Bessie's words, more pronouncement than proposal, left me feeling conflicted.

My initial instinct was to refuse, naturally. The receptionist put forward this demonic suggestion of a mission apparently on my account alone, suggesting this should be an individual rather than team decision. More to the point, I was rationally and fundamentally opposed to taking such risk for no good reason.

But then second thoughts crept in. I had agreed to join my oh-so-supportive team for quests that could use my particular talents... a quest exactly like this one. Moreover, it seemed hardly sporting to back out of the team vote as soon as it did not personally suit, especially after my team kept helping me despite their reservations. Also, this was of course irrelevant, but I could admit to a teensy bit of curiosity regarding the possible demon.

Which reminded me... hadn't I just resolved to try to limit my distractions?

"Hey, we're not unreasonable," Bessie said, as though she could sense my inner turmoil. "You can present your case if you're really set against going, and maybe we'll see it your way. I don't think any of us are decided yet."

"I still don't get it," Tom said, punctuating her point. "If a demon's running loose, shouldn't it be obvious? Fire, brimstone, a trail of smoking bodies?"

"You are thinking of a rampaging demon," I said, instantly happier now I was back on more familiar and comfortable grounds, "One that is using its power openly. To sustain the effort, the demon requires continually taking in large amounts of energy, which is generally achieved by draining lives dry and thus leaving smoking bodies. Um, do you mind?"

"...What are you doing?" Bessie asked it.

"Multitasking. Or trying to."

I had set myself up at one of the standing desks that could fold out from the Guildhall columns, typically used by adventurers to hurriedly fill out paperwork, though I had yet to achieve anything of note on my current Scroll-in-progress. I had worried I would be seen as rude on top of unproductive, but my friends only seemed puzzled.

"Can't you just, you know, Scribe-copy Scrolls now?" Bessie said.

"Yes, but that is mana-inefficient and limited," I said. "Also, I am attempting to gain [Intermediate Scribe] and [Multitasking], ideally."

This required a further explanation of [Multitasking], which seemed to unduly excite my friends even after I'd warned of the difficulty, as though they might discover a hidden affinity.

"Why not try Meditating all the time?" Bessie said. "If you Meditate all day every day, would it still take ten years?"

"Because she needs to be more stuck in her own head," Tom said.

I might have protested, but... that was fair.

"Er..." Bessie glanced at me and away. "Well, that's still extra training for Meditation. You know what? I'm going to try it."

We eyed her with varying degrees of skepticism. Lifting her brows, she stared right back. "What?"

"It is not possible to Meditate while staying fully engaged in the outside world," I cautioned. "If you could achieve such a feat, you would likely gain [Advanced Meditation] on the spot."

Perhaps I could have worded that better, as I managed to achieve the opposite of dissuading Bessie. Still... she would figure it out on her own.

Turning back to the Scroll in front of me, I realized I had to refresh myself again on my current progress, before which Hannah said:

"So... what were we talking about again?"

We looked around at each other a little sheepishly before Blake spoke up: "Rena was telling us how a demon hides itself."

"Oh... yes," I said. "It needs to possess a willing host and suppress its own power."

Hannah was appalled. "Did you say willing? Why would anybody agree to possession?"

I'd had the same reaction, but thankfully my book had not left me in suspense. "Usually the summoner struck a deal, perhaps agreed to a temporary possession. Alternatively, the demon escaped its circle, presented an ultimatum, and extracted 'agreement,' though such a possession appears to require substantially more energy to sustain."

"Wait, wait," Bessie said. "That still sounds... You mean a demon could be anywhere? Any one of us?"

"Hiding in plain sight?" Tom's eyes darted around the Guildhall's lobby.

"No, not really." I tried to explain. "Demons inevitably give themselves away. The smallest amount of demonic power makes the possessed host's eyes burn a glowing red..."

From their reactions, my friends all knew or had heard of at least this much.

"...which, to our best current knowledge, is impossible for any demon to conceal. Additionally, they need to constantly drain victims or drink mana potions just to sustain themselves in our world; the moment they start running low on power or suffer any other lapse..."

Recalling the Scroll before me, I thought of my own lapses in attention -- I would give myself away in an instant were I a demon -- but Bessie seemed to take my pause for dramatic effect, saying, "Glowing red eyes?"

