Chapter 1

"Oh no! Lucas is out of control again — run!"

A villager's scream was followed by a fist smashing clean through the church door, sending splinters flying.

Lucas let out a guttural growl, nothing close to human, and lunged straight at the priest standing across from him — Father Michael Jenkins.

After a fierce struggle, silver relics lay scattered across the church floor. Lucas was on his hands and knees, the ram horns on his head mostly retracted, just two small bumps remaining, slowly fading away.

Michael leaned against the wall, his left hand pressed over his injured arm. He looked at Lucas and let out a long sigh. "The moment you heard your grandfather had died, you blacked out. If I hadn't used holy water to force the rampage in your body to stop, I don't want to think about what would have happened."

The crimson slowly drained from Lucas's eyes, though his pupils were still trembling violently.

"...I'm sorry." He lifted his head, his eyes shot through with red. "Grandpa never smoked, never drank. He was healthier than I was. How does he make one trip to Harmony City and die of a heart attack?"

For as long as Lucas could remember, the villagers had sneered at him, saying his parents abandoned him because of the horns on his head. He didn't know the truth. All he knew for certain was that his grandfather had brought him to the countryside and raised him, and because of that, he couldn't bring himself to accept that the old man was gone.

"What happened to Grandpa in Harmony City?" Lucas clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. "I'm going to Harmony City to find my parents. I want the truth about how he died."

Michael was quiet for a moment. Then he pushed himself off the wall, limped over to the altar, and pulled open a hidden compartment. He took out a small leather pouch and tossed it in front of Lucas.

"That's my last bottle of high-grade holy water," Michael said. "I know I can't stop you. But when you get to Harmony City, you have to learn to keep your emotions in check. Pan's blood is restless inside you. Every time you lose your temper, Pan wakes up a little more. This holy water can only save you once. If you lose control again, it won't be me who comes for you — it'll be the purification squad. The Church will treat you as a demon host."

Lucas picked up the pouch and slowly got to his feet. He bowed deeply to Michael. "I understand, Father Michael. I'll be careful."

Michael watched him, his eyes full of resignation, and something like quiet sorrow.

Eighteen years. The boy had learned to hide his horns — but he could never hide what ran through his blood.

Whether he'd be able to uncover the truth behind Alfredo Moretti's death in Harmony City, Michael didn't know.

After saying goodbye to Michael, Lucas took one last look at the village he'd lived in for eighteen years, then turned and walked toward Harmony City without looking back.

The day he left, the whole village erupted in celebration. Villagers killed chickens and slaughtered sheep.

"That demon is finally gone! We can stop locking our doors."

"Wonder which poor family in Harmony City is unlucky enough to cross him. They're in for it now!"

Meanwhile, at the Moretti Estate in Harmony City.

Victor Moretti and Isabella Moretti were pacing the room in a panic. Their son Marco Moretti sat on the sofa with his face buried in his hands, sobbing. "Dad, Mom, I can't go to the Colombo family. I'll die there!"

Isabella held Marco tight, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "Victor, do something. The Colombo family is known for being brutal. We can't send Marco to them!"

Victor was beside himself, shouting at the top of his lungs. "What am I supposed to do? Of all the people Marco could've crossed, he had to pick the Colombo family. They're the mob. They could wipe out our entire family without breaking a sweat!"

Isabella's eyes darted around, and she spoke up quickly. "Didn't you say you wanted Lucas to come back from the countryside? The Colombo family just said to hand over a son — they never said which one. Why not send Lucas in Marco's place?"

"Easy for you to say." Victor let out a cold snort. "I've called Lucas over a dozen times, and he never picked up. He's not stupid. We abandoned him for over ten years. Why would he help us now?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Marco was shaking, barely holding it together. "Dad, Mom, I don't want to die. Get Lucas back here!"

The family was still in a panic when Lucas appeared at the front gate.

He looked up at the mansion — built like a palace — and felt his stomach turn.

He and his grandfather had scraped by in the countryside for years, while his parents lived like this in Harmony City. Could anything be more twisted?

"Lucas?" The butler came out to meet him, visibly stunned to see that the horns were gone, though he quickly composed himself. "Mr. and Mrs. Moretti are inside."

Lucas picked up his bag and followed the butler in.

The entrance hall was bigger than he'd imagined.

Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. Ornate oil paintings on the walls. The air was thick with expensive perfume. Every inch of it is dripping with wealth.

Lucas thought of the little wooden cabin he and his grandfather had shared — the roof that leaked every rainy season, the winters with no coal for heat. He looked at the room in front of him and felt his blood start to boil. His hands balled into fists.

He forced himself to push it down. He had a reason for being here. He needed to hold it together.

"Mrs. Moretti, Lucas is here," the butler announced.

Everyone in the living room stared. Were His horns gone?

Isabella recovered first and rushed over with a wide smile. "Lucas? Is that really you? My son! You've changed so much — and your horns are gone! Which clinic did you go to?"

Lucas instinctively stepped back. He looked at the woman in front of him — well-groomed, perfectly made up — and spoke flatly. "Don't call me that. You know better than anyone whether I'm really your son."

Isabella froze for a moment, then glanced back at Victor.

Victor was caught off guard. He'd been trying to reach Lucas for weeks with no luck, and now the guy had shown up on his own — and walked in saying something like that.

He forced a smile. "Lucas, I know you're upset that we didn't keep you with us. But we had our reasons. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive us."

"Your reasons? Then tell me what they were."

Victor cleared his throat. "Lucas, we can talk about all that later. You just got here — you must be tired. I'll have a room prepared for you."

"Don't bother," Lucas said evenly. "I'm not staying here."

The room went cold.

Marco was slouched on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He let out a contemptuous snort without looking up. "Just some country bumpkin off the street, acting like he owns the place."

Victor shot him a sharp look, cleared his throat, and put his smile back on. "Come, sit down. We're finally all together — we should talk."

Lucas didn't sit. He just stood there, watching Victor, waiting to see how long he'd keep up the act.

Victor was starting to feel uneasy under that stare.

He coughed and shot Isabella a look.

Isabella stepped forward and reached for Lucas's arm. "Lucas, let me get you some water—"

"No need." Lucas stepped back, out of her reach. "You never once came to see me in eighteen years. Who exactly are you putting on this loving parent routine for?"

Isabella's expression shifted. Victor's smile disappeared entirely.

A few seconds of silence passed. Victor settled back onto the sofa, crossed his legs, and dropped the act. "Fine. You want straight talk, I'll give it to you. We've got a problem. Your brother Marco got on the wrong side of some people he shouldn't have..."

"Dad!" Marco cut in, his voice not guilty so much as annoyed. "I was just messing around with the Colombo girl. How was I supposed to know she'd take it that far and jump off the boat?"

"Don't try to spin this. You nearly assaulted her on that cruise ship. If we hadn't dealt with the witnesses, you wouldn't even be sitting here right now." Isabella's voice was ice cold.

"I didn't do anything! She made it up!"

"Enough!" Victor pressed his hand to his temple and snapped. "Is now really the time to argue about who did what?"

He turned to Lucas, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "The Colombo family wants us to hand over a son. You're our son too. It's time you took some responsibility."

Lucas had heard enough to understand what was happening.

"So you want me to take his place," he said, his eyes cold and flat. "You want me to be the one who gets punished for what a rapist did, so your precious son walks free."

Victor's face darkened. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "What kind of attitude is that? Marco is your brother. What's wrong with helping him?"

Before he could say another word, a servant rushed in looking frantic. "Mr. Moretti, Mrs. Moretti — the Colombo family just called. They want us to hand someone over today!"