Became a Demon with Pregnancy System-Chapter 132: Evil Dragon

She threw him a warning glare. "Watch it with that ’Senior Sister’ talk. I’m not your teacher." Then she gestured for a few of her subordinates—men in black uniforms with the Judgment Society’s insignia—to handle the rest.

"Secure them and see if they’ll confirm any involvement with Councilor Mann. Keep it quiet—I don’t want rumors circulating."

"Yes, ma’am." They saluted, beginning to drag the criminals away.

Luke glanced around. "So...where’s the exit? The corridor is a mess."

Lenora sighed. "Follow me." She turned on her heel and led him through winding hallways, stepping over rubble left from blasts of thunder and stone.

They passed the club’s now-deserted main lounge, where a few stunned patrons still lingered at the edges, unsure how to react to the sudden confrontation. The late-night hush felt heavy, as though the entire building held its breath.

Eventually, they emerged into the cool Arcadia night. Raindrops dribbled in a half-hearted drizzle. The streetlight overhead cast a pale glow on the puddles at their feet.

Across the road, Walter Murphy could be seen peering out from behind the tinted window of a luxurious sedan.

His eyes met Luke’s, and he gave a nervous, almost pleading smile, as if to say, I saw everything—don’t kill me. Luke waved him over with an urgent gesture.

Walter slipped out of the car. He wore an expensive suit, but the anxious sweat on his brow detracted from any air of confidence. "Tutor Lu—er, Luke—uh, everything okay in there?" His gaze flickered warily at Lenora.

Lenora’s posture stiffened, eyes glacial. "Walter Murphy, yes? We need to talk about your involvement in the blood agent supply chain."

Walter blanched, looking from Luke to Lenora and back again. "I—I don’t know what you mean. My family’s just providing packaging and distribution.

The official specs come from the Arcadia military lab." He swallowed. "We’re just the middlemen. We wouldn’t dare tamper with the formula."

Lenora’s gaze pinned him. "Then explain why criminals in that building reference connections to your operation. They’re staging poison incidents to discredit the Totem Serpent. We suspect a high-level figure might be orchestrating it, using your distribution as cover."

Walter’s jaw dropped. "P-poison incidents? Wait, no, we only handle sealed containers from the labs—filling them into smaller vials for field medics, that’s all. But...there was a new directive from a certain official—some modifications in the packaging process. We thought it was standard procedure."

Luke took a step forward. "Which official gave you those instructions, Walter?"

Walter rubbed his temple nervously. "The order came from, um...someone identified as part of Councilor Laurence Mann’s staff.

A liaison named Quentin Lane. He insisted we keep it confidential for ’security reasons.’ We didn’t think to question it."

Lenora’s eyes flickered with a kind of grim satisfaction: it aligned perfectly with Luke’s suspicion that Mann was behind the scheme. "So, you have documentation?" she pressed.

Walter nodded timidly. "Yes. There’s an entire chain of e-mails and some sealed instructions. All stored on my data crystals at home. I—I can let you see them, if it helps."

Lenora breathed out slowly, shoulders relaxing. "Then we’re going to your place. Now."

Walter looked like a cornered rabbit, but he nodded. "Fine. I—I guess it’s for the best."

Turning to Luke, Lenora’s lips quirked. "All right, your hunch was correct. If this leads to Councilor Mann, we’ll have a major scandal—and hopefully end this scheme before more people die."

Luke simply gave a half-smile. "That’s the goal. And maybe, while we’re at it, we can protect the Totem Serpent from the smear campaign."

Lenora shot him a sharp look. "Don’t get too sentimental about the serpent. The Judgment Society’s still cautious about it—some members want it gone. But if it’s an innocent scapegoat, we’ll see that justice is served."

A faint drizzle continued, the street shining under city lights. Overhead, Arcadia’s skyline loomed, the faint outlines of watchtowers and sleek high-rises cutting across the gloom.

The group—Lenora Quinn, Luke, and the reluctant Walter Murphy—took a moment to gather their composure. This night was far from over; in fact, a new Chapter was about to unfold.

Lenora called over a black-suited subordinate and gave instructions to wrap up the scene at the club. "Confiscate all contraband, take statements from any bystanders. Let no one slip out. We’ll manage the rest from HQ."

"Yes, ma’am," the man replied, saluting before rushing back inside.

Turning on her heel, Lenora waved Luke and Walter along.

"We’ll use my transport. Follow me." She led them down the block to an unremarkable black SUV, the sort of vehicle easily lost in traffic.

Walter’s nerves clearly jangled, but he climbed in the back seat, situating himself with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

Luke slid in next to him, and Lenora took the wheel. In the gloom, the headlights cut a bright swath along the wet road. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

As they drove through Arcadia’s late-night streets, the hush of the city felt eerie, broken only by occasional sirens or the hiss of tires on water-slick pavement.

Walter fiddled with his tie, clearing his throat repeatedly. Luke gazed out the window, half lost in thought. Lenora kept her eyes on the road, mind churning over how a revered member of the Trial Council might have become an "evil dragon" behind the scenes.

After a few minutes, Walter mustered courage to speak. "Councilor Mann was once hailed as the city’s top demon slayer, you know," he said quietly.

"He—he was my idol. I never imagined..." His voice trailed off. The gravity of discovering your hero’s potential corruption weighed heavily.

Lenora’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Unfortunately, power changes people. If you slay enough demons, you might start to see everyone as monstrous. Or, you lose yourself to ambition and greed."

Luke glanced at her in the mirror. "Which is precisely the question: Will the dragon slayer become an evil dragon?"

He allowed the rhetorical question to hang. So many had begun their journey with pure intent—only to spiral into darkness under the mantle of authority or desperation for victory.