"Here we are again, junior. How have you been?" Anna greeted with a gentle laugh. She hadn't changed at all—her eyes curved into crescents, and her smile remained as tender as ever.

After all, it had technically only been a day since they parted.

Yet, when Moen looked at her, he felt as if an eternity had passed.

The shocking revelation that senior Anna was the mysterious shop owner had temporarily been pushed to the back of his mind. Instead, he found himself staring blankly, quietly observing Anna.

"What's wrong?"

Anna felt a bit puzzled under Moen's unfocused gaze, but then her expression turned serious. She clutched the coin pouch at her waist with exaggerated caution and said sternly:

"Junior, no matter how you beg me, I absolutely won't repay you."

"I..."

Moen was caught between amusement and exasperation, surprised by this sudden frugal declaration.

However, the smile that had just begun to form at the corners of his mouth quickly fell again.

What should have been a joyful reunion with his senior left Moen feeling an inexplicable weight in his chest—a suffocating mix of bitterness and exhaustion.

Those were emotions he'd been suppressing for too long, only to resurface in the sense of safety her presence brought.

"Senior."

"Hmm?"

"Can I... hug you?"

"Oh my, late at night, and here you go again, unable to suppress your inner flirt. Are you planning to harass me? You're such a pervert, junior."

"No, I just..."

Moen's shoulders and head drooped as though burdened by something overwhelmingly heavy.

"Forget it, senior... just think of it as—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt two cool hands gently holding his face.

Still in shock, Moen found Anna lifting his head, her toes barely touching the ground as she carefully examined his eyes.

As if realizing something, Anna's own gaze softened with unmistakable empathy. She rested his head gently on her shoulder, stroking his hair with a soothing touch.

"Junior, you've gone through something terrible tonight, haven't you?"

"..."

"I don't know what happened, but don't be too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes; it's not something worth holding yourself back."

"..."

"You're really good at acting spoiled, aren't you? It's okay to cry if you want."

"...I won't cry."

Moen quietly soaked in the warmth of her embrace, murmuring softly,

"I'm not going to cry."

"Is that so?"

Tilting her head, Anna glanced at Moen's side profile to find him maintaining a composed and determined expression. With a sigh of heartfelt understanding, she mumbled,

"Junior, you've grown stronger again."

...

...

After sharing a brief moment of warmth, Moen and Anna sat side by side against the wall, waiting for the danger that still lingered to fully subside.

Anna tugged at Moen's sleeve, signaling him to move a little closer.

Then, she pointed towards the sky. "Look up."

"The sky?"

Moen looked up in confusion.

At some point, the clouds had dispersed, revealing a crystal-clear sky overhead. A single, luminous full moon hung high, its glow unaccompanied by stars, making it appear even more strikingly radiant. Yet, a ring of ghostly blue light encircled the moon, casting an eerie, forlorn atmosphere.

"This is..."

Moen's mind cleared momentarily in realization.

"That strange person earlier... was a Moon worshiper?"

No wonder the man had been able to track him so precisely. Bathed in the moon’s eerie blue light, escape from such surveillance was almost impossible.

"Strange."

A sense of doubt crept into Moen's mind.

He hadn't crossed paths with the deity known as the Moon of Silence, so why would one of its followers want him dead?

Could it be that the deity had detected the King of Wither's power within him?

No, it shouldn't work that way. Wasn't the alchemical domain supposed to conceal his aura?

Baffled, Moen shook his head. He decided not to dwell on it further.

After all, he had long grown accustomed to the strange magnetism that seemed to draw the attention of dark gods. If even the god of love had taken no action yet, the Moon of Silence would just have to take a number and wait in line to kill him.

Besides, shouldn't the Moon’s attention right now be focused on another certain sunlight-wielding warrior heading for a visit to deliver some "warmth"?

Shaking off the thought, Moen edged a little closer to his senior.

And no, it totally wasn’t because her shoulder was soft or that she smelled nice. It was just because this was the only space that remained untouched by the moonlight.

"Senior, do you know who that strange man was?"

"I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard the stories."

"Stories?"

"One of the Lower City District's urban legends: the Shadow Butcher."

