The slap that never landed had stolen something from the room: authority. From that moment on, no matter how many guards stood at her side, no matter how sharp her tongue or ornate her uniform, she was no longer the one in control.
Shaun broke the silence first.
"Let me guess," he said, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Now you're going to say we assaulted an officer."
The enforcer's lips parted, but nothing came out. For the first time, her fury was smothered by hesitation. The boy in front of her did something which she had never expected she has broken her quite a bit by this action she is furious, still trying to calm herself.
I was just wanted to help them out so they can just get out of this mess with their head attached, but it looks like the simply do not want it these kind do not understand how cruel the Nobel society is
Seeker: "Ooh, I like this one. Want me to dig a little?"
Shaun: "I'd rather dig my own grave, thanks."
Seeker: "Suit yourself. She is a regressor a girl forced to hide as a boy. she's got all the symptoms. Regressor, fake identity, probably a hidden vendetta. You know, the usual."
Shaun: "So basically everyone I meet in this cursed world."
Shaun turned his attention back to Isaac, taking him in again—her, now, if Seeker was to be believed. The regressor thing, Another cheat of fate tossed into this madhouse of a world. that came with layers. Risk, advantages. And secrets.
"So," Shaun said, voice low and curious, "you got any more surprises hidden under that serious face of yours, or was wrist-snapping step one of your self-introduction?"
Isaac gave him a sidelong glance. In her mind, she just thought it would be for best to not get close to Shaun in any way
"I'll take that as a yes," Shaun said
The enforcer stepped back, regathering herself. Her pride bruised, not her wrist. Not yet.
"This is beyond my pay grade now," she snapped. "You're both being held for further questioning. The city magistrate will handle this mess. Until then—neither of you is to leave this building. Guards—escort them to separate holding cells. I want a full report compiled and submitted within the hour."
The guards hesitated, then moved.
Isaac didn't resist. Shaun rolled his eyes and stood, stretching like he'd just been inconvenienced by a long nap.
both of them thrown in the cell
The cell door slammed shut with the weight of finality. The guards grunted something vague and shuffled off, their boots fading into echo.
Two breaths.
Then silence.
Shaun slouched on the cold bench like a man who couldn't be bothered to care whether it was stone or velvet beneath him. Legs sprawled, arms folded, chin tucked like he might fall asleep in a dungeon and call it a vacation.
Isaac stood stiff in the far corner, hands clasped behind her back, posture rigid as steel. The flicker of the torchlight cast jagged shadows across her face—but it couldn't hide the disbelief eating her alive.
She looked at him. The boy across from her looked like Shaun. He sounded like Shaun. But this wasn't him.
Not the boy she remembered. Not the boy she's left bleeding in the rain. That Shaun was gentle. Soft-spoken. An awkward dork who smiled too much and apologized even when it wasn't his fault. He once gave her his coat in a snowstorm and said it wasn't cold—even though he shivered all night.
And she spat in his face.
She told herself it was survival. That he was weak. Disposable. A stepping stone for a better life.
But all the hands she grabbed after him? They dragged her straight to hell.
"…Why did you fight that noble?"
Shaun didn't open his eyes. His voice came out flat. Bone dry. "Dunno. I was minding my business, a bitch started barking at me, and her lapdog thought playing knight would win him points."
He shrugged lazily. "Got annoyed. Broke something. That's all."
Irine swallowed hard.
That wasn't how he spoke. Not her Shaun. He wouldn't even raise his voice, let alone a fist. This version… she barely recognized.
But even through the layers, some part of her felt it. The same person. Different evolution.
He'd changed.
"…And why are you here?" he asked suddenly, finally cracking an eyelid open.
She flinched like someone pulled a thread from her ribcage. "I arrested that noble. For causing public nuisance."
Shaun let out a long, exaggerated yawn. "Cool. Very cool. You want a medal?"
She grit her teeth. "Just answering the question."
Shaun gave her a sidelong glance. "You always talk this much to strangers in cages, or am I just special?"
Irine hesitated, voice quieter now. "So what are you doing in this city? You're not from here, right?"
Shaun clicked his tongue, unimpressed. "I'm not. But I'm also not obligated to explain my reasons for being anywhere."
That tone—it was like ice water in her lungs.
"…Why are you talking like that?"
Shaun turned his head fully now, a brow raised. "Talking like what? This is what I talk like. Sorry if it doesn't come with a fruit basket."
That cut her. Not because it was cruel. But because he didn't even flinch while doing it.
She pushed through it. "That slap… from the lieutenant. Did it hurt?"
Shaun stretched his arms above his head, bones cracking. "Nah. I've had worse. Empire class system's a joke if that's what counts as lieutenant-level."
