After testing his strength, Nova moved on to the next device—one designed to evaluate both Dexterity and Speed. While the results didn't come as much of a surprise, they were still gratifying: he scored an F++ in both categories.

It was no secret that Nova's Dexterity and Speed far outclassed his Strength. From the very beginning, he had prioritized those two stats, driven by a particular line of thinking: if an enemy was too powerful to defeat head-on, the best strategy was to retreat and return later. And if the enemy was too slow to keep up, he could gradually wear them down, winning through persistence and patience.

The following day, while Nova continued his training, Alaric, Jack, and Thomas were en route to the meeting point—an isolated location shared with them by one of Sophia's subordinates.

"How many people do you think she brought this time?" Thomas asked casually, his tone light despite the situation.

The three had decided to leave the others behind—while strong, they simply weren't on the same level of strength as them. After a week-long debate, Alaric, Jack, and Thomas had finally convinced their friends to stay at the warehouse and oversee operations there. The risk of them becoming hostages at the meeting was too great to ignore.

"I'm not sure," Jack replied. "But I'd bet there's more than one. And if I'm wrong, and she really came alone…then that means she's really confident and we'd better run as soon as possible. "

Jack then turned to Thomas, eyeing him with mock suspicion before glancing at Alaric. "Remind me again—why did we bring him with us? I thought you were the one who was friends with him but the first thing you did was bringing him to a fight."

Scratching his head, Thomas glanced at Alaric for support, only to receive a calm, unreadable look—as if to say, "He asked you, not me." With a sigh of resignation, Thomas said, "Look," his expression turning serious. "He might not look like it, but he's actually pretty strong."

Alaric's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through.

"Oh? Is that so?" Jack shifted his gaze to Alaric, eyeing him for a moment before nodding. "As long as you understand the risks of tagging along, I've got no complaints. Still, this mess is ours to clean up—and since you're stepping in to help, I'll do my best to watch your back."

By the end, Jack offered a smile and patted Alaric's shoulder.

"Thank you. I'll do my best," Alaric replied, returning the smile.

Satisfied, Thomas slung his arms around Alaric and Jack's shoulders, laughing. "Don't be so tense. Let's grab something to eat after this."

Jack nodded with a helpless smile, already used to Thomas's antics, while Alaric let out a quiet, defeated sigh.

Before long, the trio arrived at an abandoned seven-story building on the outskirts of Altura. The structure loomed over them, worn down by time and neglect.

Thomas eyed the building with a frown. "Why the hell are we meeting in a dump like this? Last time it was a damn villa."

"It's strange," Jack muttered, scanning their surroundings. The area was eerily empty. "Either they're trying to be as discreet as possible… or they don't want us leaving here at all. From this point on, stay alert."

The mood shifted instantly. Their eyes sharpened, instincts kicking in. As they pushed open the entrance doors, a long, grating creak echoed through the silence. One step at a time, they made their way inside.

///////////

The sound—though not loud—echoed like a drumbeat through the silence, reverberating off the hollow walls of the abandoned building. It traveled upward, eventually reaching the ears of two figures seated on worn, slightly broken chairs.

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Ren, dressed in a black yukata, his long black hair tied neatly into a ponytail, slowly opened his eyes. His voice was calm, almost detached.

"They're here."

Beside him, Colin, a young man in blue silk pajamas rose to his feet, a smile creeping across his face. "Get them to lower their guard," he said, his tone laced with malice. "I'll handle the rest."

With deliberate slowness, he drew a pair of daggers—one short, one long—from within his loose sleeves. Without another word, he slipped away into the shadows, his footsteps making no sound.

Ren reached down and picked up the sheathed katana beside him. Rising to his feet, he turned toward the entrance, his expression ice-cold, each step was unhurried.

/////////////

"Where do we go now?" Thomas asked, glancing around.

Before them stretched a wide, open main area. A staircase rose ahead, while rows of doors lined both sides of the ground floor.

Jack scanned the room, eyes sharp for any sign or clue—but found nothing. After a brief pause, he spoke. "Let's head up. There's nothing here worth checking."

Thomas and Alaric exchanged a quick nod, then the three began ascending the stairs, their footsteps echoing faintly in the silence. They arrived on the first floor, only to be met with more emptiness.

"Still nothing?" Alaric asked, his voice low.

Though he had come primarily to report back to Nova—and had been instructed by Thomas to keep that detail from Jack—he still wanted to contribute. Even if he was meant to observe, standing idle while the others were in danger didn't sit well with him.

Just as Thomas and Jack were about to shake their heads in disappointment, the sound of footsteps echoed from above—descending from the second floor.

All three immediately turned toward the staircase.

There, emerging into view, was a man in a black yukata, descending slowly with a katana in hand. Ren.

Uncertain of the man's identity, Thomas stepped forward and called out, "Are you one of Sophia's subordinates?"

Ren froze mid-step, eyes widening in surprise.

Sophia?

The name hit him like a slap. He hadn't expected that—not even close. The one who'd informed him about these people was Hannah, and she'd never once mentioned Sophia.

So how, of all things, was the very first name out of their mouths that woman's?

His grip on the katana tightened slightly, thoughts racing as he slightly lowered his head.

Meanwhile, Alaric, Jack, and Thomas stood silently, watching him closely. Ever since Thomas had mentioned Sophia's name, the man had yet to respond—his silence growing more telling with each passing second.

Leaning slightly toward the others, Thomas whispered, "Did I say something wrong?"

Alaric and Jack exchanged a glance, then both shook their heads.

"I don't think so," Jack replied after a moment. "But if I'm right… it looks like this guy didn't know we'd met Sophia."

Alaric nodded thoughtfully. "Which means they might not be as united as we assumed. Either they're keeping things from each other, or they just don't talk much. There's also a chance something happened to Sophia."

Thomas frowned, clearly impatient. "So, what's the plan now?"

"We wait," Jack whispered. "If he starts talking then do not interrupt him. The more he says, the more we'll learn about his allies."

Minutes passed in tense silence. Then, something shifted in Ren's expression—an understanding, sudden and sharp, followed closely by a flicker of anger.

"That bitch is using me to kill these people," he muttered under his breath, so quietly that only he could hear it. "Just you wait."

Forcing the emotion down, he composed himself. Then, raising his voice, he asked coldly, "Tell me—why did you think I was that b—" he caught himself, "—Sophia's subordinate?"

"Why should I tell you?" Jack scoffed. "If you really want answers, go ask your friend."

Ren's eyebrows knit together, then relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Don't forget—I only need one of you alive to get what I want. Will you talk now, or wait until you're the last one standing?" His grip on the katana tightened even more, eyes hardening into icy slits.

Thomas sneered, stepping forward. "Why the hell are you talking so much? Aren't you here to kill us? Do you honestly think we'd believe you'd just let us walk away if we spill what we know about Sophia?" His gaze was pure contempt, like he was sizing up a fool.

Jack glanced sideways at Alaric and asked quietly, "Ready?"

Alaric gave a firm nod, his eyes locked onto Ren.

"I gave you a chance—and you didn't take it," Ren said slowly, slowly unsheathing his katana. He flung the empty sheath aside.

In an instant, Alaric, Jack, and Thomas drew their weapons, each slipping into battle stances, muscles tensed and ready.

Both hands gripped the katana, a thin layer of fog now rising from the blade. Ren lowered his body, eyes narrowing. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Do not..."

With a sudden, explosive surge, he lunged forward, katana slicing through the air leaving a pale blue streak on its wake.

"…regret it."

A hand shot up in the air before falling down with a soft, final thud. Blood spattered the ground in a delicate pitter-patter.

Then, Thomas screamed.

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