100: Chapter 100 doesn't seem to be very popular.

Elizabeth's tone was clearly displeased.

A normal person would have cowered long ago seeing a Supernatural Being like this.

But Ballard was clearly not such a person.

She took a step forward and stood in front of Elizabeth. Though she was half a head shorter, her back was perfectly straight.

"He is my partner. Where he goes, I go!"

Elizabeth stared at her.

The two locked eyes, and something in the air began to solidify.

Standing nearby, Sean could feel the power surging within Elizabeth—not an attack, but a warning.

She was warning Ballard not to push her luck.

Ballard did not back down.

She looked at Elizabeth, hands hanging at her sides.

She stared straight at Elizabeth as if to say: You can make a move, but I won't yield.

Elizabeth gave a cold snort. "You've got a lot of nerve."

Ballard said nothing.

Seeing that things were going south, Sean quickly spoke up. "Ballard, wait for me outside."

Ballard turned her head and looked at him.

In those dark brown eyes, there was a hint of surprise and a touch of reluctance.

"Sean..."

"Wait for me outside," Sean repeated. "I'll be out soon."

Ballard was stunned for a moment, then she nodded, stepped back, and leaned against the car door with her hands in her pockets.

She didn't speak, but her expression told Sean... she didn't agree, but she would listen to him.

Sean ignored Ballard's expression and followed Elizabeth into the garden.

A gravel path led to a wooden door. Elizabeth opened it and stepped aside to let him through.

Sean walked in, and the door closed behind him.

...

Sean followed Elizabeth into the hotel. The bronze door closed gently behind them with a dull thud, as if sealing off the outside world.

The lobby was very high, with the ceiling at least two stories up. A massive crystal chandelier hung from it, but the lights were off.

Light came from the wall sconces on either side, a dim yellow glow that fell upon the dark red carpet.

The carpet was very thick; walking on it produced no sound. It felt like stepping on something soft and spongy, making one feel a bit unsteady.

The walls were dark wood paneling adorned with several oil paintings, all of which depicted landscapes... forests, lakes, mountains, but the tones were very dark, like twilight or the moment before a storm.

The frames were gilded, but the gold paint was peeling, revealing the black wood beneath like a series of scars.

Sean stood in the center of the lobby and looked around.

There was a scent in the air—not musty, not decaying, but heavier... like something that had been suppressed for a long time, trapped inside with no way out.

He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but he could feel that this place wasn't right.

It wasn't dirty, and it wasn't dangerous; it was oppressive.

It was as if an invisible hand was pressing down on his shoulder—not heavy, but constantly there.

He looked up at the crystal chandelier. The lights weren't on, but the crystals glinted slightly in the dim yellow light like countless eyes watching him.

"Sean," Elizabeth's voice came from ahead. "This way."

Sean withdrew his gaze and followed her forward.

As they passed the front desk, he paused for a moment.

An old woman wearing a dark dress, her white hair pulled back, was currently staring at Sean with surprise in her eyes.

Sean didn't know her, but from her gaze, he could tell that this old woman hated him intensely.

"Alice," Elizabeth spoke, her voice very soft. "This is Sean, my friend."

The woman called Alice looked at Sean, her lips twitching as she forced a polite curve. "Welcome."

Her tone was completely devoid of emotion, as if she were just reciting lines.

Sean nodded politely. "Thank you."

Alice said nothing more.

She lowered her head, picked up a fountain pen, and wrote something in the register.

Sean couldn't see what she wrote, but he noticed her hand was trembling slightly, looking as if she were enduring something.

Elizabeth glanced at Alice but said nothing.

She turned and continued deeper into the hallway.

Sean followed.

However, he felt Alice's gaze pinned to his back; it seemed she truly despised him.

...

The corridor was long, with rows of doors on either side. The room numbers were made of bronze and polished to a shine, reflecting the dim yellow light.

The carpet remained just as thick, making their footsteps silent.

The light from the wall sconces hit the dark paneling, casting a dull reflection like the surface of water or a mirror, yet it was too dark to see a face clearly.

Sean looked at the doors; every single one was identical, and every single one was closed.

He suddenly had a feeling that behind those doors, things were listening. But those things did not come out; they only listened.

"How many people live here?" Sean asked.

Elizabeth didn't look back. "Not many, just a few old friends."

Sean didn't ask further.

At the end of the corridor was a door larger than the others. It had no number, only a bronze handle shaped like an eagle.

Elizabeth pushed the door open and walked in.

Sean followed her inside, and the door closed behind him.

Inside was a large room that looked like a suite, with a living room, bedroom, bathroom, and a balcony. Floor-to-ceiling windows led to the balcony, and the curtains were drawn open, revealing the garden outside.

The garden wasn't large, planted with a few lemon trees hung with yellow fruit. Sunlight streamed through the window, hitting the dark red carpet and feeling warm.

But Sean still felt oppressed; that feeling that had pressed on his shoulders since entering the front door hadn't dissipated.

"Sit." Elizabeth walked behind the bar and took out two glasses and a bottle of wine.

There was no label on the bottle, and the dark red liquid looked like blood under the light.

She poured two glasses and pushed one toward Sean.

Sean took the glass but didn't drink.

He sat on the sofa, which was very soft, sinking into it as if being embraced by something.

Elizabeth sat across from him, crossing her legs, holding her glass and looking at him with a beaming smile.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" Elizabeth asked.

Sean shook his head.

He was about to speak when the door suddenly burst open.

It wasn't the kind of opening where it's pushed slowly; it was slammed open, as if something had kicked it hard from the outside.

The bronze handle struck the wall with a dull thud, making the entire wall tremble.

Sean stood up abruptly, and some of the wine in his hand spilled. The dark red liquid dripped onto the carpet and soaked in like blood.

Elizabeth didn't move. She sat on the sofa, holding her glass and looking toward the door, her expression unchanged.

A man stood at the door, very tall, at least one hundred and ninety centimeters.

His shoulders were broad, and he wore a black leather jacket over a dark shirt with the collar open, revealing a solid chest.

His face was handsome, not the pretty-boy kind of handsome, but the kind that looked carved by a knife—hard lines and distinct contours.

He looked at Elizabeth, and finally, his gaze lingered on Sean for a moment. He said coldly, "Elizabeth, you brought a man back?"