absurd deduction game.

Outside the window, the rain is still pouring down.

The dense raindrops pounded against the glass window, creating a continuous, almost violent roar.

Pale lightning flashed intermittently, tearing through the night sky. Each flash illuminated the luxurious furnishings in the small living room in minute detail before plunging back into darkness in the next instant.

Men's dark trench coats and women's turquoise silk dresses were scattered on the expensive carpet, along with shoes and socks strewn about. The sofa, bearing a weight and force far exceeding its original design, creaked rhythmically under its strain, its sound drowned out by the torrential rain.

The woman's shadow was faintly reflected on the wall through the occasional flashes of lightning outside the window. She straddled her new lover, kissing him deeply, her back arching in a breathtaking curve. Her long hair was already loose, curling and draped over her smooth shoulders.

Her waist was incredibly slender, as if it would break at the slightest touch. It was being held tightly in a pair of male hands, and her shadow swayed, revealing a fragile beauty that was breathtaking.

In the darkness, whispers intertwined, and Furnel occasionally let out a low laugh, light and joyful, yet like a bubble rising from the bottom of an abyss, carrying a cold echo.

She placed her hands, painted with dark green nail polish, on the chest of the man beneath her, which heaved with each breath.

The dark green was so rich and vibrant that it seemed to come alive in the dim light, flowing and permeating along the warm lines of her skin. She admired the powerful beating of her heart beneath her palm and felt life thriving at her fingertips.

Slowly, she leaned down and gently gripped the man's neck with one hand.

She watched his grey-blue hair rustle on the sofa, a smile playing on her lips. Her breath hot against his ear, her voice hoarse with passion, she murmured, "..."
"Do you like it this way, Carlos?"

There was a brief silence.

Then, the hand that had been holding her waist lifted up and gently grasped her wrist that was clenching his neck. He didn't push her away or resist; it was as if it were a tacit agreement.

In the darkness, a pair of emerald green eyes reflected her beautiful yet indistinct outline, with an elusive, almost playful smile.

“Madam,” the magician began, his voice equally deep and husky, with a slight upward inflection at the end, “I like it.”

His answer was like a drop of boiling oil poured on Furnel's already burning desire, igniting a raging fire of lust.

The lightning briefly stopped.

The room was plunged into pure, thick darkness, with only the sound of rain intensifying, like countless angry hands pounding against the windowpanes, or like the wailing of angel statues in the Harvest Church as they witnessed the investigator's death.

In the absolute darkness, all that remained of Fernal's beautiful face was a blurry silhouette with a joyful smile.

She gazed down, sensing through the magician's skin that the butterfly larvae sent into his body had now crawled into his brain.

Oh... what a pity.

Why couldn't this investigator, who was so perfect for her, join the cult like his good colleague? But now it's too late; soon, his brain will be slowly eroded and replaced from the inside out... just like Anthony.

His body will become a breeding ground for larvae, no longer special, and thrown together with the old breeding grounds.

But Fernal will miss him.

She will use a blasphemous ritual to give birth to a newborn two-headed baby from the body that possesses the genes of an excellent investigator.

She vowed that when the new divine kingdom descended and the old world was rebuilt after its destruction, she would pour out her love and mold it into the happiest family under the gods.

The thought of that scene filled Fernal with excitement, much like when she was a young girl calling out to Mary in front of a mirror, only to hear the ravings of an evil god for the first time, causing her carefully constructed composure to crumble.

Her body began to tremble, and beneath her thin skin, faint, dark green veins appeared like a spiderweb.

A piece of skin, about the size of a fingernail, near her cheekbone, lost its luster as it throbbed, its edges curling slightly, and then, like wallpaper that has lost its stickiness after being soaked in water, it peeled off silently.

The piece of skin floated down lightly, landing precisely on the man's taut abdominal muscles below, bringing a cool and unusual sensation.

"Hmm?" The man seemed to pause slightly, uttering a muffled question tinged with lingering lust.

He freed one hand and groped in the darkness, picking it up as if trying to identify it by touch, but failed. His tone was puzzled: "What is this?"

