“No matter what you say, getting my Demon Race to hand it over is absolutely impossible.” Edlyn drawled like a cat stretching in sunlight, then hopped onto Eli’s lap, treating him as a warm chair and burrowing into his arms.

Eli sighed, helpless warmth rising like a small hearth, then smoothed her hair as if palm over river stones, and tightened his embrace.

Edlyn arched a brow, impatience flicking like a sparrow’s tail. “Your armor’s too hard—feels like a stone wall. Not comfy.”

“Easy, easy. We’re doing business here. Give the others a little face, yeah?” Eli reached out and kneaded her small head, like calming ripples on a pond.

“Hero, you dragged me here, and you dragged Eli here. What exactly for?” Edlyn’s look was a blade of cold light.

“Honestly? I want your Demon Race to operate a few Godslayer Weapons. With you at the controls, the artificial demonic aura inside those vessels gets used right. You’ll get results better than ours. Why the temper?” Birand lifted a cup; steam curled like pale snakes as he took a light sip.

“Just that? Not turning my Demon Race into your energy supply? That’s what you told me before!” Edlyn’s anger flared like sparks in dry grass.

“That was a last resort. The remaining races are united under me. A Celestial God could reopen the world’s passage any time and descend like a storm. This isn’t the hour for bickering.” Birand threw a look at their furrowed faces, like checking a darkening sky.

He smiled. “My other half, don’t glare at me. I’m being honest. If we can’t close the gap, we step back and let your Demon Race operate the weapons. Simple.”

“Not trustworthy.” Eli’s voice was cool, but discomfort pressed like a stone on his chest; a traitor once is a shadow twice, and trust doesn’t bloom on salted soil.

He saw the path—Birand had struck Demon territory while he was gone. Next time? A dagger at Edlyn’s throat. He couldn’t gamble with her life.

“I’m serious. It was expedience, gathering top-tier strength.” Birand shrugged, shoulders loose as a reed in wind. “Lying to you now gains me nothing.”

“Show some sincerity.” Eli’s smile carried steel under silk. “You keep asking for our side’s resources. What do you bring to our table?”

Birand frowned, pride dipping like a falcon folding its wings, his eyes dimming as thoughts pooled.

Silence settled, like dusk in a quiet courtyard.

Gurgle—

Eli’s face flattened; he looked down at Edlyn, as if checking a kitten caught near the fish jar.

Edlyn looked up, hands flapping like startled sparrows. “No—not me! I just ate. How could it be me? Absolutely not!”

They turned in sync toward Liqianyu, who was whistling like a guilty breeze.

Liqianyu blinked, met their eyes, and her bravado shrank like frost under sun. “Okay, it’s me.”

“Hey, Eli. I sprinted all this way with you, did nothing else, I’m starving like an empty drum. Don’t look at me like that. Hey! Ai-chan! Don’t you dare give me that look. You’re a big eater too!”

“What!” Edlyn’s brow kicked up; she sprang off Eli’s lap like a startled doe, disbelief flashing. “I treated you as a friend, and you slander me?”

“Where am I wrong? You eat more than me, admit it.” Liqianyu argued, stance planted like a stubborn tree.

Eli’s mouth twitched; he lowered his head, silence like a shield—one word and the whole room would be on fire.

The two glared, brows locked like crossing blades. After a long beat, they turned away together.

“Hmph.” “Hmph.”

Birand came back to himself, took in the scene, and blinked. “Uh? What just happened?”

Eli lifted a brow. “Not your business. Just tell us what you can offer.”

“Alright.” Birand’s shrug fluttered like loose cloth. “Territory? Even if your Demon Race leaves the Abyss, you won’t look twice at our little human lands.”

Edlyn’s laugh was cold, a knife on ice. “My Demon Race wants the world. Humanity? That’s just one slice of my map.”

“Heh. So forget territory.” Birand ticked fingers, each thought a bead on a string. “Supplies? Nothing matches the stake of this deal. Your Demon Race needs too little; you’re not hungry for resources.”

“As for making my human citizens bow to you? Impossible. Don’t even think it.”

“This is your idea of cooperation?!” Edlyn’s anger rose like thunderheads.

Birand ignored the flare and kept counting air. “Everything else doesn’t look tradeable.”

“So we can’t talk?” Edlyn’s mockery cut like sleet.

“No. I still have a thing; not sure you’ll be interested.” Birand’s smile was a thin crescent.

