Marvin looked up at the portrait one last time, a wry, exhausted sigh escaping him.
“I always had a feeling.”
Diana raised an eyebrow, her posture shifting as she leaned against the edge of the stone display.
“A feeling?”
“That someone like you couldn’t possibly be a normal human.” Marvin folded his arms, his eyes tracing the ancient brushstrokes.
“Turns out, I was right.”
The intense crimson glow gradually faded from Diana’s eyes, leaving behind their usual dark, sharp depth.
She stepped away from the painting, her boots clicking softly on the concrete floor as she approached the golden pedestal.
Her attention finally settled on the katana resting inside the black box.
“This sword isn’t just a weapon,” she murmured.
Marvin looked down at the crimson-patterned steel.
“No?”
“It serves two purposes.”
“A dual purpose?”
Diana nodded, tilting her head.
“Look at the construction.
It’s well-made.
Balanced.
The metalworking is exceptional, probably strong enough for most human warriors of its era.”
Marvin listened carefully, expecting a grand revelation.
“But?”
Diana smiled, a dry, slightly mocking edge to her lips.
“But this thing wasn’t built for fighting the kinds of monsters my Carla fights.”
Right on cue, the massive claymore strapped to her back erupted with an angry, static hiss.
*Crack.*
Diana let out a heavy sigh, not even looking behind her shoulder.
“See?
Highly sensitive.”
Marvin coughed nervously, taking a half-step back.
“Sorry.”
Diana reached back and casually patted the leather-wrapped handle of her weapon.
“It’s alright, big girl.” The aggressive red sparks subsided, disappearing back into the steel.
Marvin shifted his gaze back toward the ancient sword resting in the silk-lined box.
“If your mother wasn’t human…” His eyes drifted involuntarily toward the portrait, then snapped back to Diana.
“And if you’re anything like her…
I find it hard to believe this was her primary weapon.
If she carried it, it must be even stronger than Carla.”
*CRACK.*
A massive, blinding red spark erupted from Carla’s hilt, the force of the discharge echoing loudly off the concrete walls.
Diana winced, pulling her hand away.
“Ouch.”
Marvin scrambled back, nearly tripping over a nearby stool.
“What happened?”
“You just managed to insult both of us at the same time,” Diana muttered, rubbing her gloved knuckles.
“I didn’t mean to!”
“You explicitly implied somebody else’s sword was stronger.” Diana gestured toward her back.
“She takes that personally.”
Marvin looked genuinely horrified, realizing he was negotiating with an oversized piece of volatile steel.
He cleared his throat and addressed the air near Diana’s shoulder.
“I…
apologize to Carla.”
The lingering red sparks around the hilt immediately became less aggressive, settling down into a faint, satisfied hum.
Diana nodded approvingly.
“Good choice.
She accepts.”
Marvin rubbed his forehead, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes.
“Anyway…” He pointed a finger safely toward the katana.
“If it wasn’t meant for actual battle, then what exactly was its purpose?”
Diana’s expression became thoughtful.
For a long moment, she simply stared down at the intricate red markings along the blade.
Then, she reached down and smoothly lifted the weapon from its box.
The blade felt surprisingly light in her grip.
Almost unnaturally familiar.
Marvin waited, his breath caught in his throat.
“So?”
Diana turned the blade over, examining the unique forge lines.
Then, she smiled.
“This…” She raised the sword slightly, letting the fluorescent light catch the edge.
“…is a key.”
Marvin stared blankly at the lethal piece of steel.
“A key…”
Diana nodded.
“A key.”
“What exactly does it unlock?”
Diana’s expression immediately flattened into dead seriousness.
“I don’t know.”
Marvin blinked.
“…What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Miss Diana.”
“Yes?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Diana looked at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in the world.
“Dude.”
Marvin frowned.
“This sword is hundreds of years old,” Diana pointed out, gesturing with the hilt.
