The night was open.
Unnaturally open.
Iren sensed it even before stepping outside.
Because tonight, the city was empty.
For days now, an announcement had been in effect—
no one was allowed outside after 11 p.m.
Violation meant punishment.
Resistance meant something worse.
This law wasn't created to stop crime.
It was created to separate criminals.
Iren didn't know that.
And even if he had, he wouldn't have stopped.
The night was his time.
He was walking—when the air stopped.
The lights didn't turn on around him.
Instead, it felt as if the light withdrew.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then—pressure. Presence.
"Spread out."
The voice was low. Trained.
"Confirmed curfew violator."
Iren stopped.
He didn't run.
Because running would mean admission.
"After 11 p.m.," another voice said,
"why are you outside?"
Iren slowly lifted his head.
In the darkness, his eyes glowed—not black, but deep.
"I didn't call anyone," he said.
His voice carried no age.
A moment of silence.
Then a heavy voice—
"We didn't come to arrest you."
A pause.
"We came to verify."
The first strike came from the right.
The second from above.
Iren moved before they landed.
The ground cracked.
A metal baton bent.
"Contact!" someone shouted.
He wasn't hitting anyone.
He was breaking things.
A Level 4 cultivator stepped forward.
An energy layer covered his body.
Iren looked at him.
One second.
Then he stepped inside that layer—
as if he knew the rule.
There was no punch.
Only pressure.
The man was thrown back.
"Impossible," someone said.
"He's alone—"
The sentence didn't finish.
Another attack from behind.
Level 5.
A blade made of energy.
Iren's shoulder was cut.
Blood spilled—black.
He made no sound.
At a distance stood the commanding general.
He couldn't see the face.
The darkness was too dense.
But he could see—
the height,
the shoulder structure,
the movement.
This was supposed to be a curfew violator.
But—
this was a predator.
"This isn't an ordinary human," the general whispered.
"It's… a child."
And in that instant, Iren retreated.
He slipped into a veil of smoke—
and was gone.
Sound.
Pressure.
All over.
The next morning, the file was updated.
Night Collector was struck out.
A new name was added—
Child of Devil
The report stated:
"During a curfew breach, an underage entity
engaged Level 4 and Level 5 units alone
and successfully escaped."
The general added personally:
"He is not prey.
He is not breaking rules.
He exists outside them."
Far from the city.
Iren lay at a street corner.
He couldn't walk.
Black blood had pooled.
Ten minutes passed.
A man approached.
Ordinary.
Afraid.
"A kid…?" he whispered.
He reached out.
Touched him.
Iren's body convulsed.
While unconscious—
something inside him opened.
The soul rose from the man's body.
It ended before a scream could form.
Iren breathed.
Deeply.
The black blood faded.
Bones realigned.
The man collapsed—empty.
Iren sat up.
He remembered nothing.
He only knew—
the night was not over yet.