I stood outside the Excellia gate wearing sust a plain jacket, dark shirt, and jeans that blended into the afternoon crowd.
Students came and went in small groups, laughing, complaining, living their normal lives.
I tugged at my sleeve and checked my watch.
Exactly 1:00 PM.
Right on time.
I lifted my head slightly and spoke to the air beside me.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," a calm voice replied.
I nodded, even though no one was visibly there, then raised my hand and flagged down a cab pulling up along the curb.
The driver slowed, glanced at me, and stopped.
I opened the rear door and slid inside.
The front passenger door opened a second later.
By itself.
The seat belt snapped into place.
The driver froze.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he stared at the front seat, eyes darting between the empty space and the rearview mirror.
"Muridae Demesne casino," I said, keeping my voice steady.
The driver jumped.
He flinched hard enough that the car rocked slightly.
"S-Sure," he muttered, then hesitated. "Who… who else is with you?"
"My future accomplice," I simply answered.
The driver swallowed and started the engine.
As we pulled away from Excellia, I leaned back and exhaled slowly.
I knew I was getting used to this kind of thing.
That did not mean it ever stopped being uncomfortable.
A few seconds passed in silence before I spoke again.
"Is something wrong?"
The driver glanced at me through the mirror, then at the empty front seat with a floating seat belt. Then back on the road.
He sighed.
"This is why I hate picking up Excellia students," he said. "You're all monsters."
I let out a small breath through my nose.
"That bad, huh?"
"You act like it's normal," he replied. "Doors opening on their own. Voices where there shouldn't be voices. Like the rest of us are the weird ones for being scared."
I shrugged slightly. "We get used to it."
"I don't get paid enough for this shit," he muttered.
The rest of the ride passed quietly.
After a few minutes, Cwal spoke.
"If you fail to uphold your promise," he said casually, "you will be killed."
I stared out the window.
"Good to know."
"You are calm," he observed.
"I have no choice," I replied.
"Also, I didn't tell anyone about this. No classmates. No teachers. No family. There won't be a trace."
"That was wise."
"But," I continued, turning my head slightly toward the front seat, "if you touch anyone from Excellia, or anyone related to me.
"I will kill you instead."
The cab hit a bump.
The driver whimpered quietly and focused even harder on the road.
For a moment, Cwal said nothing.
Then he laughed.
Not loud and mocking.
Just amused.
"There you go."
I frowned. "What, you think I won't do it?" I asked, forcing confidence into my voice.
Cwal did not look at me.
"Your real self," he replied calmly. "It is starting to peel off."
I let out a quiet breath through my nose.
"Well," I muttered, "I guess it's better for a guy like you to be interested in me than not."
After a while, the cab slowed and turned into a private road. The buildings thinned out, replaced by tall steel fencing and discreet surveillance poles.
Ahead of us stood a massive structure that looked like it belonged in a financial district rather than this part of the city.
The building was enormous.
Polished black stone walls. Gold-trimmed windows. Neon signs advertising luxury games, private lounges, and elite membership.
From the outside, it screamed money, indulgence, and greed.
I looked up at it and already knew.
This was Roy's den.
On the surface, Muridae Demesne was a casino.
A place for the nobles and reckless peasants to burn credits and pretend luck was skill.
Underneath, it was something else entirely.
A broker hub.
Information, contracts, assassinations disguised as chance encounters, and unfortunate accidents. If someone wanted a person erased or a secret unearthed, this was where they came.
The cab stopped.
I stepped out, my eyes following Cwal as he moved ahead without hesitation.
At the entrance stood a guard in a tailored suit, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. Cwal flicked a coin toward him without slowing.
The guard caught it smoothly, smiled, and nodded. "Thank you for the tip."
He raised a monocle and inspected the coin carefully. His expression shifted almost imperceptibly before he straightened.
"This way, sir."
We were escorted past the casino floor, through a side corridor that blended seamlessly into the architecture.
The hallway led us to a private elevator.
Inside, the escort tapped a sequence on the control panel.
A hidden menu appeared.
Instead of going up, the elevator began to descend.
The doors closed silently.
The escort glanced at me. "Is the gentleman with you your assigned partner for this month's assassination?"
Cwal answered without hesitation. "No."
Then, after a brief pause, "But he might as well be."
The escort nodded, unfazed. "Should I notify Lord Roy of your arrival?"
"No," Cwal said. "I am just checking on something."
