The mental fog lifted like condensation wiped from glass. Memories of the Bureau's true operations flooded Leon's mind - interdimensional soul harvesters, temporal wraiths, godlings hungering for dominion. Cold sweat pearled his brow with each horrific revelation.
"Brother?"
The wheelchair-bound girl clutched her IV stand, porcelain features tightening. "They... cough... assigned the wrong suite! We can't possibly-"
"Full medical coverage." Leon forced calm through gritted teeth, displaying his scarab-embossed credentials. "Third-grade Incident Officer with the Royal Constabulary."
Anna's momentary relief curdled to suspicion. "What... cough... dangerous work did you take?"
"Corpse detail," Leon bluffed, activating his [Dung Beetle Dossier]. "Mass casualty cleanup. Gruesome but safe."
[Iron-tier Badge "Probationer" Flared]
[Effect: +15% Obfuscation Efficiency]
The lie curdled his tongue. From the window, triage teams swarmed like ants beneath a blood-orange sunset - the "Corrupted" incident Olivia had warned about.
"Marriage prospects..." Anna rasped between spasms. "If people know you handle-"
"Who needs romance?" Leon's chuckle tasted metallic. In this deathshop job, ghostly brides might be his only match.
Monitors shrieked. The scarab badge seared Leon's chest - corrupted entities approaching. He bolted past nurses explaining "alchemical plant casualties," vaulting through fire escapes toward the Bureau's obsidian spire.
With Anna unable to be moved, Leon's only option crystallized - alert the Bureau and bring reinforcements to handle the Corrupted.
Whether through time dilation from stress or his [Probationer] badge's efficiency boost, the sleep-deprived youth reached the Bureau's obsidian tower at inhuman speed. He burst into the director's office only to find... emptiness.
"Where is everyone?" Leon rasped, lungs burning. The crimson-haired administrator had long departed, leaving shadows dancing across arcane machinery.
As he turned to leave, a muffled thud interrupted the silence. The demon goat's severed head rolled across Persian carpets, sutured mouth twisting in familiar contempt.
What the hell you starin' at? The telepathic snarl shattered the ominous atmosphere. Pick me up, you daft ape! Back in my prime, I'd have flayed idiots like you for wall decorations!
"You're that..." Leon blinked at the disembodied head. "The Bureau's demon?"
Who else, genius? The goat's psychic voice dripped sarcasm. Hurry up! My neck itches.
After righting the head on a mahogany side table, Leon cut to the chase. "There's a Corrupted at Mercy Hospital. Any agents on duty?"
You see any living souls here? The goat's eyes rolled. Olivia shipped everyone out chasing performance metrics. Place is emptier than a succubus's heart.
"Then help me find someone!" Leon's desperation peaked. "Two cartons of Gault cigarettes!"
The demon's pupils dilated. Tempting... but even I can't conjure agents from thin air.
"Then why's the Bureau empty?!"
Blame the ginger lush! The goat's telepathic shout rattled windowpanes. Piss-poor mission ratings, desperate audits next quarter - she's got field teams chasing easy anomalies in the boonies. Meanwhile, actual threats like your Corrupted...
The tirade ceased abruptly. Well well... The goat's grin turned feral. Seems your rookie ass might bag some glory after all. Grab me and head east - move your pathetic meat-sack!
...
The mummified woman materialized from shadowed alleyways before Leon could protest. Bandages obscured her face except for glacial blue eyes that appraised him through the goat's telepathic feed.
"Emma Wilkins. Six-year veteran." Her voice held the calm of glaciers. "The goat says you require assistance."
"There's a Corrupted-"
"Noted." She raised a bandaged hand. "Per Four-Step Operational Protocol: First, threat assessment through surveillance. Second, impact projection via-"
"People are dying now!" Leon's outburst echoed off brickwork.
"Understood." Her composure never wavered. "However, noctural operations against unknown entities violate protocol. Moreover..." She pulled back a sleeve revealing flesh that pulsed like magma beneath gauze. "My current condition allows one more intervention. I choose when."
The goat snorted. Olivia's halfway to Wales. Three days minimum.
"Then we wait." Emma's tone brooked no argument. "Unless you possess Aetheric Suppression Gear or-"
"MY SISTER'S IN THAT HOSPITAL!" Leon's roar startled even the demon.
To her credit, Emma's voice softened. "This job consumes us all. But surviving requires knowing when to-"
Enough sermons! The goat interrupted. Kid, you've got two choices: drag her kicking and screaming, or let nature take its course. Either way, my cigarettes better-
A strangled laugh escaped Leon. The absurdity - bargaining with a demon head while his sister suffocated - crystallized his resolve.
"...Understood." Leon's grip slackened, the weight of rationality pressing harder than any demonic bargain.
Though Emma's refusal stung, her logic held - no one owed him martyrdom. Yet Anna's labored breathing echoed louder than reason.
The demon goat squirmed in his arms, its telepathic growl tinged with panic: Don't even think about welching! Three packs weekly or I'll-
"Can you handle this?" Leon interrupted, desperation overriding caution.
Tch. The goat's obsidian eyes narrowed. You think me some nicotine-starved imp? My last contract involved a duke's soul and seven virgin sacrifices!
"Three packs. Weekly."
...Five.
"Done."
Damnation! The goat's ethereal horns flickered crimson. Should've asked for ten!
As their pact solidified, Leon's vision fractured. The scarab badge on his chest pulsed like a dying star:
[Materialist's Soul (Unique) Hidden Trait Unlocked]
[Badge Slot +1 (Total:4) - Next Unlock:2 Anomalies]
[New Badge: Demonkin Symbiote (Bronze)]
[Effect A: +30% Affinity with Corrupted Artifacts]
[Effect B: Reduced Sanity Cost for Forbidden Acts]
[Evolution: Perform 10 Undetected Sacrifices → Silver "Hell's Confidant" (1/10)]
[Hidden Curse: Soul now emits 0.1% Abyssal Resonance]
The goat suddenly stiffened. You... it projected, genuine shock cutting through the sarcasm, we harmonize like succubus and sinner! How's a Boy Scout like you syncing with my wavelength?
Leon bit back the truth about his system. Let the demon think him naturally depraved.
[New Perception Unlocked: Malice Sonar]
A thousand neon-blue will-o'-wisps materialized across the city block - each representing envy, wrath, or deceit. Leon's fingers itched with forbidden knowledge; a twitch could make a bitter clerk torch their workplace, or drive a cheating spouse to knife their lover.