"Correct." I resolved to give multitasking another try when I wasn't the one speaking. "Demons are easily outed, and that is if they are not discovered first by Skills or artifacts. My Empathy is only one such Skill capable of perceiving possession, and I believe even [Basic Empathy] would work albeit with limitations such as a close range and single identified target."

Personally, I was much more concerned with the possibility of facing an uninhibited demon than a hidden one, and either was just one danger among the many out there. I only had to mentally review any bestiary to wonder whether it was really worth it to ever leave the library. All right, perhaps the chances of each encounter were low... but they stacked up, even before becoming an adventurer and deliberately haring off after said dangers.

"What about a truth test?" Hannah said. "Is that why they ask if we're human?"

"No, demons can lie," I said. "And their lies can fool even a truth detector."

"What?" she said.

"How?" Blake demanded.

"Racial trait?" I said. "Otherwise, nobody knows. They seem to be able to sense lies and other forms of deception themselves. They have so many other abilities too, and they differ between demons. I... I really do not think we are ready to face one."

Bessie was giving me a narrow-eyed look. "But you don't have only [Basic Empathy]. Could you spot a secret demon from a distance without it noticing you?"

"It is not that simple," I protested. "I would need to see the host to realize I am sensing an extra presence. Or perhaps if they feel terrified or horrified while they're acting naturally... what?"

My friends all felt pretty horrified. "The victim can feel everything while the demon's possessing them?" Bessie said.

"Yes...? Unless the demon's burning power to actively suppress them or puppet an unconscious body, which would preclude keeping hidden."

"Glowing red eyes?"

"Exactly."

She was nodding in thought. "But you don't need to go near or talk to the demon? Or the body they're possessing or whatever?"

"...No."

"Don't demons grow more powerful the longer they're here?" Blake said.

"Only if they are eating more than they are using," I said, "And that would be impossible to keep quiet for long."

"Unless the whole area was wiped out," Tom said, "And that's why the ones who reported the demon went silent."

We fell quiet. I for one tried not to picture the scene; I felt a surge of guilt over leaving so many people to their indeterminate fate, but what could I do? I did not feel equipped to handle a demon... only to identify one, which was the stated mission... and I had my team of adventurers and friends.

With a sigh, I started to repack my ink and parchment. I was clearly deluding myself I would get any work done at the moment. "Weren't we putting this to a vote?" I said. "Or was there more you wanted to know?"

"Anybody?" Bessie looked around, then grinned. "Well then, I call the vote. And vote yes, because I want to quest with Rena, and what a coincidence a quest like this just happened to fall into our laps."

Um. I was a bit flattered, but still: "I vote against," I said, because of course I did. That was the smart, safe, sensible decision, or so I thought but did not voice aloud.

"Yes," Tom said. "If we are interested in... looking into demons, we should do that. Or if there isn't one, pocket the easy credits."

Hannah and Blake exchanged glances, neither seeming eager to go next. I could feel Hannah's sincere uncertainty, whereas Blake just seemed to be holding off to avoid speaking. Which unfortunately meant I could guess what his vote was.

At my pointed look, he said, "Yes. It's a simple search and report mission, likely to turn up nothing. If we let you walk on this one, you'll probably keep ducking out on quests unless a sad victim's right in front of you."

That was three out of five in favor; it was decided. Hannah let out her breath, her nerves shifting into determination and excitement.

I wished I could say the same.

"You could bring Nailla if you're really that worried," Hannah pointed out. "Let her be of some use for once."

I blinked at her in surprise. I... hadn't considered that.

"Is that wise?" Tom interjected. "She'd have to return to the park."

Hannah shrugged. "Rena?"

Hmm... I considered all the factors. I would feel a lot safer with Nailla nestled in our bond, ready to be called out. But I was trying to avoid any public association especially just now between my real identity and the undine, I was not eager to endure our uncomfortable bond, and attempting to stealthily retrieve her involved its own set of risks, not to mention undue delay.

And I still didn't entirely trust Nailla. In the heat of the moment, I doubted she would care about collateral damage or my protestations.

"No need," I decided at last. "We do not expect a fight, right?"

...They seemed relieved. My friends and Nailla really didn't get along, huh?

Though we were in a bit of a hurry now we were accepting the quest, we agreed we should at least pay a visit to Duni first. I was tempted to try teleporting us directly to one of the rooms outside the Core's influence... for research! I predicted the inter-dimensional teleportation would likely fail without Duni's aid, anyway, and the risk should not be too great.

