Midnight.
The city slept, but not every heart was at rest.
In the stillness, something stirred—a whisper of breath, a ripple of movement beneath the moonlight.
"So, you're hiding here again?"
The voice was low, rasping with amusement.
The strange ghost stood at the edge of the forest, a strand of pink hair caught between his fingers. His sharp, pale eyes gleamed faintly in the dark as he lifted his head toward the massive form before him—the ancient savage beast known as the Black Tortoise, now lying dormant.
He had followed the scent all the way here. The trace was faint but unmistakable.
His tracking ability was absolute. Defectors could flee for days, weave illusions, lay traps, even fake their deaths—but he always found them in the end.
And yet, those two girls...
They were not ordinary fugitives.
Everything they had learned from Shengyang City—their tactics, their misdirection, their ability to exploit weaknesses even in monsters like him—had been used flawlessly.
