The candle flickered again, the dim light struggling against the suffocating tension in the room. The Phantom Slayer stepped forward, his slow movements deliberate, almost predatory. His long black hair, tied loosely behind him, cascaded over his broad shoulders like strands of midnight silk. The golden sword at his waist caught the weak glow, glimmering faintly with every step.
Vivienne remained still, but her brown eyes flicked over his form, taking in every detail. The blindfold—dark, unmarked, perfectly wrapped. The faint scars peeking from beneath his collar. The calloused hands resting near his belt, fingers twitching as if they longed to grip the hilt of his weapon.
And that ring. A simple golden band. Why does a killer wear something so sentimental?
He leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, tilting his head slightly. "So?" His voice was deep, smooth—but carried an undertone of exhaustion. "You're going to stand there staring, or are you going to tell me what you want?"
Vivienne let out a slow exhalation. "I expected someone more… intimidating."
That smirk returned, lazy and cocky. "I get that a lot."
"I thought the Phantom Slayer was a ghost in the dark," she continued, "not some arrogant fool who looks like he spends more time preening in front of a mirror than spilling blood."
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. "And I thought noble ladies were supposed to be graceful. Not whatever this is."
Vivienne narrowed her eyes. "Oh, trust me. I can be graceful when needed. I just don't waste it on men who dress like they're compensating for something."
He grinned. "You sure talk big for someone who came here begging for my help."
Vivienne took a step forward, resting a gloved hand on the table. "I don't beg. I make deals."
He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Look, lady. I don't do work for pretty noblewomen. It's too much trouble."
Vivienne scoffed. "Please. Don't flatter yourself."
"You're the one calling me pretty," he shot back.
"I called you a pimp. There's a difference."
The Phantom Slayer barked a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have to admit, this is more fun than I expected. But seriously—whatever you came here for? I don't care."
Vivienne's smirk widened. "Not even if it involves your brother?"
The air changed.
The amusement on his face evaporated. His body stiffened. The air in the room, already thick, grew oppressive.
For a brief moment, something unreadable passed over his features, but it was gone before she could place it.
Vivienne didn't need to see his eyes to know they were burning into her now.
"Where?" he asked.
Vivienne leaned back, satisfied. "I'll tell you after you complete my request."
The Phantom Slayer stood deathly still, as though processing her words in slow motion. His hands curled into fists.
A memory surfaced—a boy. Younger than him. Always smiling. His face blurred, flickering like a dying candle. A voice filled with laughter. Calling his name— Raymond
Lost to time. Lost to whatever hollow thing had consumed the pieces of him that once mattered, A looming shadow he couldn't get out of his head.
Vivienne watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. There. That flicker of hesitation. That brief, human moment.
And then—
Pressure.
An invisible force exploded from his body, flooding the room like a tidal wave of raw, unchecked power.
The wooden walls groaned. The candle's flame flickered violently before snuffing out completely.
Vivienne staggered, the weight pressing down on her chest like unseen hands squeezing the air from her lungs.
Outside the door, she heard her guards collapse, choking, gasping, unable to breathe.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain standing. Do not show weakness.
The Phantom Slayer stepped closer, slow and deliberate. "You better not be lying," he murmured. His voice was lower now, something inhuman coiling beneath it.
Vivienne managed a small smirk, even as sweat trickled down her spine. "You won't destroy this city."
His head tilted, as if amused by her confidence. "You sure about that?"
She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "You've worked too hard to maintain this place. I don't believe you'd ruin something you built just to indulge in a tantrum."
Silence.
And then—
The pressure vanished in an instant, like a storm passing overhead.
Vivienne let out a quiet breath, finally free from the suffocating weight.
The Phantom Slayer rolled his shoulders, looking thoroughly bored. "Fine. I'll do your job."
Vivienne blinked. "Just like that?"
"You have information on my brother," he said simply. "That's all that matters."
Her smirk faltered. That fast? No haggling? No testing her?
She had prepared for more resistance, more posturing. But no—he had agreed instantly.
This was a man who would kill gods if it meant finding his brother.
Vivienne's pulse quickened.
The Phantom Slayer turned towards the door, running a hand through his hair as he moved. "You can tell me the details later."
Vivienne straightened. "When the time comes."
He paused in the doorway. "You better not make me wait too long, noblewoman."
And then, without warning, he stepped out, vanishing into the hall like a shadow melting into the night.
The moment he was gone, Vivienne let out a low shuddering breath, running a hand through her curls.
She turned towards the extinguished candle, tapping a single finger against the wood.
Then, softly, she chuckled.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Ray-Ray." Vivienne knew she shouldn't be risking her life like this. But she had no choice, her beloved a mysterious man she had met at a brothel, He had a nickname "Maker of widows". The man was said to be so good that when he was sleeping with a woman, her husband walked in on them and spat blood. He had received inner bleeding from the shock. But his wife had continued going, receiving another man's love juice as her husband bled to death. Vivienne, tho knowing she shouldn't be with a man like that, still chose to love him. She was a spoilt child of one of the dukes of Solaria. She was never free. "Ray Ray" was her only way of escape. And now he had asked her of something like this.
"Did I do the right thing?" She wondered.