"Junior, whatever happens next, it’s none of my business."

Anna tilted her head slightly upward, gazing at Moen.

Her chest, impossibly high, pressed tightly against Moen’s own, her collarbones faintly visible. The flawless curve of her neck extended into a swan-like grace, making her particularly captivating from this angle.

She gently tilted her head, her clear eyes forming crescent moons, while the tear mole at the corner of her eye exuded a unique charm. A mischievous smile played at the corners of her lips, with her cherry-red, luscious lips looking irresistibly enticing.

Breathing in her familiar scent, Moen's gaze fell upon Anna’s lips, his breath suddenly becoming heavier.

The sun had only just risen, and the city had yet to awaken. The surrounding silence amplified everything. Even though she had just said something like that, Moen could distinctly hear his own pounding heartbeat in this moment.

Anna seemed to sense something, but she made no effort to pull away from Moen's chest. Instead, she kept her head raised, her trembling eyelids slowly closing.

Moen’s throat went dry. He began to regret not showering beforehand, not rinsing his mouth, not chewing more mint candies, and still smelling of sweat from spending too much time with those rats.

But in moments like these, there was no room for hesitation.

Moen lifted his hand, gently wrapping it around Anna's waist, then slowly leaned down.

Just as the distance between them closed, with their breaths mingling—

Clang!

A roadside vendor struck their welcoming gong, signaling the start of their business.

The intimate atmosphere was instantly shattered.

Anna opened her eyes, her beautiful gaze tinged with traces of both irritation and alarm.

Moen’s actions changed suddenly as well. What was a gentle embrace turned into a powerful clasp around Anna’s waist. With a swift motion, he pulled her into the shadows, away from the sunlight.

Disregarding the stiffness in the girl’s body, Moen pressed himself against the crack of a wall and looked toward the distant streets.

Figures dressed in trench coats moved rapidly through the alleyways, closing in quickly.

"It’s the Silence Agency. They’ve found us."

“This... this quickly?”

Pressed against his chest, Anna's cheeks flushed red.

"If I managed to find you, they naturally could as well—it was only a matter of time," Moen said, lowering his eyes with calm resignation.

"Fortunately, I made some preparations ahead of time."

"Preparations?"

Anna pinched Moen’s arm in protest to escape his iron grip and peeked through the crack in the wall herself.

Her beautiful eyes widened in surprise.

The sunrise cast its soft light over the misty alleyways near the academy grounds.

It was an area typically deserted, shunned even by vagrants who found it ominous. But in this instant, as if summoned by an inaudible signal, the entire street suddenly sprang to life.

Beggars, prostitutes, vagabonds, sailors, coachmen, vendors... a massive crowd of ordinary people emerged from seemingly nowhere. Most were clad in ragged clothing, their expressions vacant, but they all converged onto this rarely-traversed street.

Bustling and lively, the street scene mimicked that of a normal, thriving marketplace. Voices hawking wares and the din of noisy chatter erupted, creating an illusion of vibrant activity.

The trench-coated figures of the Silence Agency were quickly swallowed by the surging crowd. Some found themselves intercepted by eager street vendors, enthusiastically offering hot breakfasts. Others were latched onto by provocatively dressed women, who tried to drag them into dimly-lit alleys.

The fearsome Silencers were surprisingly—and completely—bogged down by these "ordinary" people.

"This is..."

"A little trick of mine. It should buy us some time," Moen said with a faintly self-deprecating smile. "Though perhaps it’s a bit underhanded, don’t you think?"

Turning back, Moen braced himself for the possibility of Anna's scolding.

But there was none.

Instead, he found himself staring into a pair of gentle, luminous eyes.

"Junior."

Anna suddenly reached out, cupping Moen’s face with her hands. She studied his astonished expression with care, a flicker of heartache flashing in her gaze.

"I never got the chance to take a good look at you. Over this time... you seem to have changed a lot."

"Have I?"

Moen touched his chin, feigning nonchalance. "Maybe I forgot to shave my beard, so I look older."

"Liar."

Anna pulled his head into her embrace without warning, wrapping him in a soft, warm haven.

Her fingers combed gently through his hair, her expression tender.

"Liar."

Moen trembled slightly but surrendered to the comfort of the moment, immersing himself in the intoxicating scent and warmth he had been allowed.

But time pressed on.

Reluctantly, Moen lifted his head from the 'divine sanctuary'. “It’s time to go.”

