Chapter 112 - A True Veteran

  For several long, stretched-out seconds, absolute silence fell upon the barracks. Every single person—without exception—was frozen in place, their bodies stiff, their eyes wide, their mouths slightly open in a collective display of pure disbelief. It was a moment of complete and utter paralysis, as if the sheer absurdity of what Takeshi had just said had short-circuited the brains of everyone present.

  No one reacted. No one even breathed. The revelation had hit them all at once, sinking into their minds in slow, agonizing realization.

  Yet, in the background, completely unaware of the sheer absurdity unfolding around him, Gideon continued speaking with fervent passion, his booming voice filling the air like a grand sermon in a cathedral. His eyes behind his helmet glowed with conviction as he gestured animatedly, explaining the divine will of Arianka, the sacred trial bestowed upon the chosen saints, and how destiny had brought them together for this most holy of missions.

  He spoke with the kind of unshakable enthusiasm, his words flowed seamlessly, grand declarations about glory, duty, and righteousness, but not a single person in the room was paying attention to him.

  The tension in the room thickened, pressing down on both groups as their stunned expressions remained locked in place. It was as if time itself had momentarily stopped, leaving them in a bizarre state of suspended animation. No one moved. No one even blinked. They simply stood there, processing the insanity of what had just been said.

  Then, finally, the first person to break the frozen moment was one of the men sitting at the table. He was massive, an imposing figure of impressive age and build, his bronzed skin marred with the faint scars of past battles. His thick, gray-streaked hair was pulled into a long braid, and a heavy, well-groomed beard covered most of his weathered yet powerful face. He wore an outfit that, at first glance, could have been mistaken for Roman attire—a fitted, sleeveless tunic of deep crimson, fastened at the waist by a wide leather belt adorned with golden studs. Draped over his broad shoulders was a heavy, regal cape, its deep red fabric clasped at the front with a large, circular brooch bearing an unknown insignia.

  The moment he stood up, a ripple of immediate reactions followed.

  The entirety of Adam’s team instinctively tensed, their bodies moving on reflex as they shifted into defensive positions. Even those who typically held themselves with careful calculation, like Li, had their hands half-raised in preparation. His fingers twitched, ready to summon his spellbook, its pages already flickering at the edges of existence as if sensing his intent. Katya had half-summoned a Tulpa, the dark, spectral form of a scythe beginning to materialize in the air beside her, the edges of its blade crackling with a faint, eerie glow. The tension in their bodies was instinctual, unplanned, as if every single one of them had already assumed this was about to turn into a fight.

  But the reactions were not one-sided.

  The opposing team reacted just as quickly, every single one of them—save for one—immediately rising from their seats, their hands hovering near whatever they had hidden, eyes narrowing as they took a ready stance. The once-casual gathering had transformed instantly, the air between them growing dangerously charged, like the split-second before a lightning strike.

  However, among the opposing group, there was one individual who had not moved and had remained utterly frozen in place. He was completely different from the others, his entire demeanor standing out not because of confidence, but because of sheer, unfiltered terror. He was thin, pale, and wore a black formal suit, looking far more like an office worker than someone who belonged in a war camp. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched the arms of his chair, his face void of color, his body rigid as though hoping if he remained completely still, the danger would somehow pass him by.

  And then, before the situation could escalate further, before any weapons could be fully drawn, the blonde girl moved. Without any hesitation, without a moment of doubt, she spun on her heel, her entire posture shifting into something commanding, unshakable, absolute. And then, she shouted.

  "Enough!"

  Her voice cut through the air like a blade, a sharp, almost primal roar that shook the room with such force that even the wooden beams of the barracks seemed to tremble in response. It was not simply a yell—it was a command, an order so undeniable that it stopped everyone in their tracks before they even realized they had obeyed.

  Adam’s team, though still wary, halted immediately, the half-summoned weapons and spells dissipating before they could be fully formed. On the other side, her own team reacted even faster, their tension collapsing in an instant as if an invisible weight had dropped onto their shoulders. The massive man, the one who had first risen, eased back, the tension in his body shifting into something closer to respect as he settled a step behind her. Even the trembling man in the suit let out an audible exhale, as if he had just barely avoided death.

  But the most absurd part of all? Gideon still had not noticed any of this.

  The entire standoff, the commanding shout, the fact that two groups had nearly torn into each other within seconds—none of it registered with him. His expression was still alight with fervent enthusiasm, his booming voice still explaining the divine will of the goddess, completely unaware that nobody was listening to him anymore.

