Inside the villa—
Veil gently lifted Harvey's chin. Before she could dodge, his lips captured hers.
It wasn't a hurried conquest, but a slow and deliberate closeness.
Veil took his time, savoring the softness of her lips and the sweetness hidden deeper within. After a while, his lips moved to her forehead and began trailing downward, as though he were memorizing every inch of her skin with his warmth. His touch wasn't offensive, yet it held a dominating tenderness that was impossible to resist.
Harvey's eyes fluttered shut, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. She knew this wasn't the rational choice, yet she didn't push him away.
One arm slipped around her waist, and Veil lifted her gently, placing her down steadily on the living room couch. The night spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm hue over the quiet moment.
She leaned into him, no longer struggling.
Her head rested against his shoulder, where his calm, deep breathing brushed against her ear like the gentlest breeze.
Harvey's heart was in disarray. She couldn't tell if it was fear or… anticipation. She could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of her shirt—like sparks landing on a lake's surface, sending subtle ripples across her skin.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Her voice trembled like a whisper, fragile and unsure.
Veil didn't answer. Instead, he kissed the side of her face—soft and restrained, as though honoring a sacred rite.
She had wanted to push him away, but in the end, her hands merely clutched the front of his shirt in helpless defiance.
Veil cradled her in his arms, one hand resting lightly on her back. It was both a soothing gesture and a silent declaration. He didn't rush to claim her, instead offering her the space to decide.
"If you regret this, there's still time to walk away," he murmured, his voice calm, like rain tapping softly against a windowpane.
Harvey bit her lip, her cheeks flushed. She only shook her head slightly—an answer, or maybe an unspoken surrender.
"This is what you want," Veil said quietly. "And I'll get what I want, too."
Her lips still tingled with the lingering heat of that kiss. Her heartbeat had long since lost its rhythm.
She edged toward the side of the couch, as though trying to escape—but Veil caught her wrist with ease. His movements were steady, like a premeditated strike. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her earlobe, sliding downward inch by inch. Each breath that grazed her skin left a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
"You're trembling," he whispered in her ear, his voice low and husky. "Is it fear... or anticipation?"
Harvey didn't answer, only bit her lip harder, her face burning. She knew she should resist, but her body had already betrayed her.
Veil's hand slipped behind her, under the hem of her shirt, and pressed against the soft warmth of her back. His palm was searing.
"You're burning up," he teased with a devilish smirk.
Harvey shot him a glare, meaning to shove him away—but before she could act, he pinned her softly against the back of the couch. His kiss returned, no longer tender but demanding, laced with dominance.
He held her face in his hands as their lips clashed once more. His tongue, like a flame, broke through her last defenses, setting her nerves alight. Harvey clutched at the edge of the sofa, completely overwhelmed by his presence, engulfed in this dangerous yet irresistible descent.
Their bodies pressed so closely together that they were almost inseparable.
…
Veil stood before the couch, nodding with satisfaction. "Improvement. But you'll need constant practice to refine your technique."
He tossed her a galaxy cup snack and said, "This thing will help you get the hang of it. Don't underestimate it—if you can finish it completely without using a spoon, that means you're a natural. Got it?"
Got it?
Got your damn head!
Harvey rolled her eyes and wiped the corners of her eyes, too annoyed to argue with him.
"The clue. Hand it over."
She extended her hand. If Veil hadn't used it to bargain, she wouldn't have walked into this willingly.
"I made copies. Go ahead and look through them."
Veil pulled out a stack of documents from under the couch cushion and handed them to her.
Harvey remained standing, flipping through them page by page. As she read, her expression grew darker and darker. When she reached a particular photo she vaguely recognized, her eyes widened in shock.
"This can't be… He's still alive?! He's the one behind all this?!"
She looked at Veil in disbelief.
She never imagined that her uncle was still alive. And now, each clue pointed directly to him.
He had dismantled his own family to marry into a powerful household?
If it had just been a breakup, he'd merely be a scumbag—but this… this had cost lives!
"These clues can't be right—there has to be a mistake somewhere!" Harvey shook her head in denial, unable to accept what she was seeing.
Veil shrugged and gave a dry, signature line: "If that's what you want to believe, I won't stop you.
But I've given you the evidence. Believe it or not—it's up to you. Just don't go charging in blindly. All you'll do is alert the enemy. The family your uncle's clinging to… they've got real power in Luxhaven City. You show up trying to stir trouble, and you'll vanish the next day."
He wasn't trying to scare her—just telling the truth.
That's how the elite worked.
Even if Harvey's uncle had committed monstrous crimes, the matter would be handled discreetly within the family. Someone like Harvey—driven by emotion and unwilling to compromise—would never be allowed to walk away if she confronted them outright.
"It's really him! But why?! Why did it have to be him?!"
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes.
Her uncle, aunt, and their family elders had always been kind to her.
The tragedy back then had nearly driven her to suicide.
She didn't want to believe her uncle was involved. The corpse pulled from the fire that night had been charred beyond recognition. The investigation concluded it was him.
But now he was alive.
And he hadn't shown his face in Veyport City once since then.
Was that really his body back then? Or had he planted a decoy to fake his death and escape?
"Think of it as a little bonus," Veil said. "I'll give you one more piece of information."
He looked Harvey in the eyes, his expression serious and composed.
"The well where your aunt's body was placed—it's not as simple as you think. It wasn't just a dumping ground. It's actually a method used to suppress vengeful spirits. A way for the living to comfort themselves, afraid of being haunted by the dead."
Harvey's face turned deathly pale.
Her uncle—the man she now knew was still alive—was most likely the monster behind everything.
It was one thing to kill her aunt. But to go so far as to suppress her soul afterward?
Even if one didn't believe in souls, such cruelty sent a chill down her spine.
"You want me to go kill him, don't you?!" she snapped, gritting her teeth as she glared at him.
Veil shook his head. "Whether you kill him or not—what does that have to do with me? I just happen to really dislike a guy named Caden Voss, that's all."
"This has something to do with Caden Voss?" Harvey frowned. "Are you trying to use me to deal with him?"
Veil rolled his eyes.
He had to admit—Harvey wasn't entirely wrong. She was catching on. But that didn't mean he'd admit anything.
He gave a cold laugh. "You think too highly of yourself. You really think I'd need your help to deal with someone like him?
Enough talk. I'm tired. You can leave now."
Harvey turned and walked away, her heart heavy with bitterness and sorrow.
She had spent years chasing this case. And now that the truth was in front of her… it was worse than anything she could've imagined.
Still, it needed to be investigated.
The fact that her uncle was alive—that alone was undeniable evidence.
But alongside the burning grief in her chest, Veil had quietly planted a seed inside her. A seed of hatred… for the one who had arranged that well.
She would question Caden Voss.
And when she did, it would inevitably drag him into this mess.
Because that formation around the well—it had been set up by Caden Voss's master.
In the original story, this was the catalyst that tied Harvey and Blood Mandala to Caden Voss, entangling them in his fate.
But now?
Heh…
With the way both Harvey and Blood Mandala were now, there was no way either of them would ever fall in with Caden Voss.
What was left… was a desire for vengeance.
Pure, unfiltered killing intent.
"The pieces are already in place," Veil murmured, leaning back. "Let the game unfold on its own."