The conversation had taken an unexpected turn.
"Danger?" Joey echoed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked toward the somewhat reserved Sig.
For as long as they had known each other, Sig had struck him as timid—a man who kept to himself, withdrawn and hesitant. Yet listening to him now, Joey realized those traits were little more than a shell. Beneath them lurked something far more intricate.
"People are complicated, aren't they?" Sig said quietly. "One person can wear countless faces... just like Lloyd."
He always found a way to bring Lloyd into the conversation, as though the detective possessed some irresistible gravity that drew every thought back to him.
"How so?"
Joey wasn't in any hurry. There was still plenty of time before he needed to leave.
"Lloyd never hides what he is. You've noticed it too, haven't you?" Sig continued. "He's completely insane—the kind of man with a genuine self-destructive streak. But he never pretends otherwise. Sometimes... he even seems proud of it."
"In some ways, he's brutally honest. I used to worry constantly about him clashing with Madam Vanrud. You know what her temper is like."
Joey immediately pictured the fiery old woman and found himself understanding Sig's concern.
"If they ever truly came into conflict, it could easily end in bloodshed. And yet Lloyd has never crossed that line. It's almost as though the moment he steps outside, he becomes a madman... but the instant he crosses the threshold back inside, he returns to being perfectly normal."
Sig fell silent for a moment, recalling fragments of Lloyd.
"He's like a withered tree..."
His voice was scarcely above a whisper.
"An ancient tree that's already dying. Through the cracks in its bark, you can glimpse the inferno raging inside it. The flames burn him from within, slowly reducing everything he is to charcoal until nothing remains but death."
"And yet... even on that lifeless trunk, tiny green buds still manage to bloom."
"That's why I find Lloyd fascinating. Truly fascinating. I've always wanted to know how someone becomes like that."
There was something strangely unsettling in the way Sig spoke. Joey couldn't help but look at him with renewed curiosity.
"You should ask him yourself," Joey said. "You're his roommate, aren't you?"
"But he's dangerous."
Sig lowered his gaze.
"People are drawn to danger... yet when they finally stand before it, they hesitate. It's just like... the darkness buried deep within human nature."
His eyes drifted toward the others in the support group.
Men and women. Young and old.
They looked utterly ordinary.
Peaceful.
Friendly.
"Look at them," Sig murmured. "They're all getting along like brothers and sisters."
Some had already begun exchanging addresses and phone numbers. Others were making plans to travel together after the meeting.
"Joey... can you imagine it? This very group of people nearly drowned themselves in those deadly hallucinations. They sold everything they owned just to chase a few fleeting moments of false happiness. Some even walked down paths they could never return from..."
His voice grew colder.
There was no exaggeration in what he said.
Even now, somewhere in the Lower District, the same tragedies were undoubtedly unfolding.
"I used to believe both humanity and the world were divided into two halves. Black and white. Good and evil."
He lowered his head.
"But the longer I stay in Old Dunling... the more I realize how wrong I was."
"There is no absolute good. No absolute evil."
"There's only an endless sea of gray."
He no longer sounded as though he were speaking to Joey.
He was confessing to himself.
"We're all shifting masses of gray... pitiful creatures built from contradictions. Black and white exist within everyone. When you choose kindness, perhaps there's a little more white. When you commit evil, perhaps a little more black. But there is never anything absolute."
"Contradiction exists inside every single person."
"I want to understand Lloyd."
"But I'm too afraid to walk any closer."
After a long silence, Sig glanced awkwardly at Joey.
"I... don't usually talk this much."
"I can tell."
Joey smiled faintly.
"You're conflicted. You want to connect with people, but you're afraid of them. Even everything you've said to me today only came out because we're sitting in a support meeting, didn't it?"
It wasn't a complicated analysis.
Everyone lived with contradictions.
Sig did.
Joey did.
Lloyd did.
"It actually feels... pretty good to say it out loud."
Sig laughed softly.
Even after spending so much time in Old Dunling, he still had almost no friends.
Perhaps none at all.
He muttered so quietly that even he barely heard himself.
"It's strange... Humans are social creatures. We walk through crowded streets surrounded by countless others of our own kind... yet there are almost none who truly see what's inside us."
"We remain alone."
"Always."
"Trapped inside our own souls."
"What was that?" Joey asked.
"I didn't say anything."
At that moment, the room inexplicably fell silent.
Even the conversations faded away.
Just as Joey frowned in confusion, a magnificent swell of music burst through the hall.
The ancient pipe organ awakened once more.
Its weathered bronze pipes poured out a melody that surged through every corner of the cathedral.
The piece was swift.
Brief.
By the time one realized they wanted to savor it, it had already ended.
Then a man slowly approached from the front, smiling warmly as he waved to everyone.
"It looks like everyone's doing much better today," he said. "I hope you'll all leave these painful days behind soon."