Anna seemed unaffected by Moen's subtle maneuver, casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke in a calm tone:

"He’s described as dressed in a black raincoat, wearing a bizarre mask, and wielding a blood-stained butcher’s knife. The rumor is that he can attack people’s shadows, even capturing and devouring them. Those whose shadows he consumes are said to lose all their flesh and blood instantly."

"...Sounds exactly like him."

Moen couldn't help but shiver.

The gruesome image of what had happened to Lorenzo—a scene that looked as though he had been devoured alive—lingered vividly in Moen’s mind, making his stomach churn.

"Speaking of which, I never imagined senior would turn out to be the mysterious shop owner."

Moen suddenly let out a sigh, his tone carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.

Thinking about it, his connection with Anna hadn’t only begun at the academy—it had existed long before that in a way. That had to be destiny, right? A sign that their bond was as interwoven as the roots of a great tree.

Pleased by the thought, Moen found himself unusually upbeat. All his earlier musings about exacting revenge or spanking the "store owner" were now nothing but water under the bridge.

Honestly, who was he kidding? Trying to spank his senior? That would definitely backfire with her spanking him instead.

"I didn’t expect that my junior would turn out to be that customer too."

Anna’s lips curved into an amused smile as she looked at Moen, her tone carrying a teasing lilt. "Speaking of which, I’m quite curious about something, junior."

"What is it?"

"The... special kind of potion my junior bought from the shop earlier. What exactly was that for?"

"..."

Moen’s expression froze instantly, and a fine sheen of cold sweat practically burst out on his forehead.

What was it for? Well, obviously, it was to drug a certain princess.

But could he say that? Absolutely not!

"Surely, it wasn’t actually meant for an elephant, was it?"

Judging from Moen’s flustered expression, Anna’s mischievous grin widened. But it was clear from her teasing look that she wasn’t genuinely interested in the answer—she just wanted to mess with him more.

And the more she played like this, the more helpless he felt.

After all, who could possibly find a way to deal with a mischievous and crafty yet entirely good-hearted little devil like senior Anna?

Left with no other choice, Moen deployed his trump card: a complete distraction.

"Senior, I have something to give you."

"Something for me?"

Anna tilted her head slightly, her confusion evident. "Is today some kind of special occasion?"

"Today?"

Moen gave the question some thought before replying, "It’s the 57th day since we met in the library."

"Giggle, stop making things up."

Anna’s laugh was delicate and sweet, but Moen straightened his face with earnest determination. "It really is the 57th day! Go ahead, senior—count if you don’t believe me!"

"Alright, alright. Let’s say it is the 57th day. So what is my junior planning to give me for this… anniversary?"

"This."

Moen brought out a crimson gemstone box.

The moment the familiar treasure came into Anna’s view, she seemed to freeze for a moment.

"This... This is?"

"Yes, it's the Tear of True Love."

Moen smiled as he carefully opened the box.

Nestled against a velvet red lining in the center, the teardrop-shaped pink gemstone sparkled brilliantly—even in the darkness, it radiated breathtaking magnificence.

"Why is it in your hands?"

Anna’s confusion only lasted a couple of seconds before she suddenly put two and two together.

"So... you’re the mysterious bidder No. 88? And it was you who called the guards tonight?"

"Yes."

Moen nodded, his smile unchanging.

But there was a fleeting shadow in his gaze, a brief flicker of melancholy that didn’t escape Anna’s notice.

She chose not to press the matter further, moving her attention instead to the dazzling gem.

"I can’t accept this, junior..."

"You don’t want it, senior?"

"...I do. But accepting it just like this, for free, feels..."

"It’s not for free."

Locking eyes with Anna, Moen’s tone grew serious.

"Remember? I said before—it’s a reward. A token of gratitude for everything senior has done to help me. You’ve helped me so much, yet you’ve never asked for anything in return. If I let it stay that way, I’ll feel uneasy. So, please, accept it."

After a brief silence, Anna slowly smiled and replied, "In that case, I won’t stand on ceremony."

She reached out her hand to take the gemstone, but Moen gently stopped her.

"Allow me."

