"I need a room."
The hotel clerk looked up automatically.
Then his eyes widened.
The man standing at the counter barely registered. Average appearance. Nothing remarkable.
The women beside him, however...
One breathtaking blonde.
Two elegant mixed-race sisters with striking features and commanding, almost aristocratic bearing.
And this guy wanted...
One room?
The clerk’s expression instantly transformed into the universal look of a single man witnessing an unforgivable crime against humanity.
This villain should be tied to a stake and purified by the sacred flames of eternal singledom.
Naturally, the group consisted of Evenson, Sarah, and the Eredar twins.
By this point, Evenson barely noticed the murderous stares.
He’d been collecting them ever since they entered Brooklyn.
Unlike his other followers, the twins weren’t bound by master-servant contracts.
That meant he couldn’t simply dismiss and resummon them at home.
He actually had to drive them back.
Unfortunately...
His sports car only had two seats.
His original solution had been simple enough.
The twins could squeeze into the passenger seat together.
Sarah and everyone else could wait until he got home, after which he’d summon them one by one.
The sisters had rejected that idea immediately.
Sharing a seat?
Absolutely undignified.
High-ranking Eredar had standards.
Instead, each of them perched gracefully on one of the car’s doors, one foot resting on the side step as though posing for an impossibly expensive magazine shoot.
Somehow...
It looked ridiculously stylish.
The passenger seat was left free, so Sarah climbed in instead.
Objectively speaking, riding like that was absurdly dangerous.
Objectively speaking...
It also attracted every pair of eyes on the street.
A custom sports car.
Three stunning women.
One smug-looking driver.
To every passerby, it looked exactly like some obscenely wealthy playboy showing off his extravagant lifestyle.
Evenson wanted to protest.
The "reckless" part is fair.
The "wealthy" part? Not even close.
He’d emptied nearly his entire savings.
On top of that, he’d effectively signed up to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. for the next year.
Someone else could keep the luxury lifestyle.
As they neared home, another problem occurred to him.
His house couldn’t fit everyone anymore.
The storefront had never been intended as a residence.
One or two people?
Manageable.
Now there were already six occupants.
Adding two more...
Not happening.
And somehow he doubted the Eredar twins were the type to cheerfully share cramped quarters.
So he changed course.
Near his neighborhood stood one of Brooklyn’s finest hotels.
The Julie Grand Hotel.
Evenson drove straight toward...
...the tiny motel next door.
Four hundred dollars a night?
Someone else could enjoy that experience.
Thirty dollars sounded much more reasonable.
After collecting the room key and leaving behind a hotel clerk who looked ready to cry into the nearest restroom, Evenson led the women upstairs.
The room wasn’t large.
Two beds.
A private bathroom.
A television.
Air conditioning.
For thirty dollars a night, it was practically luxurious.
Saltheril slowly surveyed the room.
"I’ve changed my mind."
She looked at Evenson sympathetically.
"You aren’t possibly the poorest warlock I’ve ever met."
"You are definitely the poorest."
Altheressa nodded in agreement.
"I wasn’t expecting a tower or a palace."
"But this..."
She looked around once more.
"...is impressively modest."
Evenson coughed.
"My career is still in its startup phase."
He quickly changed the subject before either of them could continue.
"Since you’re staying on Earth, I should explain some basic rules about this world."
Experience, fiction, and every isekai story Ryan Mercer had ever consumed all agreed on one point.
People from another world always caused trouble.
Usually hilarious trouble.
Sometimes catastrophic trouble.
Either way, it seemed wise to provide at least a little orientation before two ancient demon commanders wandered into modern civilization.
The proposal was rejected immediately.
"Unnecessary."
Saltheril spoke first.
"We followed the Burning Legion across countless worlds."
Altheressa continued without missing a beat.
"As the Deceiver’s lieutenants, infiltration was one of our responsibilities."
"We may not rival..."
"...famous Nathrezim like Tichondrius or Mal’Ganis..."
"...but ordinary dreadlords..."
"...were never our equals."
"We excel at..."
"...entering unfamiliar worlds..."
"...and becoming part of them..."
"...without anyone noticing."
The sisters alternated sentences so naturally they sounded like they’d rehearsed the conversation for centuries.
Evenson stared for a moment.
Actually...
That made perfect sense.
If every new world counted as one isekai adventure...
Then these two weren’t beginners.
They were seasoned veterans.
The kind who’d speedrun the genre hundreds of times.
Saltheril crossed her arms and sat casually on one of the beds.
"All you need to tell us..."
"...is who our enemies are."
"Our enemies?"
Evenson smiled wryly.
"If our true objective is exposed?"
He shrugged.
"Everyone."
Helping an alien invasion conquer Earth wasn’t exactly the kind of career choice that won public approval.
Altheressa leaned back against the headboard.
"I meant..."
"...who is most likely to expose us?"
"Or which organization?"
"At the moment?"
Evenson considered the question.
"There are only two."
"The Masters of the Mystic Arts."
"And S.H.I.E.L.D."
"What do they do?"
"Names alone tell us very little."
"The Masters of the Mystic Arts are the easier comparison."
"They’re something like the Kirin Tor."
He shook his head.
"Although much smaller and considerably less powerful overall."
"Most of their sorcerers aren’t especially dangerous."
He paused.
"With one exception."
"The Sorcerer Supreme."
His expression turned serious.
"I’ve never met him personally."
"But based on everything I’ve been able to learn..."
He chose his words carefully.
"I don’t think he’s as powerful as Medivh."
"However..."
"He may well surpass Antonidas."
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