  But Adam wasn’t amused. There was nothing remotely funny about what had just happened. The tension in the air was still thick, hanging over them like a blade that had been momentarily stalled but not sheathed. His entire body was still on high alert, every instinct honed from previous battles telling him that just because weapons hadn’t been drawn didn’t mean the situation was safe.

  The sheer pressure of two teams nearly clashing hadn’t faded—it had simply been interrupted, held in place by the undeniable command of the blonde girl who had taken control of the situation.

  Then, before that delicate moment of calm could slip away, the blonde girl moved again.

  She turned, her piercing gaze settling directly onto Adam’s. There was no hesitation in her stare, no uncertainty—only careful observation, as if she were trying to weigh him, measure him, determine exactly what kind of person she was dealing with.

  Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small notebook, flipping through it with practiced ease. Her eyes flicked over the pages rapidly, scanning for something, though whatever was written inside was too small for Adam to see from where he stood.

  A few seconds later, she clicked her tongue lightly and slipped the notebook back into her pocket, then straightened her posture. Her right hand moved to her chest, pressing lightly against her collarbone in a gesture of greeting, formal yet not stiff.

  "Angela Rose."

  She introduced herself, her voice clear and steady.

  "Leader of the team—"

  She hesitated… For a brief second, her confidence wavered, her expression shifting as if she had just remembered something unpleasant. A faint flush of embarrassment crept onto her face, her lips pressing together in frustration as she clearly debated something internally. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something she wanted to say aloud.

  After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh, correcting herself in a way that felt both reluctant and resigned.

  "Leader of Team WNATN."

  She said, her tone carrying an edge of forced acceptance. The name meant nothing to Adam at first—until she continued speaking, her words coming a bit too quickly, as if to move past the subject as fast as possible.

  "It stands for We Need A Team Name…"

  She admitted, her voice quieter now, tinged with the kind of secondhand embarrassment that made it clear she hated saying it aloud. For the briefest moment, Adam almost—almost—felt a flicker of sympathy.

  She clearly hadn’t been the one to come up with it.

  But before that thought could linger, Angela quickly pushed forward, regaining her earlier composure. Her gaze flickered toward Takeshi, who was standing among Adam’s group, arms crossed loosely and looking—if anything—far too comfortable given the situation. She took a moment to assess him, eyes narrowing slightly as if checking for something.

  Then, after a few seconds, her shoulders relaxed just a fraction.

  "I see you have Takeshi with you. And he’s…”

  She noted, tilting her head slightly. Her brows furrowed briefly, her lips parting slightly as she studied his expression, searching for any sign of coercion, any trace of manipulation. But there was nothing.

  "...He’s fine."

  Angela muttered under her breath, almost as if she hadn't fully expected to reach that conclusion. Her sharp gaze flickered between Takeshi and the group surrounding him, scanning him once more as if searching for some hidden injury, some telltale sign that he had been forced into obedience. But there was nothing. No visible wounds, no tension in his stance, and no hesitant movements.

  If anything, the white-haired ninja stood with an almost too-casual air, his weight shifted lazily to one side, arms crossed in a way that made it seem as though he had been part of Adam’s group all along rather than someone who had been captured only recently. The longer Angela looked at him, the more her expression tensed, her brows pressing together in something between disbelief and confusion.

  "Not just fine, he looks completely unharmed. Actually, he looks…"

  She corrected herself, her tone growing more certain, though that certainty seemed to bother her. She even hesitated, her head tilting slightly as her eyes narrowed, taking in every small detail—the relaxed posture, the lack of any visible distress, the way he wasn’t even attempting to subtly signal for help. Her frown deepened, her lips pressing into a thin line as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

  "…like he’s having fun?"

  She finally muttered. Takeshi, who had been doing his absolute best to look as non-threatening as possible, let out an awkward chuckle, his hand moving to rub the back of his head.

  "Eheh… yeah, about that…"

  His voice trailed off, his tone carrying the unmistakable hesitance of someone trying to figure out the least dangerous way to explain a situation that had gotten way out of hand.

  At that moment, Adam finally allowed himself to glance toward the system window that had been hovering in front of her from the moment they arrived. The moment his gaze flickered toward the illuminated screen, his mind snapped into analysis mode, every instinct sharpening in preparation to learn exactly who exactly that woman was.

