Backlund, St. George Borough, in a factory room filled with junk.
Light flashed in a mirror filled with obvious cracks. Its surface turned dark and deep, as though it was connected to another world.
Suddenly, a white hand reached out from under the mirror, as though it had penetrated through layers of aqueous waves.
A figure walked out from the shadows—she was none other than the sweet and beautiful Demoness Trissy in a long black dress.
There was a rare paleness to her face, as though her face had lost all its ruddiness. Her forehead was covered in dense beads of sweat.
With a smacking sound, the suitcase in Trissy's hand fell to the ground. She could hardly suppress the horror in her eyes.
She then muttered to herself blankly, "His messenger is actually an angel…"
At that moment, Trissy felt a chill run down her spine, as though a cold wind had blown at her.