He took the Tear of True Love from its box, and only then did Anna notice the fine details of its design. Two small, delicate "tails" were attached to the gemstone—crystal-clear chains that shimmered faintly, catching the eye. When attached, they made the gem look like an angel with slender, graceful wings.

"I was surprised when I first discovered them too. But later, I read through the auction description and learned this gemstone had already been modified into a necklace long ago. It wasn't mentioned at the auction to avoid depreciating the value."

Moen chuckled lightly. "Though one might call it deception, I actually think it’s quite lovely."

Holding both ends of the necklace, Moen carefully raised it in front of Anna. The gemstone swayed gently in the air like a teardrop poised to fall, glowing with unparalleled brilliance.

"Isn’t it beautiful?"

"Yes, very beautiful."

Normally, any woman would feel delighted receiving such a stunning necklace, but Moen noticed something unusual in Anna’s visage. Beneath her serene exterior, there was a faint trace of sadness.

"Senior? Don’t you like it?"

"No, I love it. But precisely because I love it... it somehow makes me hesitant to take it."

"Huh?"

Moen was baffled, but Anna didn’t elaborate further. Instead, she lifted her dark, cascading hair and smiled softly.

"Junior, would you help me put it on?"

"Uh..."

Moen was momentarily stunned.

When he’d taken the necklace out, it had only been to show it to her. He never expected that senior Anna would actually want him to help her wear it.

Gazing at her swan-like, fair neck, Moen suddenly felt his throat go dry.

Noticing his hesitation, Anna tilted her head slightly and asked, "What’s wrong? Is my junior unwilling?"

"No, I’m willing—how could I not be!"

Moen instantly straightened up. This was no time to falter. What kind of man would he be if he chickened out now?

Taking a deep breath, he carefully held the necklace in both hands, gently looping it around Anna's neck.

The soft strands of her hair brushed faintly against his skin, tickling and distracting him in ways he hadn't expected. From this angle, with her long lashes casting fleeting shadows over her gaze, senior Anna seemed even more enchanting.

"Slower, slower please."

Moen said softly in his heart.

And so his movements slowed as well, to the point where even time seemed to have frozen.

If only this moment could last forever, he thought. At least in this instant, he could forget all his troubles and quietly appreciate the beauty of the young girl.

But at that very moment, Anna suddenly lifted her head, her eyes revealing an intense seriousness... and disgust.

"Sorry, senior, I’ll hurry up…."

Moen thought that his overly slow pace had annoyed her, so he was about to speed up. But suddenly, Anna slapped her palm onto his chest.

It wasn’t an attack. A soft force spread from her palm, pushing Moen back a few steps. In the same motion, Anna reached out and caught the "Tear of True Love" that had just fallen from the air, quickly tucking it away.

That's when Moen finally sensed it—the sudden, icy death warning that screamed in his mind. Immediately, a chilling gleam tore through the air, stabbing violently into the wall between Moen and Anna.

It was a crescent-shaped blade, shimmering coldly in the moonlight.

"My, my, what an irritating sight to behold," a charming voice cooed.

Startled, Moen turned his head and saw a sultry woman standing atop a nearby wall. Her outfit was unmistakably provocative.

She wore a tight leather suit with a plunging V-neck that extended all the way to her navel, exposing much of her round, ample chest. Her stilettos looked to be at least ten centimeters high, and her face bore heavy, dramatic makeup. Her figure was impossibly alluring, enough to make most men’s noses flare with heat.

Yet when Moen saw her, a bone-chilling fear gripped him, as if he’d been locked in the gaze of a venomous snake.

"Who are you?" Moen asked warily.

The sultry woman’s eyes scanned him up and down, as though she was evaluating... a fascinating toy. Yet somehow, despite this woman's appearance being unlike anyone he’d ever seen, Moen still felt a strange sense of familiarity—a maddening intuition that seemed to grow ever more untrustworthy.

"Nice to meet you—or should I say, nice to meet you in this form for the first time. Hello, Moen Campbell. You may call me 'Miss Banshee.'"

The woman delicately pinched the edge of an imaginary skirt and performed a seductive curtsy toward Moen.

