Diana leaned against the desk, her posture deceptively relaxed, and held out a hand.
“Hey, kid.”
Garin jumped, straightening up like a soldier.
“Y-Yes!”
“You organized the mission files, right?”
Garin nodded, her movements stiff with nerves, and pulled a thick folder from her raincoat.
She handled it like a holy relic.
Diana watched her, trying to hide her amusement at the girl’s terrified precision.
“S-So…” Garin cleared her throat, her voice trembling.
“T-The mission is the son of a wealthy b-businessman—”
Diana held out her hand.
“Give me the file.”
Garin froze, looking like she’d just been ordered to commit a crime, and gingerly handed it over.
Diana didn’t wait; she flipped the folder open while walking toward the couch, scanning the pages with rapid, practiced efficiency.
“Wealthy businessman dies, son inherits the fortune, and now the son is getting swarmed,” Diana muttered, tapping a photograph of the heir.
She looked up at Garin.
“What do you think?”
Garin hesitated, her brow furrowed in thought.
“I-I think someone is trying to silence him so he doesn’t inherit.”
Diana pointed at her.
“Good.”
Garin looked genuinely stunned to have passed the test.
Diana kept flipping, her mood darkening as she reached the back of the file.
“Car tampering, poison, sniper… the hits were standard.
Amateurs,” Diana said, her voice dropping.
She pointed to a photo of a hallway shredded by something with razor-sharp claws.
“But this?
This was a demon.”
Garin stepped closer, her eyes widening.
“Tore through trained security like tissue paper,” Diana muttered.
“Seven dead.
This isn’t just rich people problems.
These people are connected.”
“To demons?” Garin asked.
Diana nodded once.
She grabbed the agency phone and dialed from memory, leaning back against the couch as the line picked up.
“Where are you?
Yeah, yeah, save the flirting for later.
Get to White Requiem.
Now.”
She hung up and, without looking, tossed the receiver over her shoulder. Get faster updates on g.com.
It spun through the air and landed perfectly on the chair beside the desk.
Garin stared, her mouth slightly agape.
“…How did you do that?”
“Natural talent.”
Diana grabbed a cold slice of pizza, took a bite, and noticed Garin staring at the food.
She raised an eyebrow.
“You hungry?”
Garin shook her head frantically.
“N-No.”
Diana squinted at her, then snatched another slice.
Without a flicker of warning, she flicked her wrist, launching the pizza across the room.
Thwack.
It landed squarely in Garin’s mouth.
Garin froze, cheeks puffed, eyes wide as saucers.
Slowly, she began to chew, her expression shifting from shock to pure, unadulterated comfort.
A faint, dusty rose tint crept up her cheeks.
“…Mhmhm…”
“Tasty?” Diana asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Twenty minutes later, the door swung open.
Cammy walked in first, sharp in a leather jacket with throwing knives glinting at her belt.
Bruce followed, looking like a tall, cynical skeleton with a sniper case, and Felix, the human refrigerator, filled the rest of the doorway with an iron club slung over his shoulder.
Diana gestured lazily at them.
“Garin, meet the misfits.
Cammy.
Bruce—the one who looks like a walking skeleton.
And Felix, the fridge.”
“I still don’t like that nickname,” Felix grunted.
Garin bowed nervously.
“H-Hello…”
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Cammy chirped.
Diana handed over the file.
As the trio read through the details, Diana didn’t even look up.
“Protect the client, gather intel, watch the estate.
But here’s the kicker: the client knows I’m involved.
Everyone else?
They should think I’m not.”
Bruce adjusted his glasses.
“You’re expecting a second party.”
Diana pointed at him with a slice of pizza.
“See?
That’s why I tolerate you.”
After they left, Diana killed the lights and started toward the stairs. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
“Okay, kid, follow me.”
Garin scurried behind her.
The second floor was surprisingly immaculate.
Diana pointed as they passed doors.
“My room.
Gym.
Kitchen.
And this one’s yours.”
She opened the door to the spare room.
It was huge, clean, and warm, looking more like a private suite than a room in a hunter’s agency.
Garin stood in the doorway, staring at the bed and the books.
She looked lost.
“What?” Diana asked, leaning against the frame.
“It’s… too nice.”
Diana shrugged.
“I fight demons for money, kid.
Not charity.”
“But Mr.
Jun Pyo said you were in debt.”
Diana felt her balance falter.
*That crazy old fool!* She gripped the doorway, let out an awkward laugh, and rubbed her neck.
“Haha… well… I’m just a really bad spender.
Every floor gets cleaned daily, I order way too much food, and I use insanely expensive skincare.
So, yeah… financial disaster.”
Garin tilted her head.
“T-That actually explains why you’re s-so b-b-beautiful…”
Diana froze.
Her brain short-circuited.
She coughed into her fist and looked at the ceiling, pretending the words hadn’t landed squarely in her heart.
“A-Anyway.” She shoved a key and a thick stack of cash into Garin’s hands.
“Keep your room clean.
Buy whatever you need.”
Garin looked at the money like it was a live grenade.
“I-I don’t know what to buy… or where…”
Diana groaned, putting a hand over her face.
“I’m so bad at this.” She sighed, pointing vaguely downstairs.
“I’ll call someone tomorrow.
She’ll help you with shopping and, you know, normal human survival stuff.”
She gave the girl a light push into the room.
“For now, get some rest, okay?”
Garin nodded, her eyes lingering on the clean, safe space.
“…Okay.”