Julia Alois stepped out of the black SUV onto the polished driveway of her new Leverkusen mansion. Towering glass walls gleamed under the morning sun. She tilted her head skyward, lips curling into a predator's smile. "Now I'm ready for my next target."Inside, unpacking barely begun, Julia flicked on the massive flatscreen. "Detektiv Schwarz" news special filled the room—Peter Schmidt, Bernard, and Namie
on stage at BayArena, heroes of Germany. Julia's eyes narrowed. Peter seemed more introspective than
expected. Bernard carried a mature, iron-willed psychological strength. Not what the reports promised.She
snapped her fingers. An assistant appeared. "Send the Schwarz Motorrad contract to Bernard. Now."CUT TO: Bernard's kitchen table. The same gold-embossed envelope arrived via courier. Bernard ripped it open,
scanning the sponsorship offer again. Custom demon-hunter bikes. Spiritual weaponry. Millions. His gut screamed trap, but the agency's budget begged for it.Meanwhile, Leverkusen High School...John Alois
slumped at a cafeteria table, new kid invisibility cloak active. Across sat David Cameron—blond, freckled American-German with easy confidence. Son of a U.S. military dad and German mom."Parents suck, right?" David grinned, stealing John's fries. "Mine made me move here from Ramstein Air Base. Yours?"John
hesitated. Julia's scream echoed in his head: "Mimado! Estúpido!" "They're... complicated. Mom's intense. Dad just follows."David nodded knowingly. "My old man's the same. Army discipline 24/7."John stared at his
tray. Could he tell David the truth? That his mother wasn't just 'intense'? That she was... evil? The word
stuck. What if he became her? Cold eyes, screaming rages, hating Peter Schmidt for no reason?The bell
rang. New friends. New city. But John's fear remained old—the fear of becoming his mother.Julia's war had invaded Leverkusen. Phase one: complete.Julia's chessboard expanding! Want John's school demon encounter next, or Bernard confronting the contract?
Sunlight streamed through Namie's kitchen window as Peter stirred awake. The rich aroma of fresh coffee
filled the air. He padded barefoot to the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching Namie move with
quiet grace—measuring coffee grounds, steam rising from the pot, her hair catching the morning light. Simple beauty, untouched by demons or cults. His chest tightened, Seifros' sparks dormant for once.She
slid a plate across the table—warm bread, soft cheese melting into golden crust. Peter sat, sipping strong coffee, black as his doubts. His gaze drifted to the window, Leverkusen waking beyond—factory
smokestacks, distant traffic hum."You're awfully observant today," Namie said, sitting across from him, chin resting on her hand.Peter set down his cup, steam curling between them. "Yeah... but I'm worried. The
Dortmund mafia mission's coming soon. And I bet that syndicate's run by some corporate front."
Namie leaned forward, coffee cup cradled in her hands, eyes searching Peter's face. "Do you think it's
strange Bernard's been so distant since the Earth 2 mission?"Peter nodded slowly, cheese dripping from his
bread. "Yeah. Bernard hasn't joined any missions with us. He's been going solo. It's all... strange."Namie
traced the rim of her cup thoughtfully. "Bernard probably has some dark past too, like you do."Peter's gaze
darkened, Seifros sparks flickering faintly under his skin. "I think so too. He's Portuguese descent, and he's
never talked about his relationship with his parents.""What do you think he's doing right now?" Namie
asked.CUT TO: Bernard's garage.Bernard swung his leg over his motorcycle, the engine growling to life. His face was stone—jaw clenched, eyes narrowed to slits, deep in thought. He revved the throttle once, twice, then peeled out toward Julia Alois' Schwarz Motorrad headquarters
Peter Schmidt and Namie finished their coffee and bread, the morning calm shattered by duty. They grabbed their spiritual detective badges and headed to the agency headquarters. Inside the briefing room, Peter found Akihiko—the investigator who'd helped bring down William Brosnan—pinned over Dortmund mafia maps.
"Think William Brosnan will return to Germany?" Peter asked, studying the red-marked syndicate locations.
Akihiko shook his head firmly. "FBI has Brosnan locked up. Maximum 50-year sentence. He's done."
Intelligence arrived: Dortmund mafia coordinates for joint investigation with German detectives. Spiritual activity suspected—magic, entities, dark rituals. Peter and Namie would check for supernatural traces.
"Metro to Dortmund," Peter decided. "Low profile. No attention." They slipped into the subway system, blending with morning commuters, spiritual senses alert for demonic traces.
Meanwhile at Schwarz Motorrad HQ...
Bernard pulled up to the gleaming corporate tower, engine still growling. He strode through glass doors, ignoring curious stares. At reception:
"Julia Alois," he stated.
The polished attendant smiled professionally. "Bernard? Just upstairs. The CEO's waiting."
Bernard rode the elevator alone, jaw set, hand brushing the contract in his pocket.
On the Dortmund metro, swaying gently...
Namie rested her head on Peter's shoulder, the subway's hum masking their whispers. Commuters scrolled phones, oblivious to Germany's spiritual guardians inches away.
"We need to figure out what happened to Bernard," Peter murmured, arm around her protectively. "What he's doing after this Dortmund mafia mission. Then we find him."
Namie nodded against his jacket, feeling the faint warmth of Seifros sparks through fabric.
CUT TO: Schwarz Motorrad HQ, executive suite...
Julia Alois stood beside Bernard before a gleaming weapons display. "This sword is for Namie," she purred, lifting an intricately engraved blade that hummed with spiritual energy. "And this—yours, if you sign." She gestured to a brutal machete with black obsidian inlays.
Custom motorcycles lined the glass wall—sleek, matte-black demon hunters with spiritual sigils etched into fairings.
Bernard examined a prototype pistol, unimpressed. "Weapons need work. Bikes and cars are solid."
Julia tilted her head, smile predatory. "What needs improving?"
"Earth 2," Bernard said flatly. "Me, Namie, Peter fought demons there. These look like regular guns, not anti-Seifros weapons. Bullets need salt—but INSIDE the metal casing, not coated outside. Surface salt wears off fast, turns them normal. Put salt in the bullet core, not like food seasoning."
Julia's smile tightened. Her assistant scribbled notes furiously. She'd underestimated Bernard's field experience.
Schwarz Motorrad HQ...
Julia's smile returned, polished as her heels. "In five days, come test the improvements. Then sign the contract."
Bernard nodded curtly. "Thank you." He turned on his heel, boots echoing down the marble corridor.
Julia watched him go, smile vanishing. Her eyes burned with rage and contempt. "Arrogant detective," she hissed to her empty office. Bernard had seen through her prototype flaws. Dangerous.
Back on the Dortmund metro...
Namie slept peacefully against Peter's shoulder, train rhythm lulling her. Childhood friends turned lovers—no awkwardness left. Peter stared ahead, her steady breathing grounding him amidst Seifros' faint whispers.
In his mind, memories crashed: Earth 2 flames, demonic transformation, Namie's blood on his claws. "I've been through so much with her," he thought, "just to become what I never imagined."
The metro rattled toward Dortmund's mafia heart. Julia's pieces moved. Bernard walked her path.