"Meeting in this form for the first time?"

Moen repeated the curious phrase in his head, but before he could delve further into it, a gentle voice whispered in his ear.

"How did you find me?"

Anna’s expression was exceedingly grave. "I thought I had completely purged the moon’s influence."

"Ah, well…"

The banshee raised a hand and inhaled deeply near her nose, as though savoring a fine aroma. Her face flushed with fervor. "It's a secret."

Scent? Was that it?

When did I let my scent slip?

I’ve replaced my scent-masking potions multiple times during the journey; it shouldn’t have leaked.

"Get ready to run, junior," Anna’s voice murmured close to his ear.

"She’s dangerous."

"I know," Moen replied, taking a deep breath.

Even from half a street away, the chilling aura emanating from Miss Banshee made the corner of Moen’s eye twitch involuntarily.

What in the world is happening tonight? Monsters are coming in pairs now?

And judging by the conversation between Anna and this woman, is she another follower of that sinister deity, the Moon of Silence?

"Do you think you can escape?" Lady Banshee looked at Moen, laughing coyly.

"I’d like to think I’m pretty good at running," Moen shot back.

"Is that so? I’ll be watching with interest."

Miss Banshee laughed seductively, blowing him a flirtatious kiss. But instead of feeling captivated, Moen felt a chilling dread creeping down his spine.

Glancing to his side, Moen discreetly reached out a hand toward Anna.

"Senior, take my hand."

The strange banshee had made a critical error: she hadn’t blocked off the alleyway's exit. Judging by the distance, if Moen continuously used Shadow Step, they might just manage to escape.

Their eyes met in silent communication, and Anna seemed to approve of the plan. She reached out her soft, slender hand toward his.

But Moen never got to grasp it.

At that very moment, Moen’s finely honed death intuition—sharpened through countless trials—erupted once more. A disgusting, gut-wrenching sense of danger surged over him like an ocean’s depth.

This time, the threat wasn’t coming from the banshee in front of him—it was from behind!

"Delicious!"

With a deafening crash, the wall behind them exploded, sending bricks and dust flying everywhere. A tall, thin figure clad in a heavy raincoat swung a massive butcher’s blade, smashing through the wall. Beneath a grotesquely stitched flesh mask, there was an expression of utter madness and fury!

And at that moment, the rhythmic drumbeat of Moen’s violently pounding heart resounded once more.

Damn it, when did he get this close?!

The thought barely registered in Moen’s mind before he found himself unable to respond in time. Instinctively, he crossed his twin daggers in front of himself to shield his vital parts.

There was no way the daggers could fully block the butcher’s brutal weapon—Moen had already resigned himself to tanking the blow with the durability of his body and making good on the resilience granted by his divine blessing, the King of Wither. As long as his head wasn’t chopped off, he wouldn’t die.

But the spray of blood Moen was expecting didn’t come.

Instead, in his stunned view, another slender figure interposed herself between him and the butcher’s blade.

"Senior!"

Moen’s mind went blank, a ringing in his ears as his vision filled with red. He could only watch as Anna raised a single arm to block the butcher’s blow.

What was she doing?

Why was she taking the hit for him?

He wouldn’t die!

With the godly protection of the King of Wither, unless his head was completely severed, his life wouldn't end!

Ah, right. She didn’t know.

In that instant, Moen’s thoughts accelerated at a speed he had never experienced before. His initial instinct to defend himself shifted entirely. Like a berserk beast, he lunged madly toward the Shadow Butcher.

But he was still too late.

The butcher’s blade reached Anna’s arm, instantly shredding her sleeve. In the same moment, Moen was certain he was about to see her entire arm sliced clean off.

But that scene never materialized. Instead, the sound that rang out was metallic—a clash of iron against iron!

The blade had struck Anna’s arm, producing a sharp metallic screech and even throwing sparks.

Moen froze momentarily, his mind reeling from the surreal familiarity of the scene.

As the protective wall crumbled behind them, unblocked moonlight spilled onto the battlefield. Caught in its silvery glow, Moen’s peripheral gaze caught a glimmer of something chilling—Anna’s exposed arm seemed to gleam with an icy metallic luster. For just a moment, her crystalline red eyes contracted into snake-like vertical pupil.

