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In the grand castle, a thirty-foot-tall Christmas tree sparkled in the center of the grand hall, its branches adorned with real silver and gold presents, courtesy of Raiden’s extravagant tastes. Eager hands clawed their way to the top, eyes fixed on the ten-carat diamond that crowned the tree. Fistfights broke out among the climbers, and bodies tumbled down with thuds, some spitting blood upon impact. Yet no one seemed to care; they simply stepped over the fallen, their eyes filled with nothing but greed and lust. As Estelle and Sylvia strolled by, they witnessed this chaos with a detached curiosity. Sylvia’s lips curled into a wry smile. “It seems those who come here have lost their souls,” she mused. Estelle nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think Raiden is purposely inflating their desires?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. What exactly is he planning?” “I just find him very strange,” Estelle said with a shake of her head. That evening, Raiden was hosting a dinner party which Alvis and Lambert attended. After sharing a quiet dinner, Estelle and Sylvia headed to the ‘Party at Midnight’ event at the local bar. The bar was more raucous than usual; it felt less like Christmas Eve and more akin to Halloween. Patrons donned bizarre costumes and masks, kissing strangers without regard to gender—it was as if all the goblins and ghosts had

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into a maid outfit and, pushing a service cart, took the elevator to the fifth floor. She stopped at room 503 and knocked. “Room service, your late-night snack,” she called. It took a while for the door to open. A man stood there, looking dazed. “I didn’t order anything,” he said in a hoarse voice. Estelle pulled down her mask. “It’s me, Estelle.” Recognition dawned on the man’s face, and a bit of clarity returned to his eyes. Sensing something was off, Estelle pushed past him

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