Rosaline, as always, got straight to business. “I heard about what happened today,” she said, eyes cold and assessing. “But there are some details I need you to clarify.” Axel got the feeling he was being interrogated.

  “That girl said you killed a dying first-grade upper-grade awakener. And that during the rescue, you went toe-to-toe with another awakener for ten minutes.”

  She leaned forward slightly. “What level was he?”

  Axel answered casually, “Just entered second-grade.”

  The room stilled. Vincent and Kaia stopped their side conversation, their eyes snapping toward Axel.

  Rosaline’s sharp gaze narrowed. Axel held out for ten minutes against a second-grade combat awakener? No way.

  Vince and Rosaline had already agreed beforehand that Axel needed to reach second-grade before he could officially represent Obsidian in the upcoming selection. No exceptions.

  So was this kid bullshitting them?

  Rosaline crossed her arms. “And what about you? What’s your current level?”

  Axel didn’t hesitate. “First-grade, mid-tier.” That answer alone made things worse.

  Rosaline’s expression darkened. “You’re telling me that a first-grade, mid-tier awakener managed to go head-to-head with a second-grade fighter for ten minutes?”

  Even Vince looked doubtful now. A higher grade wasn’t just a small power jump—it was a goddamn wall.

  “…He was injured before,” Axel added.

  No one looked convinced. Fighting across levels wasn’t normal. Unless it was an assassination, or the awakener had a specialized skill that could break through defenses, a first-grade fighter had no business standing up to a second-grade one. Especially not in a direct fight.

  Rosaline’s arms stayed crossed. “And?”

  Axel scratched the back of his head. “Well… my Force is pretty high.”

  “How high?”

  He hesitated for a split second before answering. “…Close to three hundred.”

  The reaction was instant. Vincent and Kaia, who had been joking seconds ago, whipped around to face him.

  “What?!”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  Even Rosaline—who barely reacted to anything—visibly tensed. A first-grade mid-tier awakener with a Force of 300?!

  Vince’s gaze sharpened. That wasn’t just rare.That was freakish. Someone who just entered second-grade would normally have a Force of 300.

  For the elite prodigies of the Four Great War Schools, maybe 400 at best.

  But a first-grade fighter hitting 300? That didn’t happen. That wasn’t supposed to happen. If Axel wasn’t full of shit, then he wasn’t just talented—he was a fucking monster.

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  “Show me.” Rosaline’s voice was sharp now, serious. “Release your Force fluctuations.”

  Vince, who had quietly given up hope before, suddenly found himself reconsidering. Maybe… just maybe… This wasn’t a lost cause after all.

  Axel, completely unaware of the impact his words had just made, simply nodded. “Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. And then—he let it out.

  The moment Axel unleashed his Force, the air in the room shifted. A wave of raw energy pulsed outward, rippling through the space like a shockwave. No holding back. Not now. Axel let it all out.

  Cassia, sitting closest to him, gasped—her breathing instantly strained under the pressure.

  Vince noticed and gave a slight wave of his hand, shielding her from the brunt of the Force.

  All eyes were on Axel. The Force signature was legit. They could all feel it. There was no mistaking it—he hadn’t been exaggerating.

  Vincent and Kaia exchanged a glance, their expressions depressed. Knives and forks clattered against the table as they put their utensils down, both feeling an uncomfortable realization settling in.

  All those who were selected into Whisper Syndicate were geniuses among geniuses. Of cause, they was the best of the best—top-tier geniuses in their own cities.

  And yet… Neither of them had been anywhere near Axel’s level when they were first-grade mid-tier.

  Vincent exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Why does the food suddenly taste like shit?” he muttered.

  Kaia, ever the instigator, smirked and twirled her chopsticks between her fingers. “At this rate, you’ll be back to janitor duty in a few years.”

  Vincent groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  Rosaline said nothing. Vince knew her well enough—she hadn’t actually planned on letting Axel take the trial. But now… Now, she wasn’t so sure.

  Because if Axel could reach third-grade… fourth… or higher, whether it was his Undead Guide, a high-risk sequence awakening talent, or his super high Force, he would be a powerful weapon in team.

  Halfway through the meal, Vincent and Kaia started talking about trying some local beer, but Rosaline suddenly stood up and left the room without a word.

  Vince hesitated for a beat before following her.

  Outside, the crisp autumn air of Dune sent a cool breeze through the hotel’s entrance.

  Rosaline was leaning against a marble pillar, one foot propped up against it. The slit in her skirt revealed long, pale legs beneath the dim streetlights. A cigarette dangled between her fingers. Not the slim, stylish kind that most women smoked. The rough kind. The kind that only hardened bastards smoked.

  Vince walked up and casually plucked it from her fingers before she could take another drag.

  “Cut back,” he said. “It’s bad for you.”

  Rosaline gave him a **side-eye glance**. “And you have too many opinions.”

  Vince snuffed the cigarette under his heel. She scoffed. “You won again. Go ahead, gloat.”

  He smirked, leaning against the opposite pillar—but in a more upright stance, his posture always annoyingly **clean-cut** compared to hers.

  “Rosaline,” he said, voice softer now. “You know that’s not why I followed you.”

  Vince had always been effortlessly good-looking. One of those guys who could turn heads without trying. He was already past thirty, a few years older than her.

  She exhaled, gaze unfocused. “Don’t bullshit me, Vince.”

  “You were surprised in there,” she continued, her voice low. “Don’t deny it—I saw it in your face.”

  Vince chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not denying it.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t think he’d progress this fast, did you?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. It wasn’t just Axel’s Force level that caught him off guard. It was Rosaline’s reaction. The fact that she even cared enough to walk out like this meant something. And Vince knew what was really on her mind. It was Axel’s raw potential that made her hesitate.

  Her mind flickered back to the security monitor. Axel’s hands, drenched in blood. His eyes—cold, empty, and sharp. His precise, calculated brutality.

  She frowned slightly. “That kid… don’t you think he’s a little too dark?”

  Vince knew exactly what she meant. Axel wasn’t just ruthless—he was methodical about it. From the way he manipulated Orion and Griffin into fighting to the death… To the way he killed in that prison cell without hesitation…

  That wasn’t normal. Even among the Syndicate, that wasn’t normal.

  Vince exhaled slowly. His mind drifted back to his first visit to Axel’s apartment. A cramped, shitty little place in the slums. A little girl, his only family, smiling because they finally had a new home.

  “In the slums,” he murmured, “a kid raises a little girl, alone… survives long enough to make it here… and you expect him to be soft?”

  Rosaline didn’t reply. She had read his background, too.

  Vince pushed off the pillar, stretching lazily. “It’ll be fine. Once he’s in the team, he’ll adjust. He just never had anyone he could trust before.”