His reaction was so normal, so normal it was almost cute, Fernal thought.

Perhaps, it would be a mistake to "get rid of" him after having an affair.

That's such a waste.

She should let him see it now.

Just as darkness and joy intertwine, tear away this facade and let him see the truth lurking beneath.

That way, she could witness how Carlos's ever-smiling emerald eyes were frozen by the icy chill of terror; hear how his always-effortless voice uttered the most piercing, desperate screams and curses; and then, as he struggled to escape this terrifying incubator, she could gently yet cruelly tell him what true, inescapable despair was.

What a...intoxicating sight that must be.

"Boom——!"

Another exceptionally thick bolt of lightning struck down fiercely, its pale light like a searchlight, instantly illuminating the entire small living room with a deathly brightness.

The shadows on the wall have never been so clear.

The shadow belonging to Fernail remained as beautiful as ever, but the center of her spine began to throb unnaturally and rhythmically, one beat after another, as if something alive beneath her skin was about to burst forth from the earth.

The surging energy expanded, and the outline of the shadow twisted and swelled, radiating an ominous, maddening vitality.

The light faded and darkness returned, but the pulsating sensation and the subtle, rustling sound, like countless tiny claws scraping inside, seemed to linger in the air, growing ever clearer.

“Carlos,” Fernail’s voice broke the darkness, panting, “How long have you been an investigator?”

The man beneath her seemed to adjust his breathing before replying in the same hoarse voice, "Seven or eight years, I guess."

"Then you must have been to many places."

"Yes."

"You've seen many terrifying monsters, haven't you?"

“I’ve seen a lot,” he said, his tone even carrying a hint of casual reminiscence, “but very few things can frighten me.”

Fennell chuckled softly, then paused, as if considering a very particular question: "So... have you ever fantasized about sleeping with these monsters?"

This time, there was no reply, and a few seconds of complete silence were filled only by the sound of rain and the mingling of breaths.

Then came the magician's question, delivered in a tone of incomprehension and near absurdity:
"what?"

Fernail didn't care about his astonishment. Her voice became softer and gentler, with a seductive and persuasive quality: "I'm asking you, have you ever fantasized about these monsters? Don't you want to explore them? You know, they are very different from humans. Only in them can you see a beauty that is completely different from humans and that you have never seen before—" She raised herself slightly, and although they couldn't see each other clearly in the darkness, she knew that her gaze was "falling" on his face.

"—Do you think I'm beautiful, Carlos?"

After a brief silence, the magician gave an affirmative answer: "Of course, the lady's beauty is beyond doubt."

“You see,” Fernail said softly, with a naive yet chilling sigh in her voice, “no one, whether they hate me or love me, can deny my beauty. But…”

“I don’t think this is the limit. This skin, this human body… it only imprisons beauty.”

Her body began to undergo more noticeable changes.

The dark green lines beneath her skin became increasingly clear, and the throbbing spread from her spine to her torso and limbs. Another piece of skin peeled off from her shoulder, revealing a slightly reflective texture, like the chitinous shell of an insect.

“Carlos,” her voice carried a strange heat, “I want you to see true beauty.”

Fernal was no longer satisfied with the cover of darkness.

A sense of danger grew within her. She cupped the man's face, gently pulling it upwards, and whispered:

"Look up and look at me."

As if summoned by this evil and chaotic scene, the next lightning bolt that tore through the sky was brighter and longer than ever before!

On the wall, the female shadow belonging to Funel trembled violently, its head snapping back sharply as if its cervical vertebrae had snapped at that moment!
A tearing sound.

The sounds of rain and breathing seemed to be stripped away at this moment, and a sharp, teeth-grinding sound, like thick silk being sliced ​​open by a knife, exploded in the living room.

On Furner's chest, shoulders, smooth back, and slender waist, her skin was cracked like dried parchment, and from those cracks, one after another, palm-sized, wet, curled-up objects struggled to emerge.

It's a butterfly.

Dark green butterflies.

