Another evening, aea session.

  Fraein arrived with his trusty tea trolley—because solving world problems was best done over a hot beverage—and pced the cup on the side table for Raizel.

  Raizel g the tea and casually remarked, "It seems not just humans are insecure."

  Fraein, already sipping his own tea, nodded. "It seems so. And I'm curious about their results, Master."

  Raizel took a slow sip, giving Fraein a side gnce.

  "Another madman," he thought.

  Setting down the file, he suggested, "So, shall we pay them a visit?"

  But Fraein immediately shut that idea down.

  "It's better if we don't."

  Raizel raised an eyebrow. Now, that was iing.

  "Why?"

  Fraein, clearly trying to tread carefully, expined, "Ever since Master left Lukedonia, world much has ged. Lukedonia isoted itself from the world. The same goes for werewolves, but irely. At least they kept their presence hidden from humans. Basically, the world is now ruled by humans. Still…"

  Raizel tilted his head slightly.

  "Still?"

  Fraein sighed, setting his teacup down.

  "Union, a secret society, has a strong influence worldwide. If I'm not mistaken, they're ected to the people I once worked with. And if I'm really not mistaken, Antigen might fall uhem."

  Raizel gave it some thought.

  He sidered this. He already knew most of it—maybe even more than Fraein did. But the fact that Antigen was tied to the Union? Iing, but not surprising.

  After all, anyone who read the manhwa already knew what Union's real motive was.

  So, he asked the only relevant question:

  "Does that bother you?"

  Not for him, anyway.

  Fraein sighed again—the sigh of a man who had seen too mud yet k was about to get worse.

  "It does," he admitted. "Moreover, Master is supposed to be dead. If they learn of your existe's bad. Maybe not just Union will target us."

  But Raizel cut him off halfway.

  "It doesn't me, Fraein. Maybe the world has ged, but that doesn't ge who I am."

  Fraein blinked. Owice. Then sighed again, this time in resignation.

  "Yes, Master."

  And then—because Raizel never just left things there—he added something that made Fraein visibly tense.

  "And Union… must be destroyed."

  Fraein said nothing.

  Raizel took another sip of tea.

  "Make arras."

  A pause.

  "Yes, Master," Fraein replied, as if they were discussing dinner pns.

  A brief moment passed before Raizel casually asked, "How's the weather tomorrow?"

  Fraein, unfazed by the shift in versation, answered without hesitation.

  "Heavy storm, Master."

  ------------

  James had put in the effort.

  Finding Bel's old address? Done.

  Breaking into the house and digging through her stuff? A delightful afternoon activity.

  Using a home video of her mom's voice to lure her to an old ballet studio for a dramatic vilin moment? Chef's kiss.

  And now?

  Now, he got to enjoy the fear in her eyes as she stepped cautiously into the dimly lit studio.

  Bel's breathing was uneven, her hands ched into fists as she sed the room, searg for her mother. James leaned against the mirror, watg with amusement as her gaze locked onto the TV pying the pre-recorded voice. Her panic deepened, and he relished it.

  Walking forward, he let his fingers brush against his own refle in the mirrrinning. Damn, I look good.

  With a dark chuckle, he muttered, "That's my favorite part."

  He expected silence. Maybe a shaky breath from Bel.

  Instead—

  A voiot Bel's, answered casually,

  "But mine hasn't even begu."

  …

  James froze.

  His entire lunatic brai, Wait. What?

  Bel turoo, startled, her wide eyes darting to the far end of the room.

  James spun around—and there he was.

  A stranger.

  Just standing there.

  Silent. Unbothered. Looking at him like he was the trespasser here.

  Bel took a sharp step back, fusion and tension knotting her expression. "Who—?"

  James, baring his teeth, snarled first, "Who are you?"

  The stranger—no, Raizel, because of course, this guy had a name and an infuriatingly calm face—smiled, like James had just asked him something stupid.

  "A stranger?" he echoed, tilting his head ever so slightly.

  James didn't hesitate. He lunged, hand outstretched to grab this smug little—

  And suddenly, he wasn't lunging.

  He was floating.

  Corre.

  He was being held up in the air, pletely immobilized.

  Bel gasped, stumbling back, her eyes dartiween James, who was midair, and Raizel, who hadn't even moved.

  Raizel's voice was quiet. Cold.

  "Filth," he murmured, "shouldn't y a hand on me."

  Then, with the flick of an invisible force, James was hurled across the room.

  He smmed into the opposite wall with a ch, colpsing onto the wooden floor.

  Bel flinched but didn't move, her breath caught ihroat as she watched James groan and scramble to his feet.

  James did not hesitate.

  He ran.

  As fast as he could.

  Because whatever the hell that thing was, it wasn't normal.

  Bel, still frozen in shock, turo Raizel, her voice finally finding her. "…Who are you?"

  Raizel ignored her, his eyes zily following James' retreat.

  James sprinted into the night, but somethi off.

  The st.

  Raizel's st.

  It lingered, like a predator marking its prey.

  And then, realizatio in.

  He was looping.

  Same alley. Same path.

  Over. And over. And over.

  Bel stepped toward the entrance, frowning. "Why is he—?"

  But before she could finish, James' frantic footsteps suddenly stopped.

  A voiside his head this time—whispered, "Too bad. You're not good at running."

  James stumbled. His mind screamed at him to keep going, but his body refused.

  And theurned—

  And he was back.

  Back where he started.

  Ba front of Raizel.

  And Bel.

  Raizel, pletely unfazed, adjusted an imaginary cuff on his sleeve like this was all so tiresome.

  Bel, still rec from the whipsh of events, stared between them. "What... just happened?"

  James' brain, meanwhile, finally caught up.

  Oh.

  Oh no.