[Chapter 238: She Truly Is Quite Large]
Daniel looked at Chris, her figure hot and her beauty unmatched.
Though she was undeniably stunning, Daniel still felt a flicker of discomfort. "Next time," he said.
Chris's eyes immediately filled with resentment.
...
The next afternoon, a black stretch Lincoln pulled up at the villa's entrance.
A tall white woman wearing sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat stepped out, flanked by bodyguards.
Daniel was visibly stunned when he saw her.
It really was Ivanka Trump, just as he remembered.
Her father was sure to become a big deal someday. But that was a problem for the future; for now, there was no need to worry.
Daniel studied Ivanka carefully. She truly was quite large.
Her condition was even worse than what she had described over the phone. Using the Spiritual Perception Technique, Daniel saw the black energy spreading from the center of her brow outward.
It looked as if the "red door" projection had already locked tightly onto her Soul.
...
Leaving the bodyguards to stand watch outside, Ivanka followed Daniel into the living room.
As she entered, she ignored her image and slumped onto the sofa, her voice dry and raspy.
"Mr. Cross, I've arrived. All the way here, I felt like that door was right behind me. As soon as I closed my eyes, I could hear knocking."
Daniel sat across from her, twirling several Five Emperors Coins in his hand.
"You should be glad you came quickly enough." With a flick of his finger, a copper coin landed on the coffee table with a crisp clink. "Tell me, what else did you see behind that door in your dream?"
Ivanka's hand trembled as she reached for a glass of water, taking a sip before steadying herself.
"I saw... a monster with a red face. It was sitting in a room full of clocks, holding a long needle and sewing a puppet. That puppet's face... looked exactly like mine."
Daniel's gaze hardened instantly.
The Red-Faced Demon.
As expected, after he killed the previous one, a new one had appeared. And behind all this was clearly the shadow of the Ram Cult's curse techniques.
"It seems they don't just want your Soul. They want to turn you into a beautiful 'vessel' so those disgusting Souls can move in."
Ivanka's body shook, her face draining of color. "Mr. Cross, please help me."
Daniel set down his teacup, his eyes lingering on Ivanka's exquisite yet pale face.
"Where is the mark located?" he asked.
Ivanka hesitated, awkwardly tugging the silk shawl draped over her shoulders.
"It's... on my lower back, near the spine," she said.
"Let me see."
Daniel's tone was calm, emotionless, like he was handling an ordinary object.
Ivanka bit her lip.
As the jewel of the Trump family, no man had ever dared speak to her so directly, yet when she looked into Daniel's eyes, deep like a still pool, she felt an undeniable pressure.
She took a deep breath, stood, and slowly turned around.
Her slender fingers rested on the zipper of her tight dress. With a soft "zzt," the black silk slid down her smooth back and bunched at her waist.
The living room light was dim, the sunset's orange-red rays filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Ivanka's skin was pale, glowing with an ivory sheen in the low light. Above her perfectly shaped butt crack, a dark red mark stood out starkly.
Its twisted lines traced a bizarre shape. The skin around it was slightly red and swollen, as if whatever was beneath was alive and trying to burrow deeper.
It was exactly the same mark as Liv's, just in a different spot.
Daniel stepped forward, pressing two fingers together and lightly touching the edge of the mark.
Ivanka jerked violently, a short moan escaping her throat.
Though Daniel's fingertips felt cool, his touch carried a numbing sensation that made her very Soul shudder.
"Don't move," Daniel said lowly, admonishing her.
His fingers traced a circle around the mark. Through the Spiritual Perception Technique, he saw tendrils of black energy crawling up her tailbone.
It was slowly eroding her essence, energy, and spirit.
An ambiguous tension filled the room. Ivanka could feel Daniel's warm breath near the back of her neck.
It was dangerously intimate, yet oddly reassuring.
Moments later, Daniel withdrew his hand.
"Put your clothes back on."
Ivanka felt as if she'd been granted a reprieve and hurried to pull her dress back up.
When she faced him again, a faint blush lingered on her cheeks, and her eyes flickered away.
"Mr. Cross... how is it?"
Daniel sank back into the sofa, his expression grave.
"It's more complicated than I thought. That mark isn't just a simple curse, it's a 'coordinate' from the depths of Hell. The red door you dreamed of is the gateway to The Further."
In the lore of the Insidious series, the red door was the entrance to the deepest part of The Further. A wasteland where vengeful spirits gathered, and where time and space were completely twisted.
The Red-Faced Demon was one of its Rulers. It specialized in using curses to mark living people, and when the target's spirit broke, it forcibly possessed them.
Ivanka wrapped her shawl tighter, her voice trembling.
"Can you remove the mark?"
"Not right now." Daniel shook his head. "This mark is already fused to your Soul. If I forcibly erase it, your Soul will shatter along with it. Besides, I don't plan on charging into The Further just yet."
"Why?" Ivanka asked urgently. "If you need money..."
"It's not about money." Daniel leveled a cold look at her. "The situation with that red door is thousands, even tens of thousands of times more dangerous than you imagine. Until I'm fully prepared, I won't risk my life on someone else's home turf."
The light in Ivanka's eyes dimmed, filled with despair.
"Then am I doomed to wait for death?"
"I can first cut off the mark's direct interference with your mind; the part that makes you dream of the red door." Daniel held up three fingers. "But the mark itself will remain. You'll still be their target. Just symptoms like sleepwalking and mental trances won't show for now. You'll be able to return to a normal life and work until I find a way to completely uproot it."
Hearing she might return to work, a spark of hope lit Ivanka's eyes.
"Fine. As long as I can be normal again, I'm willing to cooperate."
"Since we have an agreement, let's talk price." Daniel leaned back, stating the figure flatly. "One million US dollars. Cash or wire transfer, I don't accept collateral."
In this day and age, one million dollars could buy a mansion in the Los Angeles suburbs.
Ivanka didn't even blink before nodding.
"Deal. That's fair. After all, this involves risks."
She pulled a checkbook from her Hermes handbag, quickly wrote out a check, and slid it toward Daniel.
"This is a hundred thousand dollars down. As for the rest, as long as I sleep well tonight, I'll settle the balance tomorrow."
*****
https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.
https://discord.gg/HjHHhUXPn7.