After purchasing a demon seed for fifty mark points, Renny turned to Oliver with a grin. He had good news. Kneeling to meet the hound at eye level, he said, "I've got an important task for you."

He held out a single strand of Seraphine's silver hair and let it flutter between his fingers before handing it to Oliver. "Follow this scent," he instructed. "Find the demon it belongs to. Watch her, everything she does, where she goes, who she meets. 15 days, then return here. I'll come for your report myself."

Oliver barked sharply, tail flicking. The spark in his eyes almost looked like pride, as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

Renny smiled faintly. "Finally putting you to work, huh? Alright, buddy. Go."

Oliver didn't hesitate. As soon as Renny gave the signal, the creature darted forward, vanishing cleanly into the shadow realm, the air rippling for a heartbeat where he'd stood.

Renny blinked. "Oh," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "So that's how it moves… hunting through the shadow realm, that could work."

***

On the 5th of February, Renny made his way to his second demon class with Old Man Baro. This time, the instructor was none other than the Vice President himself — Shorai Omekro.

He entered the hall with that same polished poise that seemed to shimmer off the new sets of Grade Fives. Even before he spoke, the room had already fallen silent, as though his presence alone commanded reverence.

"Demons," he began, his voice smooth and deliberate, "understand that mark points are not merely tokens of your progress; they are a reflection of your alignment with your mark. When properly invested, a single demon seed or spell, can alter the trajectory of an entire contract. Power, when concentrated, has exponential reach."

He paced slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes sweeping the rows of students.

"Often," he continued, "you will find your mark family lacking in certain natures, perhaps your craft thrives in Madness, yet the task demands hunger or decay. In such cases, you will trade, you will collaborate, and you will evolve. Cooperation among demons is not a gesture of goodwill; it is an inevitability born of limitation. This," he gestured to the crowd, "is what it means to belong to the Great Royal Family. The binding of our differences is the strength of our unity."

His lecture carried on, complex, articulate, until finally, he dismissed the class with a single nod.

As Renny and Baro made their way out, Baro leaned close, his tone excited. "I've got an idea," he said, eyes gleaming. "A good one... we could earn a fine number of points off it."

Renny smirked. "So fast? Well then, let's hear it."

Before Baro could answer, a female demon approached. Her steps were small, measured. She wore the same demon uniform, though hers had a skirt, long black socks, and a tailored jacket drawn neatly by a bow tie. Glasses rested perfectly on the bridge of her nose, and she carried several books pressed against her chest.

"Um… Renayo, right?" she asked, voice careful but clear.

Renny gave a small nod.

"Please, may I speak with you alone? I hope I'm not interrupting."

Renny looked at Baro, who immediately grinned, adjusting his cap. "It's fine, my dear," he said warmly. "I'll tell him some other time."

He tapped Renny's back with his stick as he stepped away. "Take care, boy," he added with a knowing smirk, before leaving them in the hallway.

As Old Man Baro disappeared around the corner, the girl shifted the books in her arms and smiled softly. "Would you mind if we walked while we talked?" she asked.

Renny shrugged. "Sure."

They began down the corridor, their footsteps echoing faintly between the stone walls. After a moment, she straightened her glasses and said, "Right. I should start with my name. Thrumaela Damaruk."

Renny raised an eyebrow. "That's… quite the name."

"I know," she said quickly, half laughing. "I actually struggled to pronounce it myself. The first few weeks were embarrassing. The council leader of our family helped me, though." She gave a small sigh, then smiled again. "I usually just go by Myla now."

Renny nodded. "Myla. That's better."

"Uh-huh," she murmured, pushing her glasses up again as though steadying herself. "So, I noticed something... you're the only Ezraphor around here, aren't you? I haven't seen any others in the council either. No one representing your family line."

"That's correct," Renny said evenly. "I'm the only Ezraphor."

"Oh," she said, her tone softening. "That's got to be… lonely. And challenging."

Renny exhaled through his nose, half amused. "You have no idea."

She nodded quickly, eager to keep talking. "I found today's lecture about demon seeds fascinating. It makes sense now why humans back on Earth sometimes act so erratically. The sudden changes in behavior, those impulsive decisions that ruin them, even their addictions." Her voice grew more animated as she spoke, words tumbling out faster. "It's all demonic influence! And now we get to learn how to engineer that, how to make them spiral ourselves. Isn't that incredible?"

Renny gave a slow, noncommittal hum.

"If that's what you want to call it."

But Myla hardly heard him. She was lost in her own momentum, her thoughts spilling over. "And I was doing some reading last night, about your bloodline, the Ezraphors. They're listed as demons of Loss and Destruction, right? Which, um…"

She hesitated. For the first time, her voice faltered. The rush of her earlier confidence bled out mid-sentence.

"I... I mean, that's… that's what the records said, I just…" Her fingers tightened slightly around her books, as though she'd lost the rhythm of her own words.

Renny watched her in silence, a small smirk forming at the edge of his mouth.

"You want a demon seed, don't you?"

Myla blinked, startled, then let out a small gasp. "Was it that obvious?"

He gave a small nod. "Pretty much."

She smiled sheepishly, pushing her glasses higher. "I've already met the seed trader... Varkesh Rimein, right? He was the first person they referred me to for any seed exchanges."

"And?" Renny asked.

She shook her head, frowning. "He doesn't have the type I'm looking for."

Renny tilted his head. "What kind are you looking for then?"

Her tone dropped to a whisper, like she was confessing a secret. "A seed that can make someone lose their affection for another person."

She hesitated, fingers tightening around the books she carried. Then, with a small, crooked smile, she added, "I know... terribly devious of me, isn't it?"

Renny shrugged. "You're a demon after all. It's in the profession."

She nodded lightly. "Right."

Her eyes flicked up to him, careful, searching. "That's… an Ezraphor trait, isn't it?"

Renny's gaze flicked away for a second as he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the Mark Store app, and there it was, the same one he'd seen before: Seed of Emotional Severance, value: 30 Mark Points. Affordable.

He looked back at her. "Yeah," he said simply.

Her face lit up. "Really? Oh, that's perfect!" She nearly bounced on her feet. "Could you... Maybe purchase one for me from your Mark store? Please? I'll pay you back in contract points."

Renny hesitated, glancing at her enthusiasm with mild amusement. He'd recently gained an extra thousand CP from his side contract, and there wasn't much in the store he particularly needed at the moment. He was about to decline when something in her earlier introduction came back to him.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You said you're a Damaruk, right?"

Myla nodded, this time with pride. "Yes. Demons of Suffering and Chains." She grinned, her tone almost playful now.

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