  Adam’s eyes flickered toward the system window, his breath catching for just a fraction of a second. The moment he saw it, an immediate wave of unease settled in his chest—the words "Certain Death" stood prominently under the danger level assigned to Angela Rose. His body tensed, his instincts reacting before his rational mind could catch up.

  But then, something changed. The marking wasn’t static. He blinked, scanning the screen again, and this time his breath eased slightly. The "Certain Death" label had been crossed out, replaced with a much less intimidating "Low" ranking instead. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, his mind working through the implications—she was weaker than before. A closer look at the additional information revealed the reason: her most powerful skill was currently unavailable.

  It was a relief, but not a comforting one. Even weakened, she was still here, still standing confidently, still commanding a presence strong enough to stop an entire fight with a single word. Whatever power she had lost, it didn’t make her safe—only less immediately fatal.

  For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how much information to reveal. But in the end, there was no avoiding it. He took a breath and spoke.

  "Adam Scholar."

  He said evenly, his tone firm but not aggressive.

  "Acting representative of…"

  He stopped, glancing at Kazue from the corner of his eye and immediately regretting it. The moment he even considered saying their team’s name, he could feel her glare drilling into the back of his skull, burning with silent fury. His mind scrambled for an alternative, for something less humiliating, but nothing came. There was no escaping it, so he exhaled sharply.

  "...acting representative of Team ‘No Name’."

  The sheer weight of Kazue’s disappointment was physically painful. He could feel her staring at him like he had just betrayed everything she stood for, but there was no way to change it now. The name had already been spoken.

  Angela didn’t seem particularly interested in their unfortunate team name. She simply nodded slightly, acknowledging his introduction with the same level of formality. There was no submission in her posture, no unnecessary pleasantries—just a direct, composed response.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Adam noted the mutual restraint between them. Neither of them were hostile, but neither were they particularly trusting. Their words were carefully chosen, their tones measured. It was clear that while neither side had an immediate reason to fight, there was also no blind goodwill between them.

  "You're the first team, then."

  Adam said, watching her reaction carefully. Angela nodded once, her expression calm but attentive.

  "And you must be the second."

  There was a brief pause before she continued, a flicker of something lighter in her voice.

  "I have to admit, I’m grateful we’re talking like this. As you know, normally, the moment two teams meet in this situation, it wouldn’t be a conversation. We’d already be fighting."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Something about the way she said it—so matter-of-fact, so certain—made it sound like she was assuming he already knew what she meant. But Adam didn’t react immediately. He processed her words, reading between the lines.

  Before he could say anything, however, Takeshi stepped forward.

  "Yeah, uh—no."

  Takeshi interrupted casually, shrugging as he adjusted his mask.

  "They’re not like that. They’re mostly newbies."

  Angela’s entire demeanor shifted instantly. She blinked once, her head tilting slightly as though she hadn’t heard him correctly. Then, in the next second, her brows lifted, and her lips parted slightly, the faintest breath of genuine surprise slipping past them.

  "…Novices?"

  She repeated, her tone filled with something closer to disbelief than anything else. Takeshi, ever the instigator, nodded with a smirk.

  "Yeah, kinda crazy, right? A bunch of fresh faces, but already at this level. Fun, huh?"

  Angela didn’t answer. Instead, she whipped her head around abruptly, her sharp gaze cutting through the space like a blade.

  "Dayana!"

  She called, her voice rising. Immediately, a girl sitting further back at the table stirred, turning toward the group with lazy familiarity. She was young—much younger than the others—with light brown hair tied into a high ponytail and a school-uniform-style outfit that looked far too casual for the setting. Her plaid skirt swayed slightly as she shifted in her seat, her legs crossed as if she had been idly waiting for something interesting to happen.

  But it wasn’t her clothes that stood out, it was her eyes.

  The moment Adam’s gaze settled on her, he felt something strange—something unnatural. Her wide-open irises glowed with a shifting kaleidoscope of blue hues, swirling and refracting light in a way that human eyes were never meant to. They were almost hypnotic and inhuman, as if peering into them meant being drawn into something beyond simple vision.

  And then, a new system window appeared, but this time, it was only for Adam.

  Adam’s breath hitched. His body reacted before his mind did, his instincts screaming at him as his feet shifted backward, his muscles tensing as though trying to pull himself out of her sight. But before he could say anything, before he could even begin to question what was happening, Dayana finally spoke.

