Dusk in Honolulu.
The setting sun cast abandoned buildings in deeper decay, overgrown with weeds. Silence reigned, broken only by faint chirps and birdcalls.
Inside one crumbling structure, 34 members of the Tutankhamun Society gathered. Exposed rebar framed the raw concrete space where they stood or sat.
Leader Raul slumped on the room’s sole broken sofa, hands clasped between his knees, gaze fixed on the empty balcony ahead.
Silence had thickened for minutes. Heavy. Oppressive.
“They’re not coming. Keith and the others must’ve fled alone. With those captured… these 34 are all that’s left.” Raul’s eyes swept the room. Faces varied—indifferent, anxious, defiant. “Anyone who ran? They’re dead to us now.”
The dam broke. Voices erupted where silence had been.
“What now, boss? Cops’ll be hunting us!”
“We can’t stay here. Gotta find a new hideout before they track us down.”
“Dream on. Trapped in Atlantis, we’re sitting ducks.”
“Then leave Atlantis? But we’ve got no cash. Life outside might be worse.”
“Let’s pull one big score. Then vanish from Atlantis. Perfect, yeah?”
“Hell yeah! One last job!”
“Outside Atlantis, we’d be free. Join a gang—real power with this magic.”
“But can we even escape?”
“Just surrender? Like hell!”
Excitement crackled. Crime. Cash. Escape. That was the plan now.
Raul watched their fervor with quiet contempt. He’d lost control. Rage boiled—not just at their lawlessness, but at his own naivety. *Should’ve never tangled with the Waste Law Society.* Regret was useless now. They needed the Mage Serum. Badly.
Only option: contact the Waste Law Society. Beg for a way out.
“Selling the leftover Mage Serum could fund our escape. No need for risky jobs.”
All eyes turned to the youth leaning against the wall.
Southka met their stares coldly. At 27, he was the oldest—and deputy leader. His gaunt, weathered face, cropped hair, and icy gray-blue eyes radiated calm. Unlike the others, he’d refused the Mage Serum.
His gaze settled on Raul. “How many doses left, boss?”
Raul glanced at the cardboard box before him. “Thirty-two.”
“Only thirty-two? Burning through them fast, aren’t we.” Southka’s tone dripped sarcasm. Raul and others scowled.
Southka ignored them. “Ever since the Waste Law Society showed up, we changed. We were just a crew of white kids having fun—never saints, but never criminals either. We lived simple lives. Yeah, being drifters sucked sometimes… but it was peaceful.” He paused, reading their faces. Most nodded. “Now? We’re thieves. Thugs. The serum made you reckless. Violent. You think becoming mages grants Atlantis citizenship? Fine. But you wanted more. You trusted the Waste Law Society’s ‘gifts’.” His voice hardened. “I didn’t. I knew they were poison. And I was right.”
“Calling the serum *drugs*?” sneered Mond. “Says the guy who’s still human. The serum made us mages! Gave us power! The Waste Law Society never forced us—they helped us. Good people. Selling the serum? Weak. We should *use* it. Rescue our captured brothers. Or are you abandoning them?” His grin twisted. Most cheered.
“You really think we can win? With thirty-two of us?” Southka’s doubt stung Mond. They’d clashed before—Southka’s fists had kept him in line. But now? Mond was a mage. Southka was nothing.
*Hmph.*
An invisible force slammed Southka into a rebar pillar.
“Shut your mouth, weakling,” Mond spat. “Power talks now. You don’t get a seat at this table.”
“Enough infighting!” Raul hauled Southka up. Southka’s words had cut deep—he saw their arrogance now, their drunken rush of power. Too late.
Southka winced but stood firm. *These fools will get us all killed.* His eyes flicked to the serum box.
“Yeah. Save the drama for later.”
A figure stepped from the stairwell into the sunset’s glow. Golden curls. Porcelain skin. A slender, breathtaking girl.
Amber light haloed her like stained glass. Her icy face seemed carved from marble.
“The Student Council’s Sherlock!” Mond recognized the golden hair instantly.
*Tutankhamun members tensed. Valhalla Academy’s Student Council?*
“Fools,” Sherlock’s voice cut the air. “Didn’t even notice my Magic Sealing Array.”
The array blocked external magic power within its radius.
No external magic? Fine. Mond hurled nearby bricks with Telekinesis Magic. Others attacked wildly. A storm of debris rained on Sherlock.
She didn’t flinch.
A translucent oval shield flared around her, deflecting every strike. She flicked her wrist.
A shockwave blasted all thirty-two members into the ceiling. They crashed down, groaning. Without magic power, mages were barely stronger than humans.
“No pointless resistance. You’ll only hurt yourselves.”
Sherlock smiled. Tutankhamun captured. Truant student Mond confirmed. *Perfect.* This finale belonged to her—not Yan Lingxuan.
---
*(Flashback: Noon)*
Sherlock’s WD buzzed with Yan Lingxuan’s call.
“You caught three Tutankhamun members. Learn anything useful?”
*He knew through Alice.* Anger flared.
“Maybe. But why should I tell you?”
“Fine. I’ll share what *I* know. They’ll rob shops this afternoon. Don’t worry—I’ve deployed teams to arrest them. You can sit this one out.”
*Sit this one out?* Sherlock’s blood boiled. He had more intel.
“I also know their hideout. Mond’s there. Join me for the arrest?”
That casual tone—like her help was optional. A Valhalla Academy star. A royal princess. *Disrespected.* She hadn’t felt this since childhood, when nobles whispered behind her back… before she crushed them all with sheer skill.
Humiliation ignited fierce resolve. *I will outshine him.*
She ended the call, then turned a razor smile on the three captives. No torture—just relentless pressure until they spilled everything: plans, hideouts, the Honolulu location.
Alone, she raced to the ruins.
---
Sherlock smirked at the thirty-two bound figures. *Just call the police now.*
Then—a ripple in the air. Magic power surged nearby. Her sealing array shattered.
“Well now~” A voice crooned from a derelict radio tower. Crimson robes fluttered around Daniel. Waste Law Society members stood behind him. His speech slid into smooth R&B cadence: “Looks like~ we gotta step in after all~ yo.”
*(Internally, the Waste Law Society tolerated ‘R&B Daniel’—but only when no outsiders were around.)*
"Now isn't... the time for us to appear... We'll see how far you can resist... But no matter how hard you fight... destruction is inevitable... After all, you're just fakes... I'd love to watch till the end... but the Valkyries will soon... take action... Staying here is too dangerous... We'll take our leave first..."
A Magic Array materialized beneath the crowd's feet. Their figures vanished one by one under its radiant glow. Once every member of the Waste Law Society had disappeared, the Magic Array ceased functioning and faded away.
The setting sun fully dipped below the horizon, and night descended at once. The Pacific sea wind howled past, roaring into a wild uproar.