With her other hand, she pointed toward the Shadow Butcher, her lips moving to utter an incantation in an unfamiliar, arcane tongue.

Instantly, a deathly grey spread across half the butcher’s body, his skin stiffening as though petrified.

Petrified!

"Junior!"

The senior's cool voice sounded again in Moen’s ear.

Snapped back to reality, Moen set aside any questions. Seizing the moment of the butcher’s restricted movement, he closed the distance and plunged his pure-white blade into the creature’s body.

"Elizabeth!"

Moen yelled.

The weapon vibrated with life.

Being forged from the material of a holy sword, "Elizabeth" retained certain inherent qualities. The blade erupted with blinding holy light, flooding the butcher's form with purifying energy.

"Not... delicious!"

The Shadow Butcher instantly let out a hiss of pain, and from within his body came a sound like burning fire, as he swung his other hand haphazardly and attacked Moen.

Moen deftly dodged it, while the short blade danced, slicing through the Shadow Butcher's mackintosh, revealing the shrivelled chest that seemed to be devoid of any trace of flesh and blood present, as well as--

That black hideous heart beating in the middle of the chest.

"Eat eat eat, your brain is out of your mind and still eating, try my bloodletting therapy!"

Moen roared as he plunged his short blade into the shadow butcher's heart, but when he was about to completely kill this guy, his blade suddenly reversed, slicing through all that diffuse smoke and colliding with a fluttering shadow.

"Oops, the sneak attack didn't even work?"

The banshee's tongue licked over her demonic red lips, making it even more seductive, and at such a close distance, she flirtatiously threw another wink towards Moen, smiling delicately:

"Big man, do you want to have fun with me?"

"Get lost, I only like black silk big sisters!"

Thunder!

Moen shook the banshee away.

Seemingly angered by Moen's words, the banshee's eyes also went cold.

But the flirtatious smile remained.

"Kinda hate this feeling of being rejected by you."

"What a coincidence, my favourite thing to do is to say no to a self-righteous woman like you!"

Taking advantage of the gap between the banshee staggering back, Moen pounced once again.

The Shadow Butcher had been temporarily incapacitated, so take her down first!

With his daggers waving, his attack was like a raging wind and rain, constantly pressing down on the banshee.

However, in the face of Moen's attack, the banshee surprisingly didn't panic at all, and those two moon arc-like curved swords, in her hands, surprisingly had a harshness that didn't lose to Moen in the slightest.

"So strong."

Moen was secretly shocked.

He felt that the banshee's strength didn't exceed his own by much, but whether it was her speed or her reactions, she had suppressed him to death.

It was only with the skills that he had constantly honed in the black book that he was slightly better than her.

However, this was not enough to determine victory.

In that case ......

Moen suddenly rushed over, completely abandoning his defence and letting the banshee's Moon Arc Scimitar chop at himself, while Elizabeth, at the same time, stabbed at the banshee's vitals at a tricky angle.

"This is ......"

The banshee raised her eyebrows slightly, and her figure suddenly twisted strangely, just as she suddenly retracted her attack in an extremely unconventional movement.

She drew back, avoiding Moen's strike for her life.

"Aya, this kind of life-threatening attack, are you really the Duke's son? Moen Campbell?" The banshee teased with a light laugh.

"Hehe, being such a wimp, are you really a dark god believer?" Moen sneered back.

"It can't be helped, right now, I don't want to have myself bleeding here."

"What do you mean?" Moen frowned.

"Oops~"

The banshee, however, suddenly cocked her head and listened carefully.

As if she heard something, she withdrew the scimitar in her hand and said:

"Then, let's call it a night, Moen Campbell?"

"Hey?"

Moen slightly stunned.

What the hell?

Call it a night?

Is this such a good friends' party? And with the next round?

"What are you plotting?"

"There's more to our destiny than this."

"I don't even know you."

"Oh, who knows?"

The banshee looked at Anna again.

Anna was clutching her arm at this moment, beads of sweat constantly forming on her forehead as if she were enduring some great pain.