He said it like he was talking about the weather.
"…Are you a fighter or a magician?" she asked, carefully now.
"In the middle."
That froze her.
In her past life, he didn't know how to fight. He didn't even awaken until the academy. His magic was weak. His skills were worse. He was the boy they all humiliated—dragged around like a joke.
And now? This Shaun sat like a predator in a cage made for mice.
"…What do you use?" she asked, cautiously.
Shaun smiled, slow and condescending. "And why would I tell you that?"
"I'm just curious," she said, lying through her teeth. "You seem… pretty strong."
"Thanks for the comment. Means a dime to me."
Irine bit her lip. "I'm the son of a high-ranking knight. I could recommend you. Get you a real position. Work. Pay. Something useful."
She wasn't lying about that. Not entirely. It was just an excuse. An excuse to keep him close. Protect him. Make up for something.
Shaun's laughter was quiet and venom-laced. "Oh, wow. What a generous offer. Truly. Let me drop to my knees and weep gratitude."
He leaned forward just a little, voice dripping like spoiled wine. "Listen, noble boy. Licking boots might be your family's favorite sport, but me? I'm allergic to leashes."
Irine opened her mouth. Closed it again.
What the hell happened to him?
This wasn't bitterness. This was detachment sharpened into an art form. The Shaun she knew didn't know how to lie, let alone manipulate. He bled sincerity.
Now?
This one could smile while stabbing your soul.
Shaun rested his head back against the wall, watching her with unreadable eyes.
"…You look like you've seen a ghost," he said softly.
"I…" She trailed off. "…You remind me of someone."
He stared at her.
Something flickered in his gaze.
And then it was gone.
"Well," he said, eyes closing, "unlucky for them."
Silence again.
But not the peaceful kind.
Irine hadn't stopped glancing at him. Like she needed to memorize the angles of his face. Make sure they were still real. she just wanted to confirm if the one in front of her is her shaun, shaun she knew or someone else
She spoke again. Quietly. "Do you have… family in the city?"
Shaun's lip curled. "Do I look like someone who has family?"
"…No," she admitted. "But I still asked."
He cracked one eye open. "You nobles love poking around where you're not wanted."
"I'm just asking."
"No," he said, flat. "I don't."
A pause.
"My father walked off when I was a kid. Mom packed her spine and left chasing a richer bastard. No tearful goodbyes. No inheritance. Just debt. And the vague hope that I'd quietly stop existing."
He said it with the same tone someone might use to describe the weather.
"I see," Irine said, voice hoarse. "I'm… sorry."
the story is same as she remembered she at that time laughed at him because it made her feel better that someone exist who have a worse fate than her
Shaun's eyes sharpened. "why are you saying sorry?"
"I'm just trying to be polite," she lied.
Shaun hummed. "Polite. Is that what they teach you in knight school now? After breaking wrists and challenging authority?"
"I did what I thought was right."
"Ah." He smiled. "The noble creed."
She clenched her hands. "You act like doing the right thing is weakness."
"No," he said, voice suddenly sharp. "Doing the right thing is stupid. Doing the smart thing is what keeps you alive."
He leaned forward slightly, tone like razors wrapped in silk. "Tell me, noble son—how many 'right things' have you done that paid off? How many times have you stuck your neck out only to watch it put on someone else's chopping block?"
Her mouth opened. Then shut.
"Exactly," he said. "You're not noble. You're naive."
Irine flinched.
Not like this. Not like this. He's not supposed to talk like this. he was the nicest and most rightious guy he could never utter something like this
"You've changed," she said softly.
Shaun cocked his head. "You keep saying that. you dont even know me, i dont know you what are you saying"
"I didn't—"
"You didn't say it out loud, sure. But I can see it in your face. You look at me like I've betrayed some version of myself you thought existed."
Irine bit her lip hard. Blood welled faintly.
"I… knew someone like you once," she said.
Shaun raised a brow. "Lucky bastard."
"He was—" Her voice cracked. "He was kind. A little too trusting. He was poor, and weak, and everyone hated him."
"Sounds like a catch."
"But he never gave up," she whispered. "Even when he should have. He just kept smiling through it. Like a fool."
Shaun stared at her.
A pause.
"I hope he died," he said calmly.
Irine blinked.
"I hope someone put him out of his misery," Shaun continued, voice devoid of empathy. "Because that kind of person doesn't last. He either broke, or rotted, or got used up and thrown away."
Irine couldn't speak. Her throat was closing. Her chest tightening.
Shaun tilted his head again, as if inspecting a riddle.
"You knew someone like me," he repeated. "Well, I've got bad news for you."
He leaned in just slightly, just enough for her to see the glint behind his eyes.
"I'm not him."