Alas, my friends vigorously vetoed the idea.

Instead, I sought to teleport us to where we had left the Core...

...and the spell fizzled.

"You miscast a spell?" Bessie asked in some surprise, reacting first.

"No... at least I do not believe so," I answered slowly, puzzling this over. "I believe my attempted destination failed... suggesting the Core room has changed substantially since we left it."

We would have heard if the dungeon had been destroyed, surely. Which left...

With renewed confidence, I tried casting from the Scroll again. This time I felt that looming presence, the universe opening a slit to peer out at me, the knowledge of a vast awareness...

...before we were once more wrenched from the teleportation room of the Adventurer's Guildhall into the familiar Core room.

And it was once more on the third floor.

Then, though we'd agreed to keep the ensuing discussion brief, I simply had to ask about their Core's self-relocation.

According to Duni, they had not known this was possible themselves until after we'd left. Lamenting their loss of mana, they had attempted to move the Core 'forward' into deeper, previously held rooms and surprisingly succeeded, though the effort drained their mana, forcing them to re-expand room by room and wait in between to recover mana.

They could have instead sacrificed a small sum of their precious Core Points to reset the Core to its optimal position, but I was happy to hear they had smartly kept their patience and CP. Moving the Core 'backwards' remained unfeasible for the dungeon without external aid.

In other words, Duni was truly unaware of their own capabilities. They needed to form a conscious intention first, and only then learned whether it was an option.

Perhaps their knowledge base operated under similar principles? They did not know what they did not know, but upon hearing an unfamiliar term they suddenly learned its meaning. This new hypothesis stood in contrast to my previous one, which was that Duni's sudden understandings came from their superior translation ability. And of course Duni could lend no additional insight into which if either theory was likelier to be true.

Speaking of sudden understandings, they were quick to endorse our investigation into potential new minions, which was how they perceived demons. Our best efforts at explaining the hazards only seemed to make demons ever more recruitable by dungeon standards.

Unfortunately, I had no time -- wasn't that always the issue? -- to continue our discussion. For now.

Thanks to Tom's pointed reminders, we did manage to keep our visit brief.

Happily, as this was an official mission, the Adventurer's Guild would cover the portal fees.

Less happily, portal use precluded bringing any of our enchanted equipment, including my mage robe, staff, and Scrolls.

After a quiet discussion, we agreed to use the portals as offered... except we then proceeded to return almost immediately, reequip ourselves, and use my Scroll of Advanced Teleportation.

"Seriously, we should bring you on quests more often," Bessie said. "Or can't you lend us your Scroll?"

"Unfortunately not, as it isn't mine," I said regretfully.

She sighed. "You Scholars and your magical contracts."

As per apparent standard procedure, we approached the front desk first for the full briefing and any updates on the local mission.

"Hi!" Bessie flashed the receptionist a smile. "We're sent from Wilton by Marie."

"Team Multi-Movers?" he asked.

"That's us!"

"Wait just a moment." He flipped a sign on his desk and disappeared into the backroom.

A-ha! Triumphantly, I retrieved my Scroll-making materials from my packed bag.

"Sure you want to do that?" Bessie said. "He'll be back soon."

I hesitated with my quill over the ink bottle, ready to dip in. I glanced at the still-closed door, then couldn't help but ask, "And how is your Meditation going?"

"Eh... I forgot," she admitted shamelessly.

Just then the receptionist reemerged with another man, who headed straight for us; I hurriedly repacked my things. After an exchange of greetings and introductions, the latter receptionist summarized the situation.

The action all took place in the small town of Milbaro, around twenty miles from the current city of Zibarro; since he helpfully projected a labeled map from his pocket orb, I was able to read and remember the place names. The principal cast entailed a bullied boy, his three female bullies, and his girlfriend, who was also bullied.

(He gave full names to accompany the character descriptions, which I promptly forgot. Couldn't the guild consider transcribing mission summaries? Also, was this sort of briefing... usual?)

The first of these townspeople apparently transformed overnight from chump to Casanova, which is when he gained said girlfriend. He then proceeded to cheat on her with two of his former bullies in turn, each time viciously breaking off relations and leaving the spurned party so depressed as to be bedridden. The third bully went to the Watch claiming she'd known something unnatural must be afoot, as her friends were both heartless vipers who'd only wanted to spite that loser's girlfriend, so she'd secretly followed him and caught 'his eyes literally flashing red.'