The goal had been achieved, even beyond expectations.

"I look forward to seeing you again, Anna Kablin," the Banshee said softly.

"By then, you should have a different answer."

Before they realized it, the Shadow Butcher stood behind her, his furious gaze piercing through the grotesque mask of stitched flesh, boring into both Moen and Anna.

Yet, in front of the Banshee, this terrifying monster behaved as obediently as a well-trained pet.

The Banshee once again made a gesture as if smoothing non-existent fabric on her dress, then performed a bewitching curtsey toward Moen and Anna.

"Now that the actors and stage are ready, it’s a pity that I cannot sit in the audience to properly enjoy this drama. Moen Campbell, as my designated spectator, make sure you enjoy this from your special seat."

"Goodbye, you two."

"Wait!"

Moen, confused by the cryptic words of the Banshee, tried to stop her. But just as he raised his hand, the air rippled, and the two figures immediately vanished.

Once again, the desolate alley was left with only Moen and Anna.

The moon seemed to return to its normal state, casting a serene and gentle light on the alley below.

"What kind of madness is this..."

The departure of the two formidable enemies brought Moen little relief.

On the contrary, the abrupt ending of this attack left him feeling like a cloud of uncertainty had settled over his heart.

Fanatical cultists, no matter how insane, wouldn't attack for mere amusement—they must have a deeper scheme.

But there was no time to dwell on that now.

"Senior, are you okay?"

Moen quickly approached Anna. After taking a direct hit from the Shadow Butcher and seemingly activating some type of curse-like counterattack, her condition seemed far from normal.

Her vertical pupils had to have been a trick of the light. Her eyes still shimmered like crystal, yet she appeared to be enduring immense pain, sitting against the wall, her breaths labored, cold sweat dripping from her forehead.

"I’m fine. I’m alright," Anna said, hiding her injured arm beneath her oversized black cloak, forcing a smile.

"It’s just a small wound."

"But..."

Moen clenched his fists. If only he’d reacted a bit quicker...

"No buts. I deliberately charged forward to distract the opponent; this has nothing to do with you." Anna playfully winked, then pulled out a shimmering potion.

She drank the potion in one gulp, her pale complexion visibly regaining its color nearly instantaneously.

"See, my dear junior? My potion is foolproof," Anna said with a smug grin, shaking the empty bottle like a trophy.

"Is... that so?"

Moen’s gaze briefly flicked to her other hand. If she were healed, why was she still keeping that hand hidden?

And what he’d seen reflecting in the light earlier—it distinctly resembled...

"Alright, junior," Anna interrupted his thoughts suddenly, extending her hand to him like a princess awaiting a kiss on the back of her hand.

"Help me up, will you?"

"This..." Moen froze for a moment, his expression growing tense.

"Senior, have you lost the strength to stand?"

"Sigh, you’re usually so sharp, junior! Why are you being so slow now?" Anna tilted her head, feigning a reproachful pout.

"Can’t you see I’m just giving you a chance to shine? If you don’t want it, I'll just take it back."

"I want it! How could I not?"

Moen grabbed her delicate, fair hand without hesitation.

Her hand was softer than Moen had imagined, colder too, and remarkably small.

Yet oddly enough, holding her hand filled Moen with a sudden calmness.

At that moment, the moon shyly retreated behind the clouds again.

But to Moen, the entire world seemed to light up.

It was as though a new sun had risen, illuminating the reddish glow on the girl's cheeks.

So beautiful.

The lingering gloom in his heart appeared to dissipate entirely—cultists, schemes, the moon—they all felt unimportant now. Moen gazed at the stunningly beautiful girl before him, locking eyes with her gentle gaze.

"What’s wrong?" The girl chuckled softly, and there seemed to be a sunrise in her eyes as well.

Time seemed to halt once more. Moen’s heart, as if pulled into her orbit, trembled lightly as he stammered:

"Senior, I..."

"Target checked!"

"Dark god energy detected!"

"Squad Five, seal the area. Squads One and Three, suppress the targets. Knights, stand ready!"

A shrill voice ripped through the air, shattering the tranquility.