Judging from the thunderous applause and cheerful whistles that greeted him, the man clearly enjoyed tremendous respect.
Several people even walked over and embraced him.
"Who is he?" Joey asked.
"The psychologist," Sig explained.
This was no ordinary support group.
Its members weren't trying to quit alcohol or tobacco.
They were fighting addiction to deadly hallucinogens.
Countless records showed that people forced to quit such substances often descended into madness, making continuous psychological care essential.
The man before them was the group's newly appointed psychologist.
He offered every member free counseling.
"I don't remember this position existing before," Joey remarked.
"Neither do I," Sig replied. "He just showed up one day with official paperwork. They said he's a doctor from Black Mountain Hospital. Everyone was nervous at first... but eventually they warmed up to him. People seem to like him."
Sig had always believed that the meetings themselves were already a kind of psychotherapy.
People laid down every defense.
They stripped away every disguise.
They exposed their true selves.
Doing that before a complete stranger...
That felt deeply unsettling.
Almost like standing naked on the level of the soul.
The doctor looked younger than thirty.
A flawless smile rested upon his face.
Neither stiff nor artificial.
Perfectly measured.
Black Mountain Hospital...
Joey knew exactly what kind of place it was.
Not everyone there dealt directly with demons. Most doctors were ordinary professionals who had no idea that the research they participated in was connected to supernatural entities at all.
The man was effortlessly likable.
Yet for reasons Joey couldn't explain, the very first time he laid eyes on him, instinct screamed rejection.
Somewhere deep inside, before reason could intervene, he had already classified the man as an enemy.
The doctor continued greeting one person after another.
There were many attendees, yet within moments he had already greeted half of them.
Soon...
He would reach Joey.
Joey had no intention of lingering.
He checked the time.
It was time to return to duty.
"Sig."
He paused before speaking.
"Lloyd isn't quite as dangerous as you imagine."
Then he hesitated.
"...But don't get too close to him."
"This time, I mean that literally."
The fact that Sig had survived so long as Lloyd's roommate without incident proved just how little the two actually interacted.
Had they grown any closer, darkness would already have wrapped itself around the unfortunate man. One night, some demon would have appeared without warning and torn his life apart.
Lloyd appeared cold.
In truth...
He kept his distance to protect the unlucky souls around him.
"What about you?" Sig asked.
"Are you just as dangerous?"
Joey stopped mid-step.
After a long silence, he answered quietly,
"More or less."
"I'm sorry."
"I guess we can only be friends for a little while."
His voice carried genuine regret.
Then, as though fleeing from something invisible, he turned and hurried away.
That was the price of joining the Purification Agency.
Or perhaps...
The price of learning what truly lurked within the darkness.
Joey looked like an ordinary man.
Just like Lloyd.
But neither of them had lived an ordinary life for a very long time.
Of course, there were certain advantages.
If Joey happened to dislike someone, all he had to do was spend a little more time with them.
Invite them out for meals.
Take a walk together.
Sooner or later...
Some demon would probably come knocking at their door.
He quickened his pace.
His shift should already be starting.
Although he'd only been away briefly, he hoped nothing had happened.
The situation throughout Old Dunling had grown increasingly dire.
That was precisely why exhaustion weighed so heavily upon him.
Unable to bear it any longer, he'd come to the support group hoping to steady his mind.
Talking with people really did ease the burden.
Yet suddenly—
His footsteps halted.
As if guided by something unseen, he slowly turned around.
Standing in the middle of the street, Joey looked back toward the place he had just left.
White stone walls rose into a towering cathedral.
Countless scars carved by time covered its surface.
Fresh green shoots burst from every crack between the ancient bricks, silently bearing witness to the immense age of the building.
He remembered clearly.
The support group hadn't always met here.
It had once gathered inside a small house hidden among crowded buildings.
Only today had someone informed him that they'd moved.
For some reason...
Something about it felt wrong.
He simply couldn't explain why.
Joey recognized the building.
It was called Saint Mary's Cathedral.
Yet with the decline of the Gospel Church and the fading of faith itself, even that name had slipped from people's memories.
Few ever came here anymore.
The cathedral remained magnificent.
And yet...
It felt as though the world had deliberately forgotten it.
As generations passed, even its name disappeared.
People no longer called it Saint Mary's.
They referred to it only by its appearance—
The White Cathedral.
Time was running short.
Suppressing the strange unease in his chest, Joey convinced himself it was nothing unusual.
After all, anyone who spent their days fighting demons inevitably developed a few problems of the mind.
Without looking back again, he walked away.
And as his figure disappeared into the streets...
The low, solemn chanting began once more.
From somewhere beyond those white walls—
It sounded as though unseen voices were singing in reverence.
The hymn climbed ever higher.
Higher.
Until it reached the heavens—
Then came crashing down.