Chapter 177 – Where Does This Confidence Come From?
United Kingdom – DEM Industries Headquarters
Sunlight streamed through the clouds, shining down on the towering skyscraper.
The massive glass walls of the building reflected the dazzling light like mirrors.
But beneath that brilliance… lurked an abyss of darkness.
This darkness was cold, ruthless, and stopped at nothing to achieve its goals.
It had only one instinct: to pursue its own twisted sense of pleasure.
Seated at a sleek desk, a man in a black suit flipped through documents with mild interest.
He was tall, with dull gray-blonde hair, and though he looked to be in his early thirties, he was well over fifty.
Still, compared to the Traveler's age, this little brat hadn't even lived one-tenth as long.
So… calling him old didn't quite fit either.
This was Westcott—one of the world's last remaining orthodox magicians.
Publicly, he held the title of Executive Director of DEM Industries.
In reality, he held all the power behind the scenes.
Westcott sat at his desk leisurely, sharp eyes scanning the documents in front of him.
As his eyes narrowed, his gaze became like a dagger gleaming with cold light.
A smile curled on his lips—like a wolf that had locked eyes on its prey.
Dangerous.
Predatory.
Sickeningly sinister.
"Ellen, what's your take on this?"
With his usual smile, Westcott turned to the stunning blonde woman behind him, dressed in a tailored secretary outfit that hugged her elegant figure.
"It's unexpected," the woman replied calmly. "The Spirits… actually working together? And this is the first recorded male Spirit, no less."
Her violet eyes shimmered with concern and uncertainty.
Ellen, the beautiful woman standing like a statue at his back, continued in her steady voice:
"I've encountered the one known as Nightmare before. Her abilities are bizarre.
As for this new male Spirit, even after deploying our satellites and assigning every intelligence operative from the Far East Division, we've only managed to collect scraps of worthless data."
"This suggests that he must've descended from the Neighboring World only recently."
Though DEM was officially just a corporation, in this world where Spirits were widely known to the public, the power and resources it could mobilize were nothing short of immense
While not quite on the same level as Schicksal in the Honkai World, DEM's influence far exceeded the imagination of most people.
After all, it was DEM Industries that provided Manifestation Devices to AST and the militaries of various nations!
These devices had been developed thirty years ago, modeled after the personal territory manipulation of the First Spirit—Mio Takamiya.
Modern artificial magicians used them as a source of magical power, forming their own territories.
In this world, "spirit energy" and "magic" were essentially the same thing—two forms of the same force.
Back then, the Three Sinners collected the planet's magic through Spirit rituals in order to create the First Spirit.
Spirit power—far surpassing magic in every way—was born from that process, becoming a higher-tier energy source.
Woodman, one of the Three Sinners and the founder of Ratatoskr, had also been among DEM's original founders.
Naturally, he also had access to the Manifestation Device tech.
But while Ratatoskr aimed for peaceful coexistence with Spirits and focused on neutralization, they never mass-produced such weapons.
Thus, DEM remained the world's primary supplier of Manifestation Devices.
"According to analysis," Ellen continued, "the entire lower level of the Neryl Island experimental base, including all researchers and most of the upper management, were infected by an unknown, horrifying virus. The result… a fate worse than death."
"But oddly enough," she added, "the guards stationed on the outskirts—who were reassigned there just recently—showed no signs of infection."
"Preliminary conclusions suggest the virus cannot currently be cured. Stronger magic can somewhat resist it. Its method of transmission remains unknown, but it's presumed to be linked to the male Spirit's Angel."
"In the chamber that held the Second Spirit, the two researchers conducting reversal experiments were found dead—brutally tortured, likely by each other. This suggests the male Spirit's Angel may also possess some form of mental interference."
"In light of all this, we've temporarily assigned the code name Apocalypse to the male Spirit."
As she spoke, Ellen pulled a folder from her briefcase and laid the contents before Westcott.
"Apocalypse… and Nightmare. Now that's interesting."
A thin, icy smile tugged at Westcott's lips as his sharp gaze fell on a photo—Nagami and Kurumi, midair, caught in the middle of combat.