The previously silent street was suddenly consumed by deafening chaos.

Before the stunned and horrified eyes of the young man and girl, a second sun truly rose.

Blinding, scorching light surged into the narrow alley, banishing all darkness and shadows.

The ground began to tremble wildly; tiny pebbles and insignificant dust particles leapt into a ridiculous dance.

From afar, the scene at the end of the street revealed itself: towering figures adorned in silver-plated armor, golden-patterned shields in hand, and gleaming spears that exuded a frosty menace.

The Knights?

Why on earth were the Knights in the Lower City District?

But what squeezed the air out of Moen’s lungs wasn’t the fabled Knights, but rather, the other figures clad in black trench coats.

They appeared out of nowhere, their pallid faces reflecting the lack of sunlight over the years. Despite their unassuming presence, the emblem on their chests pierced through like a dagger brighter than the blazing sun.

It was a single blade-like finger, held to black lips in a silencing gesture—a symbol of absolute silence.

The Silencers?

Why were they here?

Were they here to capture the two who had just disappeared? That would be...

Even before that flicker of joy could properly surface, Moen turned back abruptly, only to see his senior, Anna's face, losing all color, turning deathly pale.

Huh?

"Commence suppression!"

The cold, detached order reverberated through the alley.

Golden, dazzling barriers descended from the skies, forming an unbreakable wall that forcibly separated Moen and Anna.

What?

"Attention on Moen Campbell! He is a Class-One protected target. He must not be harmed!"

Several black-clad figures lunged forward, shielding Moen as one of them produced a glowing device. Sweeping the instrument before Moen, the figure glanced at its readings before sighing in relief.

"No signs of contamination in Moen Campbell!"

What are you guys doing?!

Anna struggled to her feet, wobbling as if ready to bolt. Yet, the golden glow intensified and bore down forcefully, crushing her frail frame to the ground.

What are you doing?!

What are you doing?!

"What are you doing?!"

The sight before him ignited an instantaneous fury within Moen's heart. He shoved aside the people before him, desperate to reach his senior.

"Moen Campbell, don't worry. You are safe now," the same figure holding the instrument blocked his path, forcing an awkward smile.

"This cultist will be suppressed soon enough. You’re extraordinarily lucky to come into such close contact without..."

"You’re the goddamn cultist!"

Before the man could finish, Moen’s reddened eyes and clenched fist drove straight into his face.

Cultist?

His senior?

Are you spouting nonsense in broad daylight?!

The man yelped as he was knocked backward.

Taking advantage of the moment, Moen immediately activated Shadow Step.

But an oppressive force descended in an instant, pulling him out of his movement state altogether.

"Seize him! Do not let him interfere!"

Moen heard the cold order again.

The area erupted into chaos as multiple figures tackled Moen to the ground, pinning him completely.

"What are you doing?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"The cultists—weren’t they the two from earlier?! Why are you targeting my senior?!"

Moen's furious roars met with no response.

Several Silencers restrained him tightly, immobilizing him completely.

He could only watch helplessly as the commanding middle-aged man closed in on his senior step by step. The golden light radiating from him grew brighter, and in his control, icy chains with an eerie consciousness coiled tightly around Anna’s slender frame.

Then, gripping her hidden hand with a gauntlet of silver, he exposed what she had been trying to conceal.

Anna trembled. For the first time, Moen saw helplessness flash across her usually confident face.

"Bastard! Take your filthy hands off my senior!"

Boundless rage boiled within Moen, his pupils igniting like molten lava.

But just then, he heard a soft, cold sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a silver-haired figure.

"Let him rest for a while," a familiar voice murmured.

A sweet, cloying fragrance flooded his nostrils. His consciousness blurred instantly.

In the final moments before he lost consciousness, Moen saw his senior sending him a heartbreaking glance.

And the hand she had been forced to reveal wasn’t the slender, flawless one he had imagined—it was covered in dense, black, and sinister scales.

That is...

"Stage three of Serpent Transformation confirmed. Mental corruption from the dark god remains undetected," the middle-aged man released his grip, speaking with pity.

"Threat level provisionally assigned as Class A. Detain her for now."

...

...