My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 312: Jardin de la Nuit
Of course, after having a bit of a headache with the loves of his life, Vergil ended up having to actually visit Paris. After all, his goal really was to hunt down the one who had hurt Viviane...
Who was he kidding?... That man, Spectre, had really annoyed him several times. In half a year, that man had attacked Viviane, almost killing her. A few months later, one of his allies had attacked his precise friend, Alexa.
That man's ally was Alexa's own brother, who killed her entire pack for no reason. And in the same incident, a few days later... he attacked Katharina, Ada and Roxanne.
The truth? Vergil was holding back the whole time so as not to do something crazy. He was staying calm inside, but he was enduring every second he spent sorting it out. At the same time, he was controlling himself even more so as not to act rashly.
That was what Sepphirothy had taught him during his training. The mental. Unlike Sapphire, who likes to train her strength, his mother was a woman who was more concerned with her brain than her muscles. That's why she was stronger than Sapphire. Because the difference... was balance.
And well, now it was time to get back to reality, right?
Of course, Paris welcomed him like a melancholy lover: cold, elegant and full of memories. Vergil got out of the black cab at the corner of an alley in Montmartre, his dark overcoat swaying slightly in the wind.
"Looks like it's going to rain." He muttered as he looked up. The cloudy sky seemed to weigh down on the city's sloping rooftops, as if sensing what was to come.
He surveyed his surroundings with keen eyes. A block away, crossing the Boulevard de Clichy, he spotted the same little river that discreetly cut through the surroundings, and of course, he gave a slight smile.
His memories were good, after all, it was the same one where, months before, he had walked hand in hand with Katharina for the first time. The dark water flowed lazily, reflecting the pale light of day. It was a silent ghost of that unforgettable night.
"I should come here more often, it's a cozy town," he murmured, touching the edge of the bridge with his gloved hand. "I wish I'd brought Katharina again... but what I'm about to do would probably kill me if she saw it."
His attention turned to the building he was looking for. Number 42 Rue des Martyrs. Montmartre was a neighborhood of artists, bohemians and secrets... and there, between an abandoned bakery and a closed antique shop, was the modest façade of a flower shop.
As Paimon said, it was impossible to find the place on Google Maps, but she never said that Street View wouldn't work. He found it reasonably easy, he just had to go back about two years in the photos taken in 360 degrees by one of those mapping cars.
Jardin de la Nuit, said the faded sign in gold paint, a bit worn, a bit old. Even more than it should be considering the weather, but in the photos he found they were already that way... No flowers were visible in the window. Just shadows, it looked so... abandoned.
'Looks like I found it...' He muttered, before crossing the street and stopping in front of the dark wooden door.
The sandblasted glass reflected his image: his eyes looked a little tired, his body was bigger than the last time he had noticed it... maybe it had reached 2.35m, he was already bigger than Sapphire at the last measurement, and of course, that wasn't even that important.
'Well, it seems to be open... although it looks abandoned...' he thought, stepping forward and following, so he touched the doorknob... which was warm? 'That's strange'
As he opened the door, a faint bell sounded, but the sound was drowned out by something strange... as if the space inside wasn't in the same world.
The air smelled of jasmine and old smoke.
The flower store wasn't really a store. It was a long, narrow hall, covered with living vines on the ceiling. Old vases were scattered around like abandoned pieces of art. In the background, a red velvet curtain blocked the way.
"Is anyone here?" he muttered, looking around for any sign of life... "Wow, it's so dusty." He muttered, running his finger around one of the vases.
Vergil walked forward a little in the quiet of the flower shop, his senses heightened. The atmosphere was a strange emptiness - the smell of damp earth, dried flowers and something hidden in the air. He looked around, attentive, but there was no one in sight.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice firm but cautious, hoping for some kind of response.
"Hello!" replied a female voice from behind him.
Vergil immediately turned around, his heart racing. 'I didn't feel any presence!' he thought, alarmed. In his entire life, he had only been unable to sense the presence of a few specific people... Sapphire, Sepphirotjy, the Archons and... Sun Wukong.
But behind him... nothing. Just the same misty corridor, full of ancient vases and still shadows. He looked around, frowning, trying to locate the source of the voice. ƒreewebɳovel.com
"Down here, you giant," she said, now much closer. He looked down, and there she was.
