Paris.
The shadow of war loomed over the city, with newspapers reporting unfavorable news from the front lines. Every cold, harsh word filled the citizens with dread and unease.
War led to the collapse of order, and the collapse of order spawned more crimes, accelerating the descent into chaos.
The entire city, no—the entire nation—was shrouded in a bleak, oppressive gloom.
Bar.
The Night Monarch Setoras placed two glasses of liquor on the bar top. His flowing black hair framed the face of a strikingly handsome young man—the mortal guise of his existence.
The two guests were top enforcer Enguima and HR manager Martia. The former was a towering hulk of muscle, while the latter presented herself as a sophisticated lady clad in a black dress.
Their images represented starkly different social standings, and ordinarily, they wouldn't cross paths—unless the lady had affairs with both.
In any case, the three heads of the Devil Alliance were making something of a spectacle.
