Demi-human Girls Completion Manual Chapter 1351 - 27: Inquiry

"Oh no! There is something foul!"

While Fisher initially believed it to be a consequence of wielding the **Soul Completion Manual**, causing corresponding illusions, Emhardt, held within his arms, sensed something amiss. He trembled, managed to break free from Fisher's embrace, and scrambled towards the rear of the shipyard.

The surrounding darkness instantaneously intensified, becoming thick and viscous. Yet, for an inexplicable reason, the menacing aura felt surprisingly familiar to Fisher.

His gaze fell upon Lilim beside him, and he noticed that her face, which should have been monstrous and hideous, had dramatically transformed into an exquisite visage, hidden within the gloom, emitting a radiant smile.

The vicinity of the normally damp and chilly abandoned shipyard appeared to be engulfed in the inferno of Hell, spread before his eyes by an infinite sea of Chaos, only to be consumed by a dark tide, with Helair's silhouette faintly discernible within the spectacle.

Fisher found himself unable to discern whether this was a fabrication of his mind or the actual reality. Nor could he ascertain if the Demon before him was merely an illusion or if Helair had disguised herself as Lilim.

Veiled by the darkness, Fisher could not perceive her form or her neck. Even her exquisitely sculpted face was but a vague outline.

However, at that precise moment, all he could utter in stunned disbelief was,

"Hel...air?"

"You are being quite mischievous, my dear."

Helair's smile widened as she responded from within the darkness, her voice a soft whisper. She continued,

"If you wish to see me, simply state it directly. Why involve others... As long as you express your desire, I shall heed it. That Little Fellow should have informed you of this."

"Ahhhhh, Fisher! Run! That accursed Paimon!! She has arrived!!"

Behind him, Emhardt darted frantically around the shipyard like a headless chicken, desperately seeking any avenue of escape.

But in his sheer panic, he was utterly disoriented, completely unable to find a way out.

Although Helair did not cast a glance in Emhardt's direction, Fisher sensed something surge from the darkness beside him, moving at incredible speed towards Emhardt's location.

It resembled a swift slap.

"Smack!"

"Ouch!"

Following the unseen blow, Emhardt's screams and the sound of his body falling and tumbling across the ground reverberated from within the shipyard.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Silence descended once more upon the scene. Helair, with a smiling glance back at Emhardt, refocused her gaze on Fisher, who was intently observing her.

Fisher, meeting her gaze, after a brief pause, still inquired,

"Helair, what is this game you spoke of?"

"You are already aware, dear."

Helair glided closer to Fisher, bestowing a gentle kiss upon the corner of his lips, conjuring a melody as ethereal and dream-like as a fantasy.

"You mean... the Doomsday Prophecy?"

"Is that truly it?"

Fisher's brow furrowed slightly, clearly displeased with her evasive reply. He moved forward, firmly cupping her chin, causing her cheeks to flush and her head to tilt upwards slightly.

"Ya..."

"Helair, what are you? What is it that you intend to do?"

Observing her feigned coquettishness and radiant expression, Fisher understood she was teasing him.

Yet, her nonchalance did not diminish Fisher's intrigue; rather, it amplified his curiosity about the secrets she harbored within the shadows.

"Why were you able to activate the Seal on my waist back then? That Seal contains the power of a True God; how could you achieve it so effortlessly?

What transpired between you, Pandora, and Remiel beneath the Ideal Country? Does it relate to the birth of the Demon? And why did you release them? For what purpose..."

Fisher pressed closer to Helair bit by bit, his progressively aggressive demeanor seeming to stem from beyond himself as, for some reason, whispers began to fill his ears once more, gradually eroding his rationality.

Helair's lovely countenance appeared to ripple slightly beneath his grip, her expression instantly shifting to one of pitiful vulnerability as she looked up at Fisher, her plea soft and tender,

"It hurts..."

Fisher faltered, his hand freezing as her voice continued, shaky and weak.

"What is wrong with you... You are frightening me now..."

"I..."

Suddenly, Fisher's gaze darted to his own hand, which had reached out perhaps too far. He took a deep breath, realizing he had lost control.

"I apologize..."

Just as he intended to withdraw his hand and cease his insistent questioning with a contrite heart, a sharp, piercing pain surged from his fingertips the very next instant.

"Hiss..."

He looked down to witness her mischievous mouth had moved from his finger still holding her chin, leaving behind a distinct bite mark marred with blood, an act akin to coquetterie or retribution serving as a stark reminder to Fisher.

"You..."

As Fisher began to utter a response, Helair seemed to anticipate his words. She gently took the bitten finger into her mouth, tenderly licking away the peculiar wound, causing it to vanish as if it had never been there.

Indeed, it was only in Helair's presence that Fisher felt every action he took was foreseen and that her responses consistently left him incapable of formulating a retort, thereby preventing him from admonishing her occasional impudence.