your wretched home," Frederick spat out, his words as harsh as ever.

Lucifer's non-existent blood seemed to boil as he heard Frederick's venomous words. He understood that although Emily appeared unaffected on the surface, the mention of her father in such a demeaning manner always caused her to break down in tears for hours afterward.

Lucifer held a deep-seated animosity towards this reprehensible individual, driven not only by the way he mistreated Emily but also by the annoyance he caused and the obstruction he posed to Lucifer's objective of bringing happiness to Emily.

Although he longed to beat him, he lacked the necessary means to accomplish it. As his mind wandered, envisioning various ways to extract revenge, he was abruptly interrupted by a piercing "ding!" The sound evoked a chilling and eerie smile that slowly spread across Lucifer's face.

[Due to an unknown error, the full version of the system will only be unlocked upon evolving to 'Devil'.]

[The basic version of the system has been reawakened.]

'Another error? Well, that's what I would expect from my system.'

'Anyway, it is stating that the basic version has been reawakened. Does that mean I can finally use my skills again?'

'System Status'

[System Status Window]

[Name: Lucifer]

[Race: Ghost]

[Stats]

Energy: 100/100

Soul Points: 0 points

Madness: 50/100

[Skills]

Ghostly Vision {E}

Weaker Telekinesis {E}

Mirror Connection {E}

Weak Illusions {E}

Upon realizing that he could utilize his skills again, Lucifer was on the verge of seeking vengeance against the detestable Fredrick. However, another intriguing idea presented itself to him, prompting him to choose an alternate course of action.

.....

With frustration brewing inside him, Frederick grumbled inwardly as he ascended the stairs towards his room. "What a waste of my time, to think that one day I would live under the same roof as the child of some servant."

Lately, anger had consumed Frederick, fueled by various factors. One of them was his mother's constant praise of William. It irked Frederick deeply that William possessed more talent in martial arts than he did, as if it were a birthright bestowed upon him. In contrast, Frederick believed his intelligence was his own accomplishment. He had resolved to prove to everyone that his intellect surpassed the worth of martial talent, channeling it into gambling. Unfortunately, luck had not been on his side these past few days, resulting in the loss of some money. Nonetheless, Frederick remained undeterred, convinced that he would soon recoup his losses and regain his financial standing.

Frederick, feeling the weight of the upcoming encounter, positioned himself in front of the mirror. He examined his appearance meticulously, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and adjusting his collar with exaggerated precision. Today was the day when his fate would be sealed—would he bask in glory or fade into mediocrity? He had a crucial meeting ahead, one that held the key to his financial prospects. Borrowing money from this person was his only hope.

As he was about to turn around, he caught a glimpse of something peculiar in the corner of his eye. His reflection in the mirror seemed to be staring back at him, frozen in a state of shock.

A shiver ran down his spine, and his heart skipped a beat. He quickly turned towards the mirror, only to find his reflection back to normal.

"Heh, am I seeing things now? I must be quite tired," he muttered, trying to dismiss the strange occurrence.

Just as he spoke those words, the door slammed shut with a deafening bang, causing Frederick's heart to leap into his throat.

The suddenness of the sound left him startled for a moment, his hand instinctively clutching his chest. "Must be the wind," he rationalized, regaining his composure as he opened the door and made his way downstairs to have dinner before heading to the meeting.

As usual, he headed towards his designated seat at the dining table. Although no one else was present, he preferred to keep his things separate.

Just as he was about to sit down, he inexplicably missed the chair, landing on the floor with an undignified thud.

His face flushed with embarrassment, but he swiftly rose to his feet, determined not to let anyone witness his clumsy misstep.

He scanned the room for the chair, only to find it pushed far back from where it should have been.

"How did it end up so far back? Did I inadvertently push it in frustration?" he pondered, his mind growing increasingly unsettled.

"What is happening to me today?" he whispered.

Lost in his contemplation, his dinner arrived. Taking the first bite, he immediately noticed that the taste lacked salt.

Anger welled up within him, and without thinking, he lashed out at the girl who had served the meal.

"What is this rubbish? Did you even bother to add salt? Go and bring me some immediately!" His voice carried a tone of hostility, the weight of his bad day fueling his outburst.

The girl hurriedly scurried away, returning promptly with a dish of salt, not uttering a single word.

He quickly added a pinch to his food, shooting the girl a menacing glare as a silent warning.

As he took another bite, his mouth was assaulted by an overwhelming amount of salt, causing him to retch and spit out the food in disgust.

Confusion washed over him. He glanced at the dish containing the salt, only to find it empty.

