"...How is that possible?"
Janeus's emerald eyes widened.
She couldn't tear her gaze away from the gray-white cloud hanging before her.
The smoke drifted lazily through the ruined station, obscuring the shattered remains hidden beneath it.
"Ah."
Ron sounded almost amused.
"I never explained things like this to you, did I?"
He stepped through the lingering haze without a scratch on him.
"I thought you'd already figured it out from the beginning."
The teasing tone only made Janeus narrow her eyes.
For a brief moment, surprise faded from her face.
The familiar, distant expression returned.
"...I see."
She closed her black parasol and planted it against the ground.
With practiced ease, she pressed her foot against the rim and pulled the handle free.
A slender sword emerged from within.
Its blade gleamed beneath the pale light.
Elegant engravings ran across the steel, each line precise enough to reveal the work of a master craftsman.
"What is the full name of this sword?"
Janeus asked.
Her gaze never left Ron's face.
She watched every twitch of his expression.
"I don't know."
Ron answered honestly.
Questions without answers rarely interested him.
Janeus remained silent for a moment.
Then she asked another.
"What is your name?"
For the first time, Ron hesitated.
Only briefly.
"Ron Irus."
A faint smile appeared.
"That's a new one. You know that?"
The answer carried a trace of playful sarcasm.
"Is it?"
Janeus lowered her stance.
The sword rose into a defensive position.
Her eyes swept across the station.
Yet most of her attention remained fixed on Ron.
"Then one last question."
The tip of the blade shifted slightly.
"Why are we working together?"
Ron sighed.
"There were three things I offered you."
He slowly raised one hand.
"The first was the original design for the revolver."
One finger folded.
"The second was a chance to temporarily free yourself from the Royal Family."
Another finger folded.
"The third..."
A small smile appeared.
"Was helping you grow stronger."
As he spoke, his hand closed.
The fingers aligned into a blade-like shape.
Then he struck.
Whoosh—
"...Is that enough, Princess?"
Their faces stopped only inches apart.
Ron looked exhausted.
Almost bored.
Yet there was something strangely tragic hidden behind his eyes.
Janeus stared back.
The same weariness lingered within her emerald gaze.
Cold.
Distant.
Alien.
Neither showed killing intent.
Neither appeared hostile.
Yet their weapons had already reached each other's throats.
"...You're incredibly suspicious, you know that?"
Ron withdrew his hand.
Four tiny puncture wounds remained on Janeus's pale neck.
Thin streams of blood slowly emerged.
Janeus lowered her sword.
A bloody hole now marked Ron's abdomen.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Janeus simply walked past him.
Her attention shifted toward the debris left behind by Ron's explosion.
Among the shattered rubble lay a corpse.
Or rather—
What remained of one.
The same madman whose heart Ron had ripped out earlier.
"...There was never a demon here."
Her voice was calm.
Almost disappointed.
"You deceived me."
Without waiting for a response, she crossed the ticket gate and headed deeper into the station.
Ron watched her go.
Then smiled faintly.
"Clever."
His voice echoed through the empty platform.
"You and I should split up."
Janeus paused.
Ron continued.
"You investigate the checkpoint and the locomotive."
His eyes drifted toward the endless line of train cars stretching into the distance.
"I'll search the passenger cars."
The smile never left his face.
"Sound fair?"