Zibarro's Watch thus received two calls, one from the bully, gushing with hysteria and venom, and the other from a guard related to one of the bedridden victims, recounting the above 'facts,' along with two conclusions of probably, definitely demon possession.

Incidentally, the boy was the oldest of these people at seventeen. His girlfriend was only fourteen.

"So then what happened?" Bessie asked, leaning forward eagerly, genuinely invested in the drama.

"Nobody gave much credence to the reports at first," the guild employee said. "However, two days later, which was yesterday, the girl called back to say she was wrong, she'd just been 'jealous and stupid.' Earlier today the Watch guard likewise recanted. Both callers were asked to come into the city to fill out some paperwork. When they didn't respond, the Watch was called and found they'd been swarmed by nettlers."

"Nettlers?" Bessie asked.

I instinctively opened my mouth to reply, but he appeared prepared for the question, already answering: "Pests. Their stings aren't fatal, fortunately, but they can bring out your worst impulses. Like depression, paranoia, or skirt-chasing." He smiled with grim humor. "Some call them 'little demons.'"

"Um," I said, "I don't understand why the guild is handling this instead of the Watch?"

He snorted and seemed to want to say something but then changed his mind. "Because they can't handle a demon."

"Still, it doesn't sound like there's a real demon," Bessie said.

I looked at her askance, though she'd managed not to make her disappointment obvious.

"Guild policy says we have to treat the possibility seriously," he said. "Also, the nettlers could be a demon trying to cover its tracks."

I felt a sudden chill. The earlier mission briefing had sounded so ridiculous I'd actually relaxed, but... of course, we couldn't know what to expect.

"On that subject, would you like to set periodic check-ins as per policy? Just in case?"

"We don't have comm-crystals," Bessie admitted.

"Ah..." I thought the receptionist was clearly having second thoughts about sending us out there, though his eyes lingered on... me?

And Hannah, who suddenly spiked with guilt. Catching my inquisitive gaze, she spoke up: "I have one now, actually."

We all stared at her. She avoided looking at us as she tapped open her belt pouch, from which she produced a glowing blue crystal, an older model. The receptionist barely glanced at it before I felt the tiniest ripple of mana on both their ends, a screen popped open on hers, and then he nodded in satisfaction. "Every thirty minutes, starting now?"

"Uh... do you mind if I try it out first?"

Hannah felt even more embarrassed than she looked, but the man just smiled reassuringly. "No worries. Go ahead."

Thanks to the awkward atmosphere, while we waited I was suddenly conscious of how we all looked. Hannah was wearing a full set of personalized, handcrafted armor, courtesy of her parents. They'd tried to keep things relatively modest in appearance, leaving out any decorative fluff, but that was still high-quality enchanted steel, and her personally crafted bow and arrows didn't look cheap either. Similarly, here I stood in Georgina's handcrafted robe with Scrolls and potions tucked up my sleeves, carrying my staff; ironically, my bag was the cheapest-seeming item on me.

Meanwhile, Bessie and Tom were wearing basic leather armor of middling quality, while Blake skulked in the shadows under his plain hooded cloak. Except for some relatively recent purchases -- Bessie's gauntlet, Tom's shield, Blake's hidden dagger -- they fit the classic barefoot adventurer stereotype, and they knew it too.

I bit my lip as Hannah thanked the receptionist again, turned, and marched red-faced off for the door, leaving us to hurry after her. She didn't look at us as she said, "Don't tell my parents, all right? They already hover enough. But it seemed silly not to buy one in case."

"You could have just said," Bessie said. "We aren't jealous of your money or anything. I mean, I'm a little jealous, but no more than I'm jealous of Blake's speed, or Rena's magic, or Tom's... er..."

"Hey! I resemble that remark."

"Tom's show watching while cooking, definitely."

Hannah cracked a smile. "I wasn't hiding it exactly," she said, like a liar, "I just didn't want to say anything while you don't have your own yet."

Personally, I did not understand the problem. The others genuinely didn't seem to resent or covet her greater wealth, so what was the issue here? But there clearly was an issue. I was squirming in vicarious discomfort on her behalf when the subject was thankfully dropped, or rather we emerged out into the city.

