Chapter 7: The Three Rules of Exorcism

The silent corridor was stained silver-grey by the dim moonlight outside.
Wind and rain crackled violently, as though the dark clouds were about to swallow the moon whole.

Hurried footsteps echoed through the silence.
Vivian clutched a stack of nun robes in her arms.
The ivory handle protruding half-way from the pile gleamed like pearls under the moonlight.

Her breathing quickened with excitement.
Her rushed footsteps sounded like something terrifying was chasing her from behind.

Finally, she reached the destination— the old electrical room marked with the plaque “Veil of Light”.

The candles she had lit earlier flickered restlessly on the wall,
but the gust she brought in snuffed them out instantly.

She no longer cared.
She dashed into the staircase darkness—thump, thump, thump.

Only after the wooden door of the electrical room slammed shut with a creak did she lean against it and catch her breath.

Inside the narrow room, old voltage regulators and fuse panels filled almost all the space.
The regulator’s paint had long peeled away under oxidation, showing layers of reddish rust—its original color impossible to tell.

The dust lay thick enough to choke someone.
A wooden toolbox rotted away in a corner.
Discarded ceramic insulators, a tiny can of hardened oil, and a torn yellowed circuit manual littered the floor.

Brass terminals were exposed everywhere,
some marked with scorched black burns left behind by electrical sparks.

Not signs of age, but sabotage— Vivian had altered the terminals long before the very first time she came to flip the main switch.

They would burn out after power flowed through them for a period, causing an inevitable blackout.

“Accidentally” pulling the wrong lever.
“Panicking” and loosening a connector. For a “timid, darkness-fearing little maid,” such clumsy mishaps were perfectly reasonable.

This persona should panic in a dark environment like this.

But one thing in the room did not match any of this— a thick peachwood table stood against the wall.

A newly lit candle cast faint yellow glow upon a ritual altar.
Various materials scattered over the table surface— the scene suggested someone once performed secret rites here.

Vivian inhaled deeply to calm her racing heart.
Her hands trembled, but carried a strange thrill as she unfolded the nun robes.

The dim candlelight fell upon the revolver— coating it in a dark sheen.

Vivian swallowed, slowly letting her fingers trace that slightly too-large handle.

Its weight was heavy and cold in her grasp.
Her fingertips brushed over the rose relief carved into the barrel.

To call it a pistol would be an insult.

Large.
Broad.
Brutally heavy.
And elegant— like a work of art forged from iron.

Back in the greenhouse, Vivian had witnessed it firsthand— how Evelyn used this gun to dispatch gargoyles with precision and grace.

That thunderous roar—no demon could withstand the sheer destructive force.

Not those gargoyles.
Not Vivian.

But if this gun… if it were in her own hands… then that nun was no longer a threat.

A weapon capable of shredding demons— against a mere nun, the outcome would be identical.

Vivian could already picture it— what Sister Evelyn would look like when her body was ripped apart by these bullets.
Exciting.
Exhilarating.

“Leaving your gun where anyone could grab it… you’re awfully arrogant, Sister.”

A twisted grin stretched across Vivian’s lips, nearly reaching her ears.

The electrical failure was her doing.
The gargoyles were her pawns, released only to test Evelyn’s ability.

The greenhouse was a forbidden zone— no one ever went there.
Leaving demon traces there guaranteed the nun would investigate.
And it worked perfectly.

As a demon, Vivian knew well how Sin Nuns fought.
Most relied on their familiars for true combat power— their divine prayers served as support.

But Evelyn’s familiar… a bird demon with zero offensive ability.
Her entire combat strength… was concentrated in this firearm.

And now the firearm was Vivian’s.

Which meant— Evelyn had no exorcism methods left.

“Blame yourself for coming to the Grian estate.”

Vivian’s voice turned manic, dripping with bloodlust.
She could already taste the slaughter to come— one-sided, utterly brutal.

Knock, knock!

“Anyone in there?”

The sudden knocking froze Vivian’s crazed smile. Her expression shrank back into timid innocence.

Who?
Who would knock here?
No one ever visited this place!

Vivian swallowed hard. The voice outside was soft and airy, forced into a high pitch— someone intentionally disguising themselves.

Like a wolf pretending to be Mama Rabbit.

But if she stayed silent, the person would eventually assume the room was empty and leave, right?

The door was locked anyway.

Yet the knocking didn’t stop.
It grew louder— from tok tok to bang bang— now like someone was smashing the solid wood door.

“Little bunny, open up the door…”

The voice outside sang a rhyme Vivian had never heard before.

“Hurry and open… Or I’ll come iiiiin—”

The final line twisted— sharp, hysterical, like the voice’s owner had completely dropped the disguise and their sanity along with it.

Crazier than a demon.

BOOM!

The wooden door split with a massive crack. Through the gap, Evelyn’s face slid into view—

“Here is Johnny!”

That face— normally gentle— now grinning like a mad beast. Her pretty blue eyes turned into the hungry glare of a wolf in the dark.

Even Vivian, a demon, yelped in fear— heart skipping a beat.

Demons were supposed to be the terrifying ones.
Why was this nun scarier?

When Vivian fell silent after her scream,
Evelyn sighed with disappointment and reached in to casually unlock the door.

“You were obviously inside. Why didn’t you answer?”

She spoke sweetly, as if she hadn’t just tried to murder a door.
Not noticing the gun missing— her madness vanished like nothing had happened.