“Mm.”

Anna gave a small nod and rose to her feet, stepping out of the shadows first.

She spun around lightly in place, clearing away any remnants of unwanted emotion, then extended a hand toward Moen, mimicking his earlier gesture in an inviting way.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Moen blinked in surprise. "Go where?"

"Didn’t you once ask me to woo you, Junior?"

Bathed in the gentle morning light, Senior Anna smiled radiantly, her tone carrying delightful mischief.

“Let’s go on a date.”

…

…

“Mercy please, kind sir, I haven’t eaten in three days...”

In the crowded street, a ragged beggar clung to the hem of a middle-aged man’s trench coat, holding out a battered bowl with a pitiful expression.

“Damn it!”

The pale-skinned middle-aged man, whose complexion suggested he hadn’t seen sunlight in ages, glared at the beggar. Veins bulged on his forehead as his fists clenched tightly.

You wretched commoners… daring to interfere with the Silence Agency’s mission…

Grudgingly, the man fished out a few banknotes from his coat, stuffing them into the beggar’s bowl with a growl of irritation. “Get lost!”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

The beggar hobbled away hastily, disappearing into the crowd.

“I thought you would kill him outright.”

A cold voice drifted over from nearby.

The middle-aged man turned his head toward a stunning silver-haired figure leaning against the wall.

“Your Highness jests. The Silence Agency may be ruthless, but we wouldn’t stoop so low as to harm ordinary civilians.”

“Is that so? Even if they disrupt your operations?”

“Circumstances would dictate. Right now, our top priority remains those cultists hiding deep within Belland, no?”

“Fair enough.”

Celicia raised her head, her calm gaze stretching toward a distant building. The highest level, where two fleetingly familiar shadows disappeared through a broken opening.

"By the way, I never caught your name."

"Kinzer," the man said after a moment of hesitation.

“Kinzer… A fine name. Doesn’t suit your personality at all, though.”

“Are you complimenting me, Your Highness, or mocking me?”

“Of course, I’m complimenting you.”

Celicia smiled faintly, then added with a nonchalant tone:

“Since you’ve shared your name with me, why not show some generosity and share the Silence Agency’s next plan as well?”

“...”

"Am I, as the appointed inspector, not qualified to know?" Celicia asked coldly.

Under the royal family’s tacit approval, the Silence Order wielded nearly unchecked power in their fight against the forces of the dark god.

However, to balance such authority, the royal palace always dispatched an inspector to oversee the Order’s activities during major operations.

Having been a silent observer at that previous meeting, Celicia naturally became the inspector for this mission.

“For such information, Your Highness would need to consult directly with that person." Kinzer clearly wasn’t thrilled by her presence.

“That person, huh…”

Celicia shifted her gaze towards the pitch-black carriage at the end of the alley, her eyes flickering thoughtfully.

Indeed, the inspector might have royal authorization, but in front of that old man… it felt almost meaningless.

…

Inside the carriage.

A frail old man, his skin mottled with age spots, lifted his clouded gaze to meet Kinzer, who knelt with immense respect before him.

“How did it go?”

“She got away.”

“Is that so?”

There was no pleasure or disappointment in the old man’s expression. He shut his eyes again, as if ready to drift back into slumber.

But Kinzer’s unease was evident. His hands fidgeted, clawing anxiously at his own knee.

“Something on your mind?” the elder inquired.

“My lord, I cannot understand. We had so many chances to capture Anna Kablin. Why deliberately let her slip through? She’s clearly a pivotal figure in the dark god’s scheme—”

“...”

A long silence hung in the air before the old man finally sighed.

“Kinzer, do you believe in miracles?”

“Miracles?”

Kinzer blinked, utterly caught off guard by such an unexpected question from a man notorious for his cold pragmatism.

After a brief pause, he replied, “No, I don’t believe in miracles. I only trust what I can see and touch.”

“...I don’t much believe in them either. But as one ages... one starts dreaming about implausible, far-fetched things.”

The old man tapped the table lightly, and a massive silver chest, half a person high, materialized before Kinzer.

“This is…”

“This is your new mission.”

The elder’s voice grew soft, almost like a whisper.

"On the night of the eclipse, you won’t join the main forces to exterminate the cultists. Instead…”

He shifted slightly, resembling a man languishing in a fragile dream.

“Before everything concludes… use this to kill Anna Kablin.”