“Say it.” Eli’s voice was steady, like a blade laid flat.

“My other half—do you want the fragment missing from your memory?”

Eli’s eyes narrowed, a hawk studying a glint. “?”

“What happened before I—or we—came to this world. You seek a perfect soul, don’t you? This should do.”

Surprise rang through Eli like a bell. He glanced down and met Edlyn’s eyes; their hands wove together, her small fingers tightening, her smile a secret lantern.

He looked at Liqianyu; she shrugged, then gave him a bright, cheering grin.

Eli nodded—then a spike of pain bit his waist. He looked down.

His Demonic Lord puffed her cheeks like a little drum; one hand held him firm, the other pinched a piece of his waist and twisted, wicked as a corkscrew.

He dipped and kissed her, a quick theft of attention, then lifted his gaze back to Birand.

“Agreed.”

Birand snorted a laugh, like a cork popping. “Pleasure doing business. Honestly, I envy you.”

“Heh.”

In a church guest room, the air smelled of old wood and candle smoke.

Edlyn watched the pale-blue glow in Eli’s hands, soul-power shimmering like moonlight caught in a bowl.

“Relax. I’m not fusing it—just going in to look. It won’t touch me.” Eli’s smile was warm as spring; he ruffled her hair like a breeze through willow.

Edlyn pushed his hand away, her voice firm as hammered iron. “No. I don’t trust that man.”

“Alright, alright. With you here, I’m at ease.” Heat filled Eli’s chest like rising tea steam; he drew her into his arms, her stubborn look made him laugh softly.

“Fine.”

…

“Luxiao! Get up—ball time!” A booming voice cracked through chalk-dusted air and pried the boy’s head off his desk.

The boy rubbed his eyes, lifting his head. “Wang Hao, you wanna die? Why shout so loud? I just fell asleep.”

“Sleep my ass, get hyped! PE’s next. Ball now! Everyone’s waiting, and you’re hiding here napping.” A taller boy in a jersey jogged in, both hands landing heavy on the lazy one’s shoulders like friendly anvils.

Eli’s brow creased; dissonance thudded like a wrong note. His last memory before this world was his twenties—why middle school now?

Confusion first, acceptance second; he let the current carry him. “Whatever. Follow the memory.”

He rubbed his eyes again and nodded at his friend. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

For now, he wasn’t called Eli.

“Pass!” Wang Hao yelled at Luxiao, who was spacing out like a statue under sun.

“Oh—oh.” Luxiao snapped back and flicked the ball to a teammate waving like a flag.

During the break, Wang Hao strolled over, grin loose as shoelaces. “What’s up with you? Zoning out all day. Got a girlfriend?”

“Get lost, idiot.” Luxiao laughed, the word warm as broth.

“Serious. What’s with you today?” Wang Hao set the ball down and sat on it, grinning like a cat in a patch of sun.

“Nothing. Just tired.” Luxiao shook his head, fatigue a veil over his eyes.

“Huh? Luxiao, what’s wrong?” Another boy wiped sweat, brought over a clutch of drinks that clinked like little bells.

“Yeah? What’s up? Too much jerking last night?” A boy behind him joked, laughter sharp as soda fizz.

Another walked up behind and patted their shoulders, half-sage, half-clown. “Young men need restraint.”

“Scram, you bunch of clowns.” Luxiao chuckled, a strange warmth rising like dawn.

“Come on, say it—what’s up?” The boy squeezed between Wang Hao and Luxiao, dropping down like a wedge.

“Li Chengming.” Luxiao stared, dazed, at his friend, as if seeing a photo come alive.

“Yeah. So?” They all leaned in, faces crowding like petals around a core.

Luxiao looked over each face, nostalgia soft as old paper. “Wang Hao, Lin Kaiyan, Li Chengming, Zhou Ruihan.”

“You possessed or something? What’s with you today?” Zhou Ruihan popped a cola, took a long pull that sang like bubbles. “Want me to find a doctor?”

“No… I just feel like… I had a dream. A long, long dream.” Luxiao rubbed his temples, ache pulsing like a drumbeat.

“Forget it. Let’s skip today. Let Class Three make their own team.” Wang Hao hesitated, watching Luxiao’s far-off look like fog over water.

Luxiao shook his head and smiled. “I’m fine. Come on, brothers. Watch big bro’s skills.”

“Tch! Crap. You got no skills.”