Kairie didn't hesitate.
She carried herself with the ease of someone deeply humble yet undeniably powerful—someone who knew her position, her influence, and her responsibility, and bore all of it with quiet grace.
After greeting the S-Class hunters with that serene, gentle smile…
She stepped forward.
Directly toward Eli.
Every pair of eyes followed her like magnets snapping to steel.
Some widened.
Some narrowed.
Some flickered with confusion, envy, or plain disbelief.
And Eli?
Eli turned into a statue.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
If someone poked him, he'd probably topple like a stiff cardboard cutout.
Kairie stopped right in front of him, close enough that he could smell a faint scent of something clean—snow, mint, a touch of white lotus.
Cold but comforting.
Soft but steady.
"Eli," she said gently, her voice like warm tea poured into a cold cup. "If you don't mind… may I speak with you for a moment?"