“U-uh…” Vivian hurriedly hid the gun behind her back, eyes darting nervously.
“I was… scared…”

“Oh? Demons get scared too?”

Evelyn leaned lazily against the peachwood table, picking up a small scrap of ram horn from the ritual altar to inspect it in the candlelight— utterly unfazed.

“Hiding here doing a rather interesting ritual, aren’t you?”

“When did you notice?”

Since Evelyn had already exposed her identity,
Vivian dropped the act.
She raised the heavy revolver with both hands, aiming directly at Evelyn.

“Ever since I first met you.”

Evelyn still examined the horn fragment like she might count its grooves.
“Careful. That thing’s pretty heavy.”

“When you first met me?”

Vivian cocked the hammer— click— safety off.
A single pull from death.

“From the start, you were suspicious.”

Evelyn tossed the horn back into the materials box.
“A timid little maid in a haunted mansion? Someone that scared wouldn’t stay here. The logic just doesn’t hold.”

“You claimed you were on the dismissal list, yet you stayed. You said you feared the dark, but when the greenhouse lights went out, you were calm— suspiciously calm.”

“When the gargoyles appeared, still no screams.”

“And most importantly— your fear was too perfect. Too precise. Like… acting.”

Evelyn smoothed a wrinkle in her skirt.
“So I left a gun behind to bait you. And you took the hook.”

“That’s it? Because my fear was too perfect? Are you kidding me?!”

Vivian snarled, two black rabbit ears sprouting atop her head— her features morphing to something beastlike.

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Evelyn clapped her hands.
“And don’t get me wrong— your performance was flawless. But as it happens… I’m an actress too.”

The twisted grin returned to her face, even worse than before.

“The gun is in my hands! You’re already dead!”

Vivian screamed, unable to understand— why this nun showed no panic at all.
Why she still radiated crushing dominance.

What gave her the right?!

CLICK!

Metal cracked— then thunder exploded.
A double-barrel burst of flame and pressure—

A monstrous recoil slammed into Vivian’s hand and wrist like a war hammer.
Her entire arm jolted backward violently.

But Evelyn didn’t flinch.
The two bullets spiraled past her sides, shredding the relay behind her into sparks and arcs lighting up the room.

“I told you the recoil was huge. Why don’t you ever listen?”

Evelyn smiled wickedly and advanced.

Vivian staggered backwards, her arm numb— yet she still trembled, raising the gun again.

Click!
Empty.

Click!
Empty again.

Only two rounds.
One trigger pull.

She had stolen the gun and ran here— no time to check the cylinder.

Cold sweat drenched her bangs.
Her back hit the wall.
No escape.

This nun— doing nothing— was about to break her mind.

Calm!
Calm down, Vivian!
Calm!

You are a demon.
You can kill a weaponless Sin Nun!

Vivian’s eyes turned bright rabbit-red.
Dark miasma seeped from her skin.
Her will lashed out with demonic psychic force— straight toward Evelyn—

But Evelyn only blinked.
The influence dissolved inches from her eyes, shredded by an unseen power.

What?!

No time to process— the failed enchantment forced Vivian’s body to disperse into black smoke.
Like a terrified rabbit, she shot past Evelyn’s side, burst open the door, and fled down the corridor.

Moonlight smothered by clouds.
The hallway pitch black.
Vivian ran for her life, dragging the heavy gun behind her.

What is that nun?!

She burst into an abandoned room— slammed the steel door shut— leaned against it, panting.
Sweat dripped down her forehead in sheets.

“Damn it… Just a Sin Nun…”

She could not understand.
How could just a Sin Nun reduce her to such panic?
She was no half-demon vessel— she was a full demon.
A hunter of the mortal world.

Clack!

Metal scraped behind her.

Chkk!
The sound of a lighter striking flint.

Fwoom.

A flame blossomed in the dark.

Ssshhh…

The whisper of cigarette smoke.

Vivian stiffened and turned— the flame gone— only a tiny ember glowing in the darkness.

Her entire neck bristled in terror.

“There are three rules of exorcism…”

Clouds drifted aside.
Cold moonlight poured in, illuminating half of Evelyn’s face.

She lounged on an antique sofa, arms spread over the backrest, legs crossed in a completely unladylike manner.

“One, apply mental pressure to force the demon to reveal its true form.”

Blue feathers drifted down.
The little blue bird flapped through the window, perched on the sill, and preened absentmindedly.

“You have no weapon! Your familiar can’t fight! You can’t kill me!”

Vivian shrieked, her legs bending backward like a beast’s, fur spreading across her skin.
Her demonic rabbit form fully revealed.

She was cracking under the pressure.

“Two, a demon can only be harmed when its true form is exposed.”

Evelyn continued, unbothered, exhaling a cool ribbon of smoke.

“Haha! You’re cornered! You’re dead!”

Vivian raved— a black rapier appearing in her grip from shadow.
Fear twisted into ferocity.
Yet tears of terror still leaked from her eyes.

“Three, when the demon’s mind collapses— that is the correct moment to strike.”

“Die!!!”

The blade flashed toward Evelyn’s brow—

But stopped three centimeters short.

Because two cold barrels pressed against Vivian’s rabbit-skull chin.

“For someone like me— having a second gun is only natural, don’t you think?”

Evelyn smiled.

Her finger pulled the trigger.

Thunder shattered the room.