"Why is he not out yet?" Rochelle looked at the rapidly forming police picket line.

They had remained that he should eliminate the criminals quickly and leave the building before the police came. However, the police were already here, but Robert wasn't.

Rochelle naturally couldn't intervene. This clandestine 'punisher' operation of her wasn't something that could be sanctioned or even explained to the rest of the department.

She bit her nails as she saw a swat team opening up the main entrance. If Robert killed his colleagues, could she ever forgive herself? Could she work with and protect the same people she didn't warn as they stepped into a meat grinder?

--------------------

Meanwhile, inside the attic of the building currently besieged by the police, Robert felt the spell on the doors weakening and disappearing.

He looked out of the window and saw a trickle of black-clad swat team members moving inside the building.

"Oh boy, here I go killin' again." he cracked his knuckles and headed to the door.

"Haven't you had enough?" An incorporeal voice sounded behind him.

"No!" Robert answered simply. He picked up an uzi dropped by one of the criminals he had killed.

"You also didn't manage to gather the intel promised to Rochelle." The voice kept nagging at him.

"Man, who cares. I will just say the guy shot himself before we got here." Robert retorted, checking the mag on the weapon.

"Then you are leaving us no choice. You've been jeopardizing our interests." The voice softly sighed before passing a verdict.

"What? No, you can't! Look how far I've brought us!" For the first time, Robert wore an expression of fear and horror.

"That's enough, don't resist."

Robert started shaking, his face reddened, and veins bulged all over his forehead. "No!" He screamed as he clawed at his face, fighting back an impulse to stand down.

After a few more minutes of struggle, he finally flopped unconscious. The next instant, he once again opened his eyes. However, the intensity they carried was magnitudes apart.

He calmly stood up and walked to the door. "Stop." he cast and then walked to the bathroom, where he got naked and took a shower.

With calculated movements, he dried himself off and went to look for clothes. He could hear the banging of the police as they tried to open the door. Unhurried, he checked his watch and ignored them.

Robert then examined twice every piece of clothing of the gang leader, finally settling on a funeral black suit with a black shirt and tie. He only kept his trilby hat.

He dressed and, without glancing at the outside, examined a window's curtain, slowly caressing it and assessing the materials.

Satisfied, he ripped it off and secured it around his waist.

"Poof," He said with no expression on his face. His whole body disappeared, covered by a mirror-like substance that camouflaged him.

He admired his hands for a moment and, with a short run-up, jumped out of the window. As he started falling, he spoke a single word. "Push."

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A kinetic current filled the curtain, turning it into a full sail and pulling him upwards.

If anyone were to look up, they would only see a distorted sky and translucent clouds.

After a short flight, Robert landed on the roof of a nearby building. He dropped the curtain, dispelled "Poof." and went down the fire escape, returning to the scene of his massacre.

Amongst the crowd, he quickly found Rochelle, hiding around the back.

He tapped her on the back, and she turned around in fright with a gasp.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, then realizing it wasn't the place or time, she pulled him away, only stopping away from curious ears.

"What happened? How did you get out? Why are you wearing different clothes? Are you... taller?" The barge of questions ended as she noticed that Robert gave off a different air, much colder than usual. He also looked slightly taller.

"Mission accomplished, but I failed to acquire extra intel. I used the window. Just a little." He answered with no hesitation.

Rochelle frowned at the mention of intel and ignored the rest of his answer as inconsequential.

"I see. Let's go back to the apartment. We can talk more there." Rochelle said, and then lead Robert out of the crowd. They took a bus and quickly arrived home.

For the whole trip, neither of them had said anything. Rochelle looked suspiciously at Robert. He had never been one for shutting up.

"So, care to tell me how an invincible demon from hell spent more than thirty minutes cleaning up maybe twenty criminals?" Rochelle asked doubtfully.

"Not really," Robert said, evading the question, his clear eyes didn't betray any emotion.

Rochelle frowned. "My mission, my rules. Now give me a full report or consider our deal null." She demanded answers and would have answers, even if she had to fall out with Robert.

She already had suspicions that something went terribly wrong, and her guilt wouldn't allow her to ignore it.

Robert stared at her in silence, seemingly lost in thought. Rochelle moved her hand to the holster, ready to risk it all if he refused and broke their deal.

Then Robert simply blinked. However, that simple gesture had transformed him, his eyes looked much warmer, and he gave off a gentle air.

"Let's sit down first, detective." Robert said, moving to the sofa and leaving the armchair to the detective.

Rochelle wondered what had happened and unknowingly lowered her guard. She went to sit down and stared at Robert. He took off the tie and opened a few buttons of the shirt.

"They had another demon." Robert broke the silence with a bombshell revelation.

"They what?" Rochelle asked, gasping in surprise.

"A demon. When I came into the building, I discovered that the gang leader was in reality a demon, just like me. They used the building as a cover and attracted families to be tortured and killed." He said with a hint of sadness and regret.

"I couldn't save them." He almost cried right there and then as he lied through his teeth, "They were all dead already when I got rid of that bastard."

"My God," Rochelle said in horror. She had personally investigated the building, so she had an idea of how many kids and other innocents lived there.

"We have to stop them, Rochelle." Robert declared as he grabbed her hand.

"And we will!" She answered with a nod.

"There is something more," Robert said, looking down coy. "As I was fighting the demon, he taunted me, saying that his friends in the police would make sure to pin it all on me."

Rochelle felt her head spinning. She had always suspected that there were bad apples in the department, but to organize a cover-up of such a scale? It seemed a little...

"You believe me, don't you?" Robert said looking up at Rochelle. She could see herself reflected in his big innocent blue eyes. Suddenly she became very aware of the warmth of his hand in hers and blushed a little.

"O-of course." She couldn't think straight anymore, something had infiltrated her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, and her head felt warm.

Panicked, she sought distance from Robert and got up. "I-i need some air to process all this. I'll be back in a few minutes." Before Robert could say anything, she had already left, leaving behind even her keys in the hurry.

With a bang, the door closed, and Robert smiled wickedly.

"What did I tell you, easy peasy. Focus on killing. I'll do the talking." Robert spoke to the void. Without waiting for an answer, he got up and admired himself in the mirror.

His long dark hair had grown past his chin, and a thick black mustache covered his upper lip. Robert had a typical face that would look better clean, and so he decided to shave off the pedo-stache.

"Any of you mind?" He listened to the air for a moment, and as he heard nothing, he smiled in satisfaction and shaved off the facial hair.

"Much better." Then looked at his attire and frowned. "I dig your style man, but I want more color. Time to go shopping." He decided against waiting for the detective and left her a little note before heading off in the world.