A woman, maybe 1.57m tall... almost tiny compared to her imposing stature. So small that she seemed to belong to another scale of the world. But despite her height, she was a striking sight.
Her eyes were pale blue, deep-set like Viviane's, but when she moved in the dim light of the room, a multicolored reflection ran through her irises like a liquid rainbow - hypnotic, as if they contained tiny magical prisms. Her hair, completely white, almost ethereal, glistened even in the warm light from the ceiling, as if it contained particles of moonlight. She wore simple but tight-fitting clothes that accentuated her firm, mature curves - narrow waist, rounded hips and generous breasts. Her skin was a uniform golden bronze, as if it had been kissed by ancient suns. There was something divine there, and something... absurdly alive.
"Oh... hello." Vergil said, bewildered, but keeping his posture.
"Yes, yes, hello," she replied, shaking her head with a certain playful impatience. "So, what do you want? The flowers are... shall we say... artistically tired." he gestured dismissively, pointing to an arrangement of wilted flowers, crooked branches and what looked like moss adorned with glitter.
She crossed her arms, as if waiting for him to make a quicker choice. "You can choose one. Or pretend you like one, buy it and leave with dignity. Your lost face is depressing," she added, with a sarcastic smile on her lips.
Vergil didn't reply immediately. Instead, he looked at her carefully. She wasn't just any employee. Everything about her - the twinkle in her eye, the confidence in her sarcasm, the way she stood even at her small size - told him that there was much more behind that grumpy saleswoman façade.
"You're not a florist," he said at last.
She raised an eyebrow. "And you're not an ordinary customer. " he retorted. "But we're here, pretending to be normal people, so... how about following the theater for another minute?"
Vergil smiled a little. Finally, something made sense in that strange place. "I'm looking for the Goddess of Love," he said quietly.
The woman looked up at him with a curious glint in her kaleidoscopic eyes.
"Ah... so you really did come after her," she said, with a skewed smile. "Unfortunately, we don't have that flower in stock. We've run out. You can go now, dear." he shrugged with false innocence, turning away as if the matter was closed.
Vergil didn't move. His eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking. Slowly, his aura began to manifest itself - a weight in the air, dense as mist before a storm. The wood crackled under her feet. The ground seemed to shake slightly. The wilted flowers in the store wilted even more.
The woman froze in place. Her body tensed for a second... and then her eyes went wide. She turned around again - no longer with playfulness on her face, but with something close to surprise. Or was it anger?
Her aura responded in a flash. In a dry pop, the space around her distorted, and the small female body expanded like a flame growing in a flash. In a matter of seconds, she stood in front of Vergil at the same height as him, but now radiating an almost unbearable magnetism - as if every inch of her golden skin had been shaped to dominate. His face, once jovial and provocative, had become austere. Beautiful, but implacable.
Her eyes burned with iridescent light.
"Who. You. Gave. My. Address?" she hissed between her teeth, each word marked by power, as the pressure of her presence pushed the air against Vergil's chest.
Vergil himself felt his knees give way a little. It was as if a mountain was pressing down on his body from the inside. But still... he smiled.
"Does it matter...? Aphrodite." He said the name clearly, like someone pulling the trigger on a sacred weapon.
She didn't hesitate.
With a simple hand gesture, like a dust blower, Vergil was thrown like a doll against the back of the store. His body passed through vases, shelves and old wood, until he hit the wall hard, cracking part of the plaster. He fell sitting up with a muffled sound, coughing up some dust.
Aphrodite walked slowly towards him. Her footsteps made no sound - they seemed to float - but her presence crushed him like an emotional avalanche. It was a different kind of power from that of warriors or gods of war. It was seduction turned into strength. Beauty in the form of domination.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," she said, stopping in front of him. "But you're trespassing in the wrong garden, darling. You don't come in here with blood on your boots."
Vergil stood up slowly, his body already regenerating from the pain. His eyes stared at her, now more appraising than challenging.
"I didn't come as an enemy," he said, his voice hoarse from the impact. "Although I'm not that famous, I really didn't expect a Goddess known for popularity not to know who I am." Vergil said and dusted off his overcoat. "Paimon's going to be pretty annoyed about that..." He muttered.
Aphrodite paused for a moment before approaching, "Paimon? Did that bitch send you? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SAY SO!!!"