"Did I unknowingly pour an entire dish of salt? How could I not have noticed it while mixing?" he questioned himself, his mind racing to make sense of the inexplicable events.

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, he noticed the maid still standing there, witnessing his embarrassing display.

Consumed by frustration and humiliation, he impulsively raised his hand to slap her, seeking to vent his anger. However, his slap missed entirely, and he stumbled forward, falling onto the floor once again, his face meeting the unforgiving surface.

With a mix of humiliation and pain, he quickly regained his footing, his face burning with shame. Determined to escape the mounting humiliation of the evening, he hastened to his room.

Upon reaching the door, he discovered it closed once more. He pushed against it, but it refused to yield, as if resisting his every effort. Perplexed and on edge, he summoned all his strength, exerting a forceful push that caused the door to swing open abruptly.

Caught off balance, Frederick lost his footing yet again, crashing face-first into the floor, his nose now gushing blood.

As Frederick wiped the blood from his nose, he felt a chilling presence closing in on him. The air grew heavy with an oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of his own labored breathing. Shadows danced along the walls, twisting and contorting as if mocking his every move. The once-familiar room transformed into a labyrinth of darkness, the walls closing in on him with every passing moment.

A cold breeze brushed against his wounded face, causing his blood to congeal and sending shivers down his spine. Whispers, barely audible, echoed through the chamber, their source unknown and yet seemingly emanating from all directions. The words were distorted, distorted into a sinister chorus of malevolent laughter.

The flickering candle on the nearby table suddenly extinguished, plunging the room into complete darkness. Panic gripped Frederick's heart as he fumbled in the blackness, desperately searching for any source of light or escape. The floor seemed to shift beneath his feet, causing him to stumble and fall repeatedly, each impact adding to the pain that consumed him.

A dim, ethereal glow emerged from the corner of the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Frederick's eyes widened with terror as he saw a figure standing there, cloaked in darkness. It was the unmistakable silhouette of Emily's father, his eyes glowing with a malevolence that sent a chill down Frederick's spine.

With each step the figure took, the room seemed to warp and twist, distorting reality itself. The walls became adorned with grotesque paintings, depicting scenes of torment and suffering. The floor turned into a writhing mass of snakes, his every step met with a hiss and a slither. Frederick's mind was assaulted by macabre visions, his sanity teetering on the edge of collapse.

He tried to scream, but his voice was silenced, trapped within his constricted throat. The figure moved closer, its presence oppressive and suffocating. Frederick's heart raced, pounding against his ribcage as if desperately seeking an escape. The weight of his past transgressions bore down upon him, each act of cruelty and torment flooding his mind in a relentless barrage.

As the figure stood mere inches away, Frederick could feel the weight of its gaze upon him. Eyes filled with vengeance and unyielding fury bore into his soul, stripping away every facade of power and superiority he had clung to for so long. The realization of his own insignificance overwhelmed him, reducing him to a trembling, pitiful wreck.

In the midst of his terror, a voice, cold and distant, whispered in his ear. "You have tormented and terrorized an innocent child. Now, the time has come for you to face the consequences of your actions." The words echoed through Frederick's mind, driving him further into the depths of his own guilt and remorse.

Suddenly, the room erupted into a cacophony of haunting laughter, as if the walls themselves were mocking his downfall.

With a sudden jolt, his eyes flew open, and an ear-piercing scream tore through his trembling lips. Terror and fear gripped his entire being as he frantically scanned his surroundings. But to his dismay, everything appeared normal. There was no sign of Emily's father, no trace of the suffocating darkness that had haunted his nightmare. He was utterly alone.

"It was just a dream," he whispered, his voice quivering with a mix of relief and lingering unease. However, before he could fully settle his racing heart, a sharp pang of pain seared through his nose. His hand instinctively reached up to investigate, only to be met with the warm stickiness of his own blood. Panic coursed through his veins, causing his heart to pound faster and his breath to catch in his throat.

In a desperate attempt to gather himself, his gaze darted across the room until it landed upon a nearby mirror. With trembling limbs, he turned his head slowly, dread creeping up his spine. As his eyes met his reflection, time seemed to freeze. The blood drained from his face, his breath caught in his chest, and a paralyzing terror consumed him.

There, in the mirror's reflection, stood the figure of Emily's father, his visage contorted with malevolence and emptiness. Hollow eyes bore into his soul, stripping him of any sense of safety or sanity. A silent scream erupted within him, but no sound escaped his lips. Overwhelmed by the horrors before him, he crumpled to the floor, consciousness slipping away like a shadow.