  Her lips curled slightly into a small, almost amused smile.

  "Angela! That girl over there!"

  She said, her voice carrying an eerie certainty. She didn’t raise a hand, didn’t make any dramatic movements—she simply tilted her head ever so slightly in the direction of Adam’s team.

  And then she dropped the bombshell.

  "She’s from Team Abyss!"

  The weight of her words slammed into the air like a physical force.

  Adam felt his heartbeat spike. He had no idea what that meant. He didn’t even know who she was pointing at yet. But from the way Angela’s face darkened immediately, from the way the atmosphere around them shifted violently, he knew one thing for certain.

  That name meant trouble. Adam’s mind immediately went on high alert. This was bad. He didn’t need to wait for anyone’s reaction to know that. Team Abyss was not a name to be taken lightly. He had context—his entire team knew why Katya had once been a part of it—but the others didn’t.

  To most, Team Abyss wasn’t just another competitor in this twisted system. Their general reputation was that of cold-blooded murderers that no one could even negotiate with because their sole purpose in the system was to kill other users, unlike teams that choose to do so, they were basically forced to kill to progress. It was the kind of name that, once uttered, immediately turned conversations into battles. If Angela and her team knew about such characteristics—if they assumed that Katya being here meant she was still part of them—this was about to get ugly.

  Adam barely had time to think before his Spectronomicón responded on its own, materializing just slightly, its ghostly, grinning skull peeking out from between the folds of his coat. The necrotic energy coiled at his fingertips, ready to lash out the second things escalated. His body was already moving on instinct, his mind calculating the best escape routes, the fastest skills, the most efficient ways to neutralize threats.

  But before he could do anything, Angela spoke first. And it wasn’t what he expected.

  Her eyes locked onto Katya. Her expression—while tense—wasn’t filled with rage or immediate hostility. Instead, there was something else in her gaze. Something closer to anticipation.

  "Do you know Jeongu Kim?"

  Angela asked, her voice firm but carrying a hint of hope, as though the answer to this question was something she truly wanted to hear.

  The reaction was immediate. Not from Katya—but from Angela herself. Her entire demeanor shifted as she asked, her features tightening in an almost unconscious reaction. Adam immediately noticed the subtle changes—the slight tension in her fingers, the way her stance straightened, the way her breath hitched for just a second before she finished speaking. Whatever this name meant to her, it wasn’t just a passing curiosity.

  But Katya’s response was as blunt as it could possibly be.

  "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

  She said without hesitation. The words hit Angela like a physical blow.

  For just a second, Adam saw something break in her expression. It wasn’t dramatic—not a gasp, not a visible flinch—but it was there. A small but undeniable flicker of disappointment, like someone who had just seen a small light of hope snuffed out before it could even burn properly.

  But she wasn’t done. Angela wasn’t the type to give up so easily.

  She took in a breath, straightened herself, and continued, her voice more urgent now.

  "What about Daniel Sung? Elias Varga? Elena Zoric?"

  She listed several more names, her tone growing slightly more frustrated with each one. Each name was given with expectation, as if she fully believed one of them had to register with Katya.

  But Katya’s answer remained the same.

  "No."

  "No."

  "Never heard of them."

  Angela’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to give up entirely. But then—

  "Benjamin."

  Katya blinked. A pause. A small shift. A crack in the pattern.

  "…Old man Benjamin Montalvo?"

  Katya finally said, her brows furrowing slightly.

  "He’s basically the team’s tailor."

  The change in Angela’s face was immediate and absolute. Her entire posture relaxed instantly, as if a massive weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. The rigid tension that had held her in place melted in a single breath, her serious expression shifting into something warmer, more familiar, something that looked so different from how she had presented herself until now.

  A small laugh escaped her lips—relieved, almost amused.

  "You should’ve said so earlier."

  She muttered, shaking her head lightly.

  "If someone like Benjamin is still around after all this time, then that means Team Abyss hasn’t changed much, has it? What a relief."

  She let out a long exhale, almost like someone who had just confirmed an old friend was still alive. And then, without any hesitation, she dropped herself into the nearest chair with zero grace, her body completely unwinding as if all the stress had left her at once. The confident, composed leader from moments ago? Gone. In her place was someone who had just decided nothing was worth stressing over anymore.

  Adam stared. The way she had just thrown herself into the seat, the utter lack of dignity, the way she was now sitting with her legs stretched out slightly and arms lazily resting at her sides—for some reason, it reminded him way too much of Kazue.

