Chapter 262 (1): Vengeful Spirit x Hell x Succubus Transformation
Bar, Western District.
Late at night, mist permeated the Londan city, blurring the lamps lining the streets and the headlights of the cars. Everything looked obscure. Walking amid the mist, one could only see a short distance and not the faraway pedestrians and buildings.
Londan was large, and not every corner of the city was enveloped in mist. For example, the Central District—known as Inner Londan—was the center of politics, culture, and economy, as well as a haven for the rich and powerful. There, the mist was relatively thin. Colorful lights illuminated the area well into the night. It was thus known as a city that never slept.
In the wealthy Western District and Northern District, the mist wasn’t so thick that one couldn’t see their own fingers, but nightlife was similarly active and exciting.
The Eastern District and the Southern District, where the labor class gathered, fared worse. With thick mist covering the areas, there was no nightlife to speak of. The laborers had learned to rise and retire to bed early. After a busy day at work, another followed.
The mist in Londan could not be removed, but it could be suppressed by magical barriers. Due to the barriers being too expensive to maintain, though, only the wealthy Central, Western, and Northern Districts could remain active at night.
The Eastern and Southern Districts should forget about such luxury. They didn’t even have enough money to pay taxes; a nightlife was out of the question. They should all sleep well and work the next day obediently. The nobles were hoping to exploit them further!
Moreover, going outside at night came with risks, be it from dark mages or monsters originating from the mist. The newspapers often published stories about people getting killed or going missing at night.
Last year, several ladies of the night were killed late at night. Rumors that the ripper had returned ran more and more rampant...
An old gentleman in a black suit opened the door to a private room on the second floor of a bar, laying down his walking stick by a seat. He took off his suit jacket and removed his dress hat and wig, revealing his grimy, clumped-up beard and a rumpled, long white coat.
Planck.
Across from him, Wayne had been waiting with his legs crossed. His secretary, Mona, stood behind him.