Reincarnated with an Analysis system.



Simlo marveled in awe as he held the magnificent magic gun in his hands, his eyes transfixed upon its remarkable design. His loyal ghost companion, Aley, hovered behind him, observing the scene with ethereal curiosity.

Igis, however, let out a weary sigh, his expression betraying a hint of impatience. "Let's not waste any more time," he said, striding purposefully toward the edge of the towering building. Resting there was a massive piece of equipment, draped in a voluminous fabric, awaiting its unveiling.

Simlo's voice tinged with excitement as he approached the mysterious contraption. "So, this must be the legendary angel weapon I've heard whispers about," he mused aloud, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Indeed," Ignis replied, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "And believe me when I say that this weapon will deliver a message to the accursed demon lord like nothing else can."

With a swift motion, Ignis removed the concealing fabric, revealing a truly awe-inspiring sight—a golden, enchanting magic sniper. 

It was a creation of Sato's craftsmanship, forged during the fierce war against Fiona. Somehow, Ignis had managed to acquire it, a testament to his resourcefulness.

The sniper was meticulously positioned at the precipice of the building, its sights fixed upon the sacred altar where Sato and Vlad stood, locked in a fateful confrontation.

Simlo's voice carried a tinge of skepticism as he voiced his doubts. "Are you certain this contraption is capable of taking down the formidable Demon Lord?" His gaze lingered upon the magic sniper, his expectations somewhat diminished.

Ignis leaned against the rooftop's edge, his piercing eyes scanning the vast expanse below where a sea of jubilant spectators gathered to witness the grand coronation.

A mischievous smile played across Ignis' face as he addressed Simlo. "You'll understand soon enough, my friend," he called out to one of his trusted werewolf comrades, Rio. "Inform the others that it's time to set our plan into motion. Let's make a grand entrance with a bang!"

Without hesitation, Rio swiftly departed from their group, his agile form disappearing through the door as he made his way to convey Ignis' command to the rest of their allies.

Simlo's curiosity piqued even further, a sense of anticipation filling the air. The stage was set, and the wheels of fate were about to turn, embarking them on a path destined to challenge the very forces of darkness.

In the desolate city of Nervek, the relentless Forever Knights scoured every nook and cranny in their tireless pursuit of the elusive Resistance criminals. With unwavering determination, Veronica, the resolute second-in-command, led her contingent of vampire warriors through the city's abandoned streets.

Suddenly, their relentless search led them to an uncompleted building, where Veronica and her men swiftly stormed in, seizing the opportunity to apprehend a group of five ethereal figures—ghosts who were believed to be part of the Resistance.

Veronica maintained a vigilant distance, her sharp eyes surveying the scene as her soldiers rounded up the suspected criminals. Amidst the commotion, one of her knights, Damel, approached her with an air of unease, his gaze darting nervously around.

Curiosity etched on her face, Veronica regarded Damel with a profound gaze. "What troubles you, Damel?" she inquired, her voice laced with a hint of empathy.

Damel hesitated, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's just... Are we absolutely certain that we have captured the right individuals? It's difficult to believe that these people would dare go against the Duke," he confessed, struggling to comprehend the situation.

Veronica sighed, a mixture of weariness and understanding evident in her expression. "I empathize with your concerns, Damel. I have served the Duke faithfully for many years, and I too find it hard to fathom such betrayal," she acknowledged, her tone laden with a sense of resignation. "But you see, with Duke Vlad's intention to relinquish the throne and pass it on to Sato, tensions have risen among the ghosts and vampires. They feel threatened by this impending power shift."

"Threatened?" Damel's voice betrayed a hint of confusion.

Veronica nodded, her frustration subtly surfacing. "Indeed. Especially now that the Duke has dissolved the council, other races may perceive us vampires as opportunistic, eager to exploit the vacuum left behind. It's an unsightly situation, to say the least," she lamented, a tinge of sorrow permeating her words. The intricate web of politics and power struggles had cast a shadow over their once harmonious realm.

Damel's countenance was tinged with melancholy as he absorbed Veronica's words, a heaviness settling upon him. "I... I understand," he responded, his voice laden with a touch of sadness.

