She is not an investigator.

Perhaps out of nostalgia, or perhaps out of sentimentality about everything they had been through, Igris still held the white rabbit in her arms and stroked its ears.

It's fluffy, warm, comfortable, and soft.

But suddenly, Igris looked toward a corner of the room.

That's where the wardrobe is placed, but due to some layout issues, it's not completely flush against the wall; there are some small gaps.

The sunlight didn't reach there, and there were no lights in the room.

It was dark there, but Igris should have been able to see everything in that darkness.

Her blessed eyes should have long ago been able to see through all darkness and gloom.

But she still couldn't see; everything there had become blurry, with only intense, malicious gazes constantly peering at Igris and provoking her.

She heard unfamiliar words, as if someone was constantly repeating noisy and meaningless sounds in her ear.

They never stopped, shouting and speaking in languages ​​Igris couldn't understand, trying to pull Igris into the revelry that belonged to all of them.

Igris couldn't understand, but she seemed to be getting to understand—those nauseating sounds, those maddening sounds.

Igris—Igris—

They were calling her name, trying to drag Igris into the abyss, and all her senses were amplified infinitely—smell, hearing, and sight.

She began to see things that shouldn't be there, smelled a faint odor in the room, and heard sticky footsteps lingering.

No...no...

A fear she had never experienced before crept over her, sending chills down her spine and making her tremble.

The Mirror Demon stopped in its tracks, looking up at Igris's flustered movements, terrified expression, and increasingly confused eyes.

It never knew what Igris was going through, even though it could sense her chilling despair and fear.

She wished someone could keep her company.

But the Mirror Demon is not human; it is an anomaly, an existence beyond reason.

It has no temperature and brings no warmth whatsoever.

So even if it reached out its hand, Igris would only retreat in terror again, close her eyes, and curl up in fear, like a frail girl for the first time, terrified of everything around her.

The Gods' Folly - Regret: Chapter Twenty-Six, That Time and That Moment

Igris forgot how she survived. When she woke up, there was no sunlight around her. The door was closed, and the lights were on in the room. She was curled up against the window, and outside the window was the bright moon.

She slowly stretched out her body, gradually shedding the trembling sensation and allowing reason to return to her.

She looked to her side, where another version of herself lay—the Mirror Demon, still keeping Igris company, though it looked somewhat sleepy.

But it probably isn't dead.

Igris silently reached out and touched the Mirror Demon's motionless body.

The cold touch made her heart flutter slightly, but fortunately, the Mirror Demon opened its eyes.

She looked at Igris, at the vulnerability in her that was so different from her usual resilience and ease, and at her slightly trembling outstretched hand.

"I'm here, I'll always be with you, remember?"

The Mirror Demon also extended its hand and grasped Igris's hand.

Its hands were very cold, as cold as ice.

But Igris quickly realized that it wasn't its hand, it was her own.

She was the one who was truly shivering from the cold; she was the one who was the block of ice.

Her problem was getting worse, but she didn't know how to solve it.

Everything happened without warning, and there was no reason to look for it.

The mirror demon was trying to help her, but both she and it knew it wouldn't do any good.

And so, the Mirror Demon uttered those words.

“I… I’m serious, Igris.”

It gripped Igris's arm, revealing for the first time such a reluctant and sorrowful expression.

“I know you’re having a tough time, surviving… or even just continuing to live, is incredibly difficult. I won’t try to persuade you to enjoy life, because I’ve seen far too many people who have completely lost faith in their own lives… I believe you’re different from those people, but… but…”

It placed Igris's arm on its chest, revealing an extremely troubled expression that was both crying and laughing.

"The last thing I can do for you is to let you die happily, so Igris... if you really can't keep going, it's okay, you've already... done a great job."

It didn't know what its mindset was when it said those words, whether to Igris or to itself.

It loves Igris, wants to see every corner of the world with her, and become her close companion.

It didn't want to kill Igris with its own hands, but if doing so could make her feel even a little bit better... even just a little bit...

Will it really do that?

"I'm not as fragile as you think, you know?"

Igris pulled her hand away, rubbed it vigorously, and took a deep breath to warm her somewhat cold palms.

“I know, Igris, I know.”

The Mirror Demon's body is no longer a mirror, otherwise it would love to let Igris see for herself the terrified expression she once wore.

That wasn't like her, yet it was her; it was probably a vulnerability she had never shown before.

Phobias – this is probably another stage in the worsening of her condition.

"...Come back first, I'm a little hungry."

Igris looked out the window at the somewhat dark street. She didn't know what time it was, but she was definitely a little hungry.

It seems like she hasn't eaten anything all day.

"sure…"

The mirror demon said nothing more; it disappeared from the room and returned to the mirror.

Igris tightened her clothes, gently pushed open the door, and prepared to go for a stroll on the street.

But a sudden, indescribable hunger surged into her mind, causing her to pause slightly.

Along with the feeling of hunger came a strong smell of blood.

"...No way."

In a place like this, would such a thing still exist?

……

"How should I address you, Miss?"

At a certain corner, Olivia crossed her arms and looked coldly at the figure in front of her.

Her arm was injured, and the exact details are still unclear, but the continuous bleeding suggests that Olivia's wound is likely not shallow.

Why were you hiding in front of that house?

Olivia did not answer, but instead asked the figure in front of her a question that belonged to her.

"I can go wherever I want... You should thank me instead."

Isabella leaned against the wall, the dagger in her hand twirling slightly as she watched Olivia with interest.

"How's your hand? That cut didn't break the bone, did it?"

"…No."

Even though it's still bleeding, the wound isn't particularly deep, and if things go as expected, it will probably heal in a short time.

"Then let me explain, Miss."

Isabella slowly approached Olivia, the dagger in her hand casually pointing at her throat, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Why are you here at this time, and why are you fighting with that fugitive?"

…………

The timeline goes back to shortly after Igris returned home.

Because of her illness, Igris fell into a deep sleep early, and Olivia, as planned, arrived at her door and knocked.

Naturally, she received no response, since Igris's condition prevented her from making any response.

Helpless, Olivia could only leave somewhat disappointed, planning to try again later to see Igris.

So she came back in the afternoon.

But Igris still didn't open the door, and no matter how much she called out, there was no response.

Olivia thought Igris was not there, so she left again.

Olivia returned to the area just before evening.

She knew that Igris had nowhere else to go in this city, and she also knew that no matter what, Igris would return home at this time.

But before she could knock on the door, an uninvited guest arrived in the area that should have belonged to the witches.

He attacked Olivia almost without hesitation. Olivia, who had no time to react, could only block the attack with her arm, leaving a very obvious wound.

But Olivia shouldn't have been in any danger on such streets, because even in the evening, there would still be many people patrolling the area to protect the little witches.

But once Olivia saw his true condition, that sense of relief vanished.

He was like a monster, dragging the bodies of countless nearby guards, pierced by chains, with one hand, moving slowly, while using the knife in his other hand to try to kill anyone who came near.

This also includes Olivia.

Therefore, she only had two choices.

Run, or shoot.

So she chose the second option, because Igris's house was right behind her.

She couldn't be sure if Igris was alright, but she couldn't bear to see her in trouble.

So... she fired the gun.

The gunshots didn't attract any more people, but they scared the guy away.