  Angela, for her part, was already done with the conversation. Her tone had completely shifted, now casual, even carefree, as if all of the tension from before had never even existed.

  "Anyway, I have no clue how a member of Team Abyss ended up rolling with you guys, but it’s not a problem. We’ve got a pretty good history with them… or at least we did with their old leader."

  She muttered, waving a hand vaguely in the air. She stretched slightly, sighing as she leaned back further in the chair.

  "Haven’t heard from them in years, though. Guess some things changed."

  Adam kept his face neutral, but his mind was far from calm. This wasn’t what he expected... At all.

  Everything about Team Abyss’s reputation had painted them as villains, a faction that should’ve been treated with hostility the moment they were recognized. And yet Angela didn’t care at all. If anything, she seemed genuinely relieved to confirm their connection.

  But that wasn’t the part that stood out the most. Adam’s thoughts narrowed on one specific word, “Years”.

  That single detail set off alarms in his head, so he didn’t hesitate. He had to confirm it immediately.

  "Years?"

  He repeated, his voice sharper than before, the weight behind his words making it clear that this wasn’t just casual conversation anymore.

  "You said you haven’t heard from them in years? … Are you saying you’ve been part of the system for years?"

  He took a step forward, his eyes locking onto hers. Angela blinked and let out a small, almost choked laugh, as if the question was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

  "Of course, I’ve been in this for four years now."

  She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table as she looked at him with curiosity.

  "Why? Don’t tell me you haven’t?"

  Adam didn’t answer immediately, he didn’t have to, because before he could even respond, Angela had already turned toward Dayana, who had been watching the exchange in silence, her eerie blue kaleidoscope eyes flickering with some unknown depth.

  "Alright, what’s the verdict?"

  Angela asked casually, as if confirming a simple report. Dayana didn’t hesitate.

  "Aside from her and the man with the straw hat, the rest of them are between their fourth and second scenario."

  She said, nodding toward Katya and then toward Li, causing absolute silence for a couple more seconds, except for Gideon who, for some reason, kept talking to himself.

  Then, a loud, unified reaction from the rest of Angela’s team.

  "What?!"

  Angela, mid-drink, choked immediately, nearly spilling water all over herself as her own shock hit her like a brick. She coughed, barely managing to clear her throat as she whipped her head back toward Dayana.

  "Are you serious?!"

  She exclaimed, her voice caught between disbelief and frustration. Dayana merely nodded with a shrug. And just like that, everything had completely shifted once again.

  Adam stood still, his mind running in circles, trying to grasp why exactly they were the ones being treated as an anomaly. It was clear that Angela’s team was completely floored by the revelation of their scenario count, but he still didn’t fully understand why. Sure, he had been thrown into this twisted system only a short while ago, but what did that mean in the grand scheme of things? Four years. Angela had been here for four years. The sheer weight of that realization settled deep in his chest.

  How long had they been in this nightmare? A couple of months at best? Even that was a stretch, considering how time felt like it warped between scenarios. The days blended together in a haze of survival, combat, strategy, and constant movement. But years? The idea that people like Angela and her team had spent four whole years trapped in this world, grinding through scenarios, surviving against all odds… it wasn’t just impressive. It was terrifying, and worse—it was demoralizing.

  Katya spoke up before anyone else. She crossed her arms and let out a sharp exhale, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had already known the truth for a long time.

  "See? This is normal. I told you—you’re an anomaly."

  She said, glancing at the rest of the group. Adam’s team exchanged glances, the words settling over them like an unspoken truth they had been avoiding. Even Kazue, who often tried to push past unnecessary complications, hesitated before speaking.

  "I don’t really get everything that’s happening, but… something tells me we can trust them."

  The girl admitted, tilting her head slightly, her long brown hair swaying as she shifted her stance. She nodded toward Angela’s team, her usual carefree expression carrying an uncharacteristic seriousness.

  "I don’t know why. But I just feel like we can."

  Chloe let out a small hum, resting a hand on her hip as she glanced at Emir, who nodded in agreement.

  "If you feel that way, I think I do too."

  Chloe said with a small smile. Emir followed with a simple agreement.

  "Same here."

  While Sebastian, ever the quiet observer, merely gave a knowing nod, Katya let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes.

  "Well, if Kazue thinks they’re fine, then I guess I have no choice, do I?"