“…”
“My mother carried it hundreds of years ago.”
“…”
“How on earth am I supposed to know what it unlocks?”
Silence filled the vault.
Marvin opened his mouth to argue, closed it, and then opened it again.
He let out a slow, deflated breath.
“You know what?
That’s actually a very fair point.”
Diana nodded, entirely satisfied with herself.
“Thank you.”
Marvin rubbed the bridge of his nose.
For a brief moment, the sheer absurdity of the situation had made him forget that discovering the sword belonged to Diana’s mother didn’t automatically come with an instruction manual or a map.
Diana, meanwhile, continued to casually twirl the blade, testing its weight.
“Besides.
If Mother hid this thing somewhere and expected me to figure it out centuries later…” She shrugged, her shoulders dropping in a loose gesture.
“That’s exactly the kind of annoying nonsense she’d do.”
Marvin looked toward the smiling woman in the portrait, then back at the dangerous, unpredictable woman standing right in front of him.
A small, genuine smile appeared on his face.
“Somehow, I’m beginning to understand exactly where you got your personality.”
Diana pointed the tip of the katana toward him.
“Careful.”
“I meant that entirely as a compliment.”
“Good.”
Marvin’s smile faded as his business instincts kicked back in, trying to piece the fragments together.
“So…
the demons are after these two items?”
Diana nodded, resting the flat of the blade against her palm.
Marvin’s brow furrowed deep into a frown.
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hm?”
“If they wanted these specific items, why attack me?” He spread his hands wide, gesturing to the locked vault door behind them.
“They’d need me alive to get down here in the first place.
A demon can’t bypass a retinal scanner or a palm-print lock.”
Diana’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with sudden amusement.
“Exactly.”
Marvin paused, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
The more he analyzed the timeline, the stranger the incidents became.
The demons had attacked him repeatedly, with terrifying violence.
Yet, none of them had ever made a single, serious attempt to breach the mansion’s lower levels or search for a hidden vault.
Their attention had always been explicitly focused on *him*.
Diana rested the ancient katana casually over her shoulder.
“See?
You’re finally using your brain.”
Marvin ignored the dry jab.
“Then what does it mean?”
“It means the demons don’t actually want you dead,” Diana said, her voice dropping into a cool, grounded register.
Marvin froze.
“What?”
“The demons want these.” Diana glanced briefly at the portrait, then down at the sword in her hand.
“They don’t care about your corporate inheritance.
They don’t care about your family business.
They don’t care about the numbers in your bank account.”
Marvin swallowed hard, the air suddenly feeling much colder.
“And me?”
Diana’s expression remained entirely calm, almost detached.
“You’re just an annoying obstacle standing between them and what they want.”
The wealthy businessman felt a sharp chill run straight down his spine.
“Then…
who has been trying to kill me?”
Diana looked directly into his eyes, her expression unblinking.
“Someone else.”
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the concrete room.
Marvin’s knees felt suddenly weak, and he slowly lowered himself into a nearby office chair, his face losing its remaining color.
“Someone else…”
The words sounded far more frightening than any demon attack.
At least demons were simple.
Demons were driven by base instincts—they attacked, they tore things apart, they killed.
But humans?
Humans planned.
Humans waited in the shadows.
Humans smiled to your face and lied.
Diana watched him quietly from across the pedestal.
For the first time since they had met, the composed, wealthy businessman looked genuinely, deeply afraid.
“What do you know, Miss Diana?” he asked, his voice trembling.
A confident, dangerously sharp smile cut across Diana’s face.
It was the exact same smile that had made countless desperate clients trust her with their lives.
The same smile that usually appeared right before she completely ruined someone’s day.
“I know one thing,” she murmured.
Marvin waited, holding his breath.
Diana twirled the ancient katana once through the air with effortless precision before resting the tip against the concrete floor beside her boot.
Her smile sharpened into something predatory.
“Whoever wants you dead…
is getting impatient.”