Veronica, sensing his despondency, offered a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "Take heart, Damel," she encouraged, her voice gentle. "Believe it or not, I have unwavering faith in the Demon Lord Sato. Throughout our encounters, he has consistently proven himself capable of overcoming challenges."

Damel's features contorted in sheer astonishment, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What? What did you say?" he stammered, unable to contain his shock.

Perplexed by his sudden reaction, Veronica regarded him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What's the matter, Damel?" she inquired, seeking to unravel the cause of his surprise.

Damel, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, fumbled with his words. "It's just... This is the first time I've witnessed you placing your trust in someone other than our commander and the Duke," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, while his hand absentmindedly scratched the back of his head.

Veronica's smile grew, genuine warmth radiating from her. "Believe me, Damel, I find it equally astonishing," she replied, her tone infused with a touch of amusement. "But there's something about Sato that resonates with me. Call it intuition or a leap of faith. I can't quite explain it myself."

With newfound determination, Veronica strode purposefully back towards the building where the captured ghosts were being held. 

Damel seized the moment to speak, his voice projecting so she could hear him as she walked away. "So, what shall we do with them?" he queried, gesturing towards the ethereal prisoners.

Veronica turned back, her gaze fixed on the weak and vulnerable ghost among the captives. A sly glint appeared in her eyes. "Take the weakest one back inside," she commanded, her tone filled with anticipation. "I have a few questions that need answering." With those final words, she disappeared into the building, embarking on her quest for crucial information that could potentially reshape their understanding of the situation at hand.

.....

Veronica settled into a chair, her posture exuding an air of authority, as the captive ghost, assuming the form of a human snake, was firmly held before her. Damel stood silently behind her, lending his support as they delved into the interrogation.

With a disarming smile, Veronica extended her fingers, playfully twirling them in the air. "Greetings," she began, her tone deceptively gentle. "How are you feeling?" Her words carried a touch of warmth, intended to put the terrified ghost at ease.

The captured ghost trembled with fear, his ethereal form writhing with trepidation. Trapped and cornered by the Forever Knights, he could only wonder about his fate.

"There's no need to be afraid," Veronica assured him, her smile genuine. "I promise you, I have no intention of causing you harm. That is, of course, if you are willing to answer my questions. Are we in agreement? Good, now are you part of the resistance?" Her voice held a soothing cadence, seeking to foster cooperation.

The ghost, still consumed by fear, glanced nervously to the side, his apprehension evident on his face. "No... No, I have no affiliation with any resistance," he stammered, his voice quivering with genuine uncertainty.

Veronica maintained an unwavering gaze, scrutinizing the ghost's every reaction. As soon as his response left his lips, she activated a skill bestowed upon her and her comrades by Sato himself—a gift that enabled them to perceive a person's true intentions. 

In an instant, she witnessed red-tinged steam begin to emanate from the ghost's body, signaling a deep-rooted malevolence. It was a visual confirmation that the ghost's claims held no truth.

Veronica's expression remained composed, hiding her newfound knowledge. She continued to observe the deceptive specter, strategizing her next move within the shadows of her thoughts.

"Is that so?" Veronica's sigh carried a hint of disappointment as she rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and calculated. With unwavering determination, she retrieved a sleek gun from her holster, its ominous presence casting an eerie shadow across the room. Steadying her aim, she directed the weapon towards the ghost's writhing tail, the embodiment of his ethereal form.

In one swift motion, the gunshot echoed through the air, reverberating with a chilling intensity. The bullet found its mark, striking the ghost's tail with unerring precision. A piercing scream erupted from the ghost's ethereal lips, resonating with a mixture of anguish and surprise. 

In a mesmerizing dance, the wounded specter twisted and turned, his incorporeal form convulsing as he witnessed his tail slowly dissipating into nothingness, robbed of its ethereal essence.

The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the ghost's agonized cries, as the consequences of his deceit played out before him.

Veronica bent in front of the ghost, her voice cold and manicing as she spoke, "I'll ask you again… are you part of the resistance?". 

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