They looked as if they had just broken free from the viscous pupal fluid, their wings still tightly wrapped around their bodies, covered in slime, gleaming with a greasy and sinister sheen in the cold light of the lightning.

As the butterflies broke free of their "shells," Furner's blood vessels were also pulled and ruptured, and a few seconds later, a liquid was pumped out—not bright red blood, but a thicker, darker, dark green sap with a strong, sweet, and fishy smell, like rotten plant sap.

The liquid splashed outwards like a small fountain, most of it landing on the magician below. The thick, cold liquid with a pungent smell instantly soaked through his neck and chest.

One, two, three... and more and more.

Within a second or two, countless dark green butterflies emerged from various parts of Fennell's body. They did not fly away, but crowded together on her body, which was now unrecognizable and could barely still be identified as human.

The wet wings trembled slightly in the air, and began to slowly open and close, trying to shake off the sticky substance and make the wings dry and flexible. The frequency of the wing flapping was quite chaotic at first, but soon, as if under some unified command, it became uniform.

The dense, subtle flapping of wings combined to form a rhythm, as if replacing her breathing.

Fernail's beautiful head, however, became the most jarring feature on this bizarre body.

It still retained its human form, its beautiful face even radiating an astonishing glow due to extreme excitement, its red lips curving into a twisted arc of pleasure.

She gazed at the magician below with an almost affectionate, appreciative look, as if he had stopped moving in shock at the horrifying turn of events and seemed to have lost his mind.

Her red lips parted slightly, and in a still-human, sweet voice, she spoke gently:

"Don't even think about running away, darling."

The moment the words fell—

A straight crack appeared at the very center of the top of the beautiful head, and the crack quickly spread downwards, branching out like the cracks on an ice surface.

Then, after a soft "crack" sound, like an eggshell breaking—

Torn apart.

There was no brain, no bones. The broken skin and soft tissue withered and peeled away inward like wilting flower petals.

Instead, there was a gigantic butterfly so large it sent shivers down your spine.

The dark green butterfly's head and part of its thorax emerged proudly from the broken skull. Its compound eyes were composed of countless tiny hexagonal crystals that refracted cold light, devoid of any emotion, only endless depth and greed. Then, it suddenly flapped its wings.

Those wings... were larger than imagined.

When fully extended, their wingspan even exceeds the length of the entire sofa. To the magician who is pressed beneath them and covered in slime, the shadow cast by these butterfly wings, covered with intricate patterns that seem to flow with liquid darkness and starlight, is like a dark cloud covering the sky.

When its wings were fully spread, they even produced a clear, damp, and fishy sound as they cut through the air.

At this moment, "Fennell" has completely disappeared.

On the sofa lay a creature, surrounded by countless palm-sized, dark green butterflies—a being that defied any existing biological classification, both exquisitely beautiful and terrifyingly so.

Like a nest.

Countless small butterflies and the giant butterfly in the center resonate with their wings at a mysterious frequency. The air is stirred by this high-frequency vibration, producing a deep, resonant buzzing sound.

And these buzzing sounds strangely combined to form "Fennell's" familiar, smiling voice:

"Now……"

Countless compound eyes, large and small, cold gazes focused on the poor human investigators below, bracing themselves to witness resistance and fear.

"...Did you see the beauty?"

The magician neither answered nor moved.

This action made the giant butterfly Fennell impatiently shake its limbs, raise its already broken human arm, and touch the magician's face.

Then, the magician's face withered.

Even faster than Furnel, the festering sores spread rapidly from the magician's face to his entire body. He was like a piece of paper soaked in water, quickly losing its thickness, becoming thin and wrinkled, before disappearing onto the sofa, leaving behind an unhatched larva in the location of his brain.

Before it disappeared completely, Fennell heard a mocking laugh.

She immediately realized that from the moment she kissed Carlos—before all the pleasure even began—that the damned investigator had already discovered her identity and run away!
All that's left is this... this thing that dissolves in water. Is this some kind of Eastern sorcery?! (End of Chapter)