His eyes glittered with cold amusement.
There was delight hidden behind the cruelty, like a child watching a village burn.
That's what it reminded him of.
The joy he felt as a boy… watching humans destroy his home.
Humans had given him a reason for revenge—and now, with divine justification, he would return the favor with slaughter.
Nagami had stormed the Neryl Island base, rescued the Second Spirit, and left countless DEM personnel in a fate worse than death.
No, not death.
That would've been a mercy.
Westcott's thirst for revenge had been fully ignited.
This moment… was just like that moment.
"Can we track Apocalypse and Nightmare? Their current location?"
He ran his fingers over the file again, eyes glued to every sparse detail about Nagami.
His chest rose and fell faster. His body… began to tremble.
He was thrilled.
Seeing Westcott in such a state, Ellen closed her eyes and quietly spoke—
Miss Ellen was deeply loyal to Westcott—utterly devoted, in fact—but even she couldn't understand the strange sense of delight he always seemed to exude.
"We've confirmed that they're in Tenguu City, but we still need more precise coordinates," she reported.
"That's enough," Westcott said with a casual snap of his fingers, a pleasant yet dangerous smile playing at his lips.
"Ellen… what if there are multiple Spirits involved?"
A few seconds of silence followed before Ellen answered confidently.
"No problem."
Westcott's smile widened with amusement at her reply.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Ellen Mira Mathers—"
…
"Bad news! Really bad news, Nagami!"
Nagami turned his head to see a pair of long, slender legs as pale and flawless as porcelain under the soft light—followed by the urgent voice of a girl rushing into the living room.
Honjou Nia burst in, dressed in nothing but a thin white shirt.
Her delicate thighs shimmered with a creamy glow, and a faint blush lingered on her knees, likely from kneeling earlier.
It was a dangerously distracting sight—one that could easily scramble a man's thoughts.
"Something terrible's happened, Nagami! Westcott's sent the world's strongest magician to Tenguu City—to hunt you and Kurumi down!"
Before he could react, the Spirit girl leapt onto Nagami, straddling his waist with both legs.
Her hands—slim and pale from years of drawing—clutched his shoulders, her face full of urgency.
She had been pouring all her energy into creating her doujinshi, an artistic pursuit that couldn't be rushed.
But she wasn't alone anymore.
She had someone to protect—someone who had saved her.
She couldn't just keep living like before, indifferent and aloof.
So, during her breaks, Nia began using the Tome of Revelation to monitor the movements of DEM Industries.
And the result? She had intercepted Westcott's next move.
Honestly, if used properly, this stand substitute—er, Spirit—was stupidly overpowered.
Nagami blinked, caught off guard by Nia's sudden jump.
Kurumi's gaze also shifted to Nia, her expression unusually complicated.
"Hey! Are you two even listening?!"
Nia waved her small hands in front of them in frustration, noticing both their eyes were locked on her clothes—or rather, the lack of them.
"The world's strongest magician, huh… Master, what will you do?" Kurumi, ever the attentive maid, gently brushed Nagami's bangs aside and offered him a sultry smile.
Too much.
This was too much.
It wasn't the threat of the so-called world's strongest magician that overwhelmed him—it was the present situation.
The soft, alluring warmth of Nia sitting on him was short-circuiting his brain.
If her Spirit outfit—the nun's robes with a will of their own—had consciousness, it would probably be weeping in shame right now.
She looked nothing like a nun.
More like a shameless otaku obsessed with ecchi anime.
To Nia, the fact that Nagami was a fellow otaku was a massive plus.
But honestly, Nagami felt the same way. Her boldness, the free-flowing fanservice—she hit all the right buttons for him.
But Westcott's provocation…
"I just want to know—who gave him the courage? Was it… Gilgamesh or something?"
Wrapping his arms around Nia's slim waist, Nagami gently lifted her off his lap and stood up from the couch.
"I was planning to pay him a visit anyway—to get revenge for imprisoning Nia, but I didn't expect him to come knocking first."
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