The elevator continued downward, deeper than any public floor should go.
When it finally stopped, the doors slid open to a wide underground hall bathed in soft white lighting.
As we stepped out, the escort bowed slightly and spoke with ceremonial calm.
"May everything sleep in your pale touch, Snow White."
The moment the words left his mouth, the air changed.
Cwal's bloodlust surged.
It was sharp, heavy, and physically suffocating.
My chest tightened like invisible pressure was pushing in from all sides. I had to focus just to keep my breathing steady and stop myself from shaking.
The escort did not flinch.
He had clearly said those words before and was used to Cwal's outburst.
Cwal stepped forward without a word.
I followed silently. Even I knew better than to speak now; he was clearly in a foul mood.
We moved deeper into the facility. The casino atmosphere was gone. The walls here were sterile, reinforced, lined with sealed doors and subtle medical interfaces. Personnel passed us without meeting our eyes.
Eventually, we stopped in front of a door marked with a symbol.
An apple wrapped by a white snake.
I recognized it instantly.
Snow White's mark.
The door slid open.
Inside was a rehabilitation chamber that looked more like a private sanctuary than a medical room.
Soft green lighting filtered down from artificial panels overhead. Plants grew along the walls, real ones that were obviously carefully maintained.
The air smelled clean, faintly floral.
At the center of the room stood a bed encased in a transparent glass shell. Tubes and cables connected discreetly to its base. Monitors displayed steady vitals in quiet pulses of light.
Cwal approached the glass.
He placed his hand against it and pressed a concealed button.
"Time to wake up for a bit, Mom," he murmured.
The glass retracted with a soft hiss. A thin mist escaped into the room.
The woman inside stirred slowly.
She had the same hair color as Cwal, but lighter. Where his was pale blue, hers was nearly white, still carrying that unmistakable tint that marked their relation. Her crimson eye opened sluggishly, unfocused at first.
She was beautiful.
Even though she was thin, almost frail, with signs of long-term exhaustion etched into her frame, it did nothing to diminish her beauty.
If anything, it made it more striking.
There was a quiet elegance to her.
She was, without exaggeration, the most beautiful woman I had seen in either world.
The only person who came close was Éclair.
But the comparison stopped there.
Éclair's beauty was aggressive. It pulled eyes toward her whether she wanted it to or not. Her proportions were outrageous in a way that felt deliberate and almost engineered.
This woman was the opposite.
There was nothing provocative about her at all. Just a softness that made the room feel quieter the longer you looked at her, as if even the air was careful not to disturb her.
Her presence was calm, gentle, and almost unreal.
Cwal pulled a blanket from inside his storage and carefully draped it over her shoulders.
"Good morning, Mom," he said quietly. "How are you feeling?"
She smiled with strain. "Better than ever."
He helped her sit up, then guided her carefully out of the bed.
His eyes flicked toward me.
"This is my mother," he said. "Mary Solace. I don't know where you got your information, but I'll even lick the devil's boot if I have to."
She looked at me with mild caution.
"Who is it this time, Dong?" she asked softly.
"I'm fine, you know. You really don't have to keep finding people to cure me."
Cwal stiffened.
"I said I would," he replied.
Her smile wavered. "I don't need it anymore. I'm tired of this. I just want you to live normally."
Their voices rose slightly.
Emotion slipping through cracks neither of them wanted to admit.
"I'm doing this for both of us," Cwal said.
"And I am not asking you to!" she replied, her voice trembling. "Please, just stop."
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"I'm fine," she whispered. "I don't need help anymore."
Her knees buckled.
Cwal caught her instantly.
He lifted her carefully and laid her back onto the bed, his movements precise but rushed.
She had already lost consciousness.
He pressed a button.
The glass enclosure slid back into place, sealing her inside. A faint, colorless gas filled the chamber. Her breathing steadied.
Cwal stepped back.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Ever since the experiments, she's become stubborn. She refuses help."
I moved closer to the glass.
Fog had begun to form along its surface. I wiped it away and looked at her face.
A tear lingered at the corner of her eye.
I thought of my own mother. Of how she smiled even when things were falling apart. Of how she never cried in front of me, even when she should have.
"It's not stubbornness, that's just how mothers work," I said softly.
"She just doesn't want you to worry."
Cwal looked down at her.
"Is that so?"
I nodded. "Yeah. After all, a mother never cries for herself."
I turned back to face him.