On paper, Zibarro was just a small city in the small country of Tiguana, near the Solarian Empire. In person, as Bessie put it... "Wow, this place has character!"

My personal impression of the architecture was that it had all been built expressly to partake in festivities. The windows were all differently sized and shaped, and most of them slanted; similarly, I didn't spot one identical or rectangular-shaped doorway. And there was more color than in the Adventurer's Guildhall.

In contrast, the people just looked like regular people. After flagging down a public airboat, our ferryman readily explained, "This here's the hometown of Grandmaster Mage Mellon!"

...No wonder all the color.

"Grew up right strong, he did, and didn't forget us, oh no..."

My friends were all listening attentively but blankly. When I looked at them in confusion, Tom whispered from the side of his mouth: "Accent."

Oh, he just seemed to be speaking Common to me.

When we approached the town, we asked him to slow the airboat and ready to possibly reverse course. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself.

Now the moment had come, my heart was beating quickly; I was afraid of what we would find. Demons enjoyed sowing misery and hatred, but even that would be better than burnt corpses piling the streets.

...No, I was letting my imagination run away from me. I closed my eyes and stretched my senses, trying to separate out what was mere wildlife...

"I can hear them," Blake said dryly. "They're fine."

Now that he mentioned it... wait, was that the town? We let the airboat speed up again, and then we were gazing down.

Unlike its eccentric nearest city, Milbaro was rather ordinary in appearance. Except... the streets were full of people talking and laughing, singing and dancing, and though I could feel pockets of unhappiness, the overall mood was buoyant.

"Oh, are you going to a party?" the ferryman asked. "What's the event?"

Bessie looked to me for help, so I answered: "Um. No idea."

The confused ferryman seemed a little disappointed we weren't inviting him to join the fun, but he accepted our thanks and payment with good humor before flying off. "So... What do you think?" Tom asked as we strolled past a deserted Watch post.

"That it's Rena's lucky day." Bessie sighed. "We really need you to join us sometime on a real quest."

"Hey, don't jinx it," Tom said.

"There's still the nettlers," I reminded them and then paused, because this positive atmosphere suggested otherwise. Then again... there were those negative feelings mixed in.

"Excuse me?" Bessie had marched up to a pair of giggling old women. I couldn't help noticing they were both dressed up, wearing elegant dresses and matching hats and gloves. "Can you tell us what is happening here?"

"Huh?" one said. "Who are you?"

"More adventurers!" The other's eyes lit up. "Do you know Team Thornado?"

When we established we were adventurers but we did not, we were proudly informed Team Thornado were the heroes who'd descended from the sky to wipe out all the swarming nettlers. They were the Saviors of Milbaro, as of an hour or so ago, and also -- more giggles -- they were really good-looking.

"So... everything's already over?" Bessie glanced at me and shook her head. "Just ended?"

"No, no," the more chatty granny said. "The party's just getting started!"

No, not that again, though it was definitely better than a demon. By this point I felt assured there wasn't one, which conversely made me happier to hurry and conduct a thorough investigation.

The only pity was that it was always harder to prove a negative.

"And where might we find these esteemed adventurers?" Hannah was saying. She nodded seriously at the answer, before grinning. "That should be the heart of the party, then!"

She was right; the bulk of the people and dancing were at the central plaza. Still, it was nothing like how crowded cities could be, and many townsfolk were just sitting to the side and drinking, so it was easy to spot the first adventurer.

It helped that she stood out, wearing a full suit of shining enchanted armor, only the helmet off and clipped to her side, letting her long blonde hair blow free...

...and that she was one of the few markedly unhappy people. She was speaking with a tranquil expression on her lovely face to some evident admirers, but inwardly she was churning with hurt, bitterness, jealousy, and other negative emotions.

Spotting us, she said something and then began striding over, the long mace at her back not so much as swaying with the movement. She glanced to the side as she did, and following her gaze... I froze.

It was another adventurer, also wearing armor, also fine-featured and with long hair, though his was pale-blond. Also unhappy, though he seemed to be speaking intimately with a young and pretty girl. And...

I was instantly struck by the sight of him.

"Good-looking, all right." Hannah whistled.

"Rena, you're drooling," Bessie teased.

I snapped my mouth shut and swallowed, cursing inwardly as his jealous teammate reached us. For staring at that handsome, charismatic face, and deeper, to that troubled, tormented soul, I knew...

We had a demon possession, all right.