  Her tone was dry, but there was no real resistance in her voice. Gregor, however, remained unconvinced. His arms remained crossed over his chest, his military posture unyielding, his dark eyes scanning Angela’s team with lingering skepticism.

  "I don’t like trusting people so easily, but I’m not rejecting the idea outright."

  He muttered, his voice deep and firm. Li, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of it.

  "No, trust is a luxury we can’t afford."

  He said flatly, shaking his head. His expression was unreadable, but his tone was uncompromising. Even so, despite the tension, there was something about this moment—this strange interaction between teams, this careful exchange of unspoken agreements—that made it clear that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t going to end in hostility.

  As Angela’s team finally settled down, their earlier shock beginning to fade, Angela leaned back against the chair and stretched, cracking her neck slightly before exhaling.

  "Well, it looks like we’ve got a lot to talk about."

  She said, but before she could continue, however, Gideon’s voice boomed through the barracks once again—still caught up in his own world, still delivering what was likely his hundredth speech on the will of the goddess. The absurdity of it was starting to become physically painful.

  Drake, who had remained patient for far longer than Adam had expected, finally snapped.

  "Sir Gideon, focus."

  Drake said, his voice carrying a firm authority, cutting through the paladin’s monologue like a blade. Gideon blinked, his sermon abruptly stopping, as if he had just been pulled out of a deep trance. He turned toward them, his expression far too cheerful for someone who had just been interrupted mid-speech.

  "Ah, yes! My apologies, young saint! What is it you need of me?"

  Drake sighed, glancing at both Adam and Angela before looking back at the paladin.

  "We need you to clarify something."

  He said.

  "Angela, Adam, and I will be the ones handling the mission given by the goddess. The rest of our teams will remain in the city. They’ll catch up with us later."

  There was a deliberate pause before he added the final part. The wording was important. If Gideon thought they were staying behind indefinitely, he wouldn’t question it.

  The paladin nodded enthusiastically, completely missing the underlying meaning.

  "Ah, excellent! The will of the goddess shines upon you all!"

  He gestured toward one of the city’s main exits, his radiant expression practically glowing.

  "Very well, I shall lead you to the northern gates! From there, you will travel northwest! Several vampire colonies reside beyond the border—perfect places to begin your holy quest!"

  Adam’s stomach twisted slightly at the way he said "holy quest", however Gideon continued, his voice booming with excitement.

  "At a normal pace, it should take roughly a week on foot to reach the outer settlements!"

  A week? Adam felt his soul leave his body for a moment. Angela and Drake visibly twitched.

  "A week?"

  Angela repeated flatly. Drake pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply before exhaling in the slowest display of patience Adam had ever seen.

  Gideon, entirely oblivious to their despair, simply smiled.

  "Yes! A fine new pilgrimage for those blessed by the goddess!"

  Sadly there was no choice but to move forward, so once the preparations were completed, once goodbyes were exchanged, and once their teams had settled in the city with the promise to follow later, Adam, Angela, and Drake finally began their journey. The city slowly faded behind them, the towering golden rooftops disappearing into the horizon as the vast, unknown wilds of the world ahead stretched endlessly before them.

  And it was then—once they were out of sight of the city, once the air of divinity began to lessen—that Angela finally returned to the real discussion at hand.

  "Alright, we’ve got a lot to talk about. But first…"

  She said, her tone shifting entirely from its previous casual nature. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced between the two of them. She let her voice drop just slightly, her expression turning serious.

  "Did you two notice how strange all of this is?"

  There was no hesitation in their response. Adam and Drake both nodded.

  Angela sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

  "I knew it wasn’t just me, something about this whole thing doesn’t sit right. I was actually planning to head toward one of the vampire city-states to dig for more information."

  Adam perked up slightly at that, exchanging a glance with Drake.

  "That actually works out, I have a title that might help us with that."

  Angela stopped walking for a moment, her head turned toward him, eyes wide with visible disbelief.

  "A title? …"

  She repeated, as if making sure she had heard correctly.

  "You have a title related to that, and you’re only on your fourth scenario?"

  Adam nodded and Angela exhaled slowly.

  Then she ran a hand through her short blonde hair, shaking her head.

  "What the hell have you been doing to progress that fast?"

  Adam didn’t answer immediately.

  Because the truth was, that even he wasn’t entirely sure, as far as he was concerned, they were just doing their best to survive.