Unlike me, who felt nothing at all from the officiation of the contract, Harlow physically looked ill, as if he had lost a good portion of his blood.
His features were sunken, his skin turned completely pale, and he seemed to have aged by several more years. These were all telltale signs of something I hadn’t had much dealing with, and that was Soul-Disassociation.
Soul-Disassociation is basically just a broad term that says that a person has lost less than half of their non-tangible spiritual body. When Harlow signed the contract just now, and Arkadia accepted it, it took exactly 25% of his soul as a downpayment of sorts.
If I wished, I could actually obtain that chunk of the soul; however, it was basically useless to me right now; at best, I could probably use it to control Harlow, but the amount of manipulation I could exert with 25% of his soul, was actually significantly less than if I used my Talent, so for now, I left it alone and stored the monster hide parchment in my inventory.
"Now…what to do, oh what to do," cupping the chin of my white mask, I tilted my head to the side and examined the gaunt Harlow as he tried to understand what had changed in his body.
He couldn’t put it into words, but the best he could describe it was that he felt empty, as if something precious was now gone. Yet with that emptiness, the few remaining feelings and emotions he had, particularly the ones involving his wife and children, were slowly eroding as well.
’His mind is surprisingly calm and accepting of what he’s going through, that’s new, but I suppose a direct reaction between his Sociopathy and the loss of his Soul Fragment.’
’He’s also losing what little was holding him back from reaching his metaphorical final form, hm…’
"Harlow, from now on, you are forbidden from seeking the inheritance of your Victims; petty thievery is also off the table, as the two of those will lead to your arrest in due time." Speaking up, I broke Harlow out of his thoughts, and as his eyes focused on me, I noticed the fear that had been present was now gone; he seemed empty.
"Yes, Lord Rehpix, what else should I be aware of?"
Struggling to his feet, Harlow got up and walked to his desk before sitting down and watching me carefully with a calculative eye.
"Hm," clasping my hands behind my back, I hopped from my spot by the filing cabinet back atop the desk and looked down at the man.
"For starters, we need to find and eradicate your paper trail. You may believe that you’ve been covering your tracks up until this point; however, you’re mistaken. Every time you’ve edited a patient’s records on the computer, the system has logged it, and even when you delete them, it shows that your access code was used to do so." Pacing back and forth on the long table, I continued narrating the errors I had observed in Harlow’s methods.
"And then there is the issue with how you procure your tool…although it may seem ingenious, it, too, leaves a long paper trail, and all that is required is the pulling of a single threat, and it will all unravel."
"Overprescribing to falsely diagnosed terminal patients is quite smart; if we were still living in the 1950s, unfortunately, we are entering the age of technology, and you humans grow more intellectually every other decade." Glancing out of the corner of my mask, I observed Harlow’s reaction to me knowing the details of his killing method, and I saw…nothing, which made me smirk.
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’It seems he has finally become a cold-blooded killer; good, I can use that along with him being more inclined to listen to me, being a Demon and All…heh, I never thought I’d play that role.’
Funny enough, for all the different members of the Myriad Races, there weren’t any who specifically referred to themselves as Demons, or even angels for that matter.
Instead, it seems that throughout the years that humanity has walked the Earth, they have combined certain traits of races to create what they believe to be "Demons," so technically, it’s all imaginary.
You may be wondering how I can so firmly say that, well, there are MANY members of the Myriad Races who have lived thousands, if not tens of thousands of years. They basically confirmed the existence of Angels and Demons as being constructs of the imagination, which they manipulated in order to stay hidden or explain their actions to Humankind.
Luckily, Harlow wasn’t privy to that information; well, a good majority of people in the Origin Timeline weren’t either, and if I hadn’t snuck into a top-level USAHA Meeting with the Myriad Races, I wouldn’t either.
"I am surprised, Harlow; I’ve basically told you of all your previous actions, and yet you haven’t reacted," turning abruptly and facing the man while looking down at him, I poked at his psyche in an attempt to judge what I couldn’t read through his thoughts.
"What is there to be surprised about? You are a being beyond my understanding. If you told me the truth behind the world, I would be even less shocked. The facts prove themselves: you know far too much about me and what I have done to hide; on top of that, you also own my soul now…and I feel oddly connected to you." Speaking his mind without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment, Harlow didn’t bat an eye at the things he was saying, which directly opposed the version of him I had observed before the contract signing.
"Interesting, quite an interesting man, you are Harlow Sheffield. All right then, I will take my leave for now, for I need to go clean up the messes you have created and erase your paper trail."
"I will come and find you in 24 hours; until then, figure out where you wish to begin anew. I will let you know now, though, that you only have two options: vanishing without a trace or faking your death. Make your choice…" With that, I used my augmentation to move at my top speed, the shock wave of my movements obliterating the wooden desk into splinters as I suddenly disappeared from the office.