Chapter 120: Dorothy—Elegance is Timeless, Even When Hunting Prey.
The afterglow of the setting sun cast an orange-red glow over the entire campus parking lot, stretching shadows long across the pavement.
Edward looked at the uninvited guest before him, his mind racing.
Dorothy.
The stunning demoness from the Underworld, summoned by that cultist nanny.
What was she doing here? And specifically waiting for him?
He could feel the undisguised, vast, abyss-like dark power radiating from her, and... a hint of playful amusement, like a cat spotting an interesting mouse.
"Edward Connor," Dorothy repeated his name, her crimson lips curving into an alluring arc, her voice possessing a peculiar quality that seemed to scrape directly against one's soul. "Why haven't you come to see me all this time?"
She asked with such confidence, as if there were some standing agreement between them.
Edward raised an eyebrow, hands in his pockets, and looked her up and down with a lazy expression. "See you? Why would I see you? Are we even acquainted?"
"Hehe..." Dorothy let out a low, melodious laugh. She took two steps forward, her high heels clicking sharply on the asphalt, each click-click sounding like it landed directly on a heartbeat.
"Not acquainted?" She tilted her head, her pale, almost translucent face framed by deep-set eyes that seemed to see through everything. She savored the word, then extended an index finger tipped with black nail polish and gently pointed it toward Edward's chest.
Her movement wasn't fast, but Edward felt the air around him solidify, invisible pressure locking him in place.
He could have dodged, but he didn't.
Her cold fingertip touched the fabric over his chest, and a chilling aura instantly radiated from it, but was silently neutralized by the Power of Purification and Holy Light within him.
A flicker of imperceptible surprise crossed Dorothy's eyes, then her interest deepened even more.
"Oh, stronger again." She withdrew her hand, her posture as elegant as if attending a Victorian ball. "So, interesting one, do you have any plans for Christmas?"
"Huh?" Edward hadn't expected her to ask that.
"If not," Dorothy's smile widened, revealing perfectly white teeth that contrasted sharply with her crimson lips, "why not come visit me?"
"Visit you?" Edward feigned confusion. "A field trip to Hell? Sorry, not interested in sulfur fumes and lava hot tubs."
"No, no, no, the Underworld is not the Hell of those barbarians." Dorothy was unfazed by his sarcasm, instead extending a formal invitation. "Come to the Underworld, be my guest."
If anyone else at the school had heard that, they'd probably think they'd encountered a complete nutjob.
But Edward knew she was dead serious.
He was silent for a moment, then decisively shook his head without even bothering to make an excuse. He simply turned and started walking toward his Fenrir motorcycle.
"I'm not ready to die yet, so no thanks. Later."
Just as Edward seemed genuinely about to leave, Dorothy's voice drifted over again, carrying a hint of seduction.
"You don't have to die to go."
Edward's steps abruptly halted.
He slowly turned around, genuine curiosity appearing on his face for the first time.
"Oh?" He looked at Dorothy again, his eyes filled with interest. "I'm listening. Explain."
Seeing that she'd successfully hooked his attention, Dorothy's smile grew even more satisfied.
"Simple. I'll open a 'door' for you. You can enter with your current body as a 'living being' and come out unharmed," she explained. "Of course, you won't be going for nothing."
"I knew it." Edward wore an 'I-thought-so' expression. "Alright, what do you need?"
A hint of seriousness entered Dorothy's smile. "Here's the situation—a living person recently arrived in the Underworld. His soul is like a beacon in the darkness to me—delicious and sweet. I need you to help me catch him."
"A living person?" Edward frowned. "Wandered in by accident?"
"Perhaps, but that's irrelevant." Dorothy lightly tossed her waterfall of black hair. "What matters is he's currently in the Underworld, and I need him."
Edward folded his arms across his chest, looking at her with an 'are-you-serious' expression. "Are you confused about something? Your power is top-tier among everyone I've encountered. Catching one living person should be a snap of your fingers. Why do you need me?"
"Because..." A subtle change appeared in Dorothy's expression—a mix of reluctance and helplessness. "Christmas is coming, and I... have a performance, so it's inconvenient for me to act personally."
Edward's expression froze.
He poked his ear, seriously wondering if he was hearing things.
A performance?
A series of images instantly formed in his mind: a gloomy altar, blood-red runes, countless wailing spirits, and Dorothy standing in the center, chanting world-ending incantations...
"Ahem," Edward cleared his throat, tentatively asking, "What kind of performance? Summoning an ancient evil god? A prelude to the apocalypse?"
Dorothy rolled her eyes at him, her enchanting manner enough to make any man's heart race, but what she said next completely shattered Edward's worldview.
"Christmas concert."
Edward: "..."
He fell silent. Completely silent.
Something in this universe was seriously broken.
"The Underworld... celebrates Christmas?" He felt every word was exceptionally difficult to say.
"Of course," Dorothy replied matter-of-factly, even with a hint of pride. "Not only do we celebrate, we do it big. After all, this is also an important 'soul harvest season.' This year's headliner is even a legendary singer from Transylvania."
Edward's brain completely short-circuited.
Transylvania... legendary singer?
The information overload was too much. He felt his CPU was about to melt.
"Wow." He could only manage that one dry word, then forcibly dragged his thoughts back on track. "Alright, even if your holiday traditions are... eclectic. What's in it for me?"
"Payment, naturally." Dorothy seemed to have anticipated his question. She looked at Edward confidently and slowly said two words.
"Something good."
"What is it?" Edward's interest was piqued. Anything this level of being called "something good" was definitely extraordinary.
Dorothy looked at him, her unfathomable eyes glinting with strange light. She spoke each word slowly, in an almost lyrical tone, uttering the name that instantly made Edward's brain crash.
"Holy water."
The air seemed to freeze at that moment.
Edward's expression stiffened, and he was completely petrified on the spot.
He suspected something was wrong with his ears.
Holy water?
A gorgeous demoness from the Underworld, radiating pure darkness and evil from head to toe, clearly not from any righteous faction, said she wanted to give him... holy water?
Did she misunderstand what "holy water" meant? Or had Hell started diversifying its business, expanding into the divine market?
Three enormous question marks slowly appeared over Edward's head.
???
This was like a serial arsonist earnestly offering you a fire extinguisher, or a career hitman compassionately urging you to join a peace movement.
The cognitive dissonance had shattered the stratosphere!
"You... what did you say?" Edward finally found his voice, though it sounded a bit strangled.
Dorothy looked at his gobsmacked expression, seeming very pleased. Her crimson lips curved slightly upward as she repeated clearly, "Holy water. The highest quality kind—made from the tears of genuine saints mixed with Heaven's morning dew, blessed by an Archangel, not that diluted crap priests mix with tap water in churches."
Perfect! She even provided detailed product specifications and authenticity guarantees.
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