Many in the crowd turned toward the source of the voice, only to find that it had come from the singer still standing on the stage. The spell she had cast moments ago shattered almost instantly. A few people sneered openly.

"A singer?" one man scoffed, all trace of earlier fascination wiped from his face. "What would you know about this? Where's your boss? He's the one who should be talking."

It was a cruel reaction, but an expected one. To people like them, a singer, no matter how captivating, was still just entertainment. If not for the almost addictive, euphoric quality of her voice, rumored to rival even chemical stimulants, she would not have received even this much attention. She might have been the Serenity Hotel's star attraction, but in the eyes of these power brokers, she was still part of the scenery rather than someone worth taking seriously.

The singer heard the slight clearly. A flicker of cold anger passed through her eyes, vanishing so quickly it might have been imagined. She lowered herself into a graceful curtsy, every movement elegant and measured. "My apologies, esteemed guests. My words were presumptuous. However, the Serenity Hotel stands within the black market and is personally managed by Sir Henry. I merely ask that you grant him the courtesy due to the master of his own establishment." Her tone was gentle and respectful, yet Ethan's Soul Sense caught the sharp, dangerous glint hidden beneath her lowered lashes.

"This girl is not simple," Ethan murmured under his breath.

"Of course she isn't," Blackfin whispered back eagerly, eyes shining with undisguised infatuation. "That's Jenny, the premier songstress of the Serenity."

Ethan shot him a sideways look. Blackfin was forty-nine, while the singer appeared no older than nineteen. She could have passed for his daughter without effort. "Blackfin," Ethan said dryly, "don't tell me you're having a midlife crisis over a teenager."

"Whether she's a teenager is debatable," Voss interjected, his tone flat.

"Oh?" Ethan turned his attention to him.

"The first time I saw Miss Jenny was fifteen years ago," Voss said calmly. "She looked exactly the same then as she does now. Fifteen years have passed, I've aged, and she hasn't. I've long suspected she's some kind of ancient monster. Only a brainless fool like Blackfin would get lovesick over her." He shrugged, utterly unimpressed.

Ethan's interest sharpened. Interesting. Her earlier sonic attack had carried no killing intent, which was why he had countered with nothing more than a Grizzly Roar. Now, combined with this new information, her presence felt far more deliberate than it had seemed at first.

Before he could pursue the thought further, movement on the side staircase drew his attention. A man descended the grand, curved steps with unhurried confidence, and the moment he appeared, the room's focus shifted toward him.

"Henry," Blackfin muttered.

The man did not address the crowd immediately. His gaze went straight to the stage. Ethan, with his heightened perception, caught the tiniest of movements as Jenny gave a subtle nod of her chin, so slight it bordered on imperceptible. Without another word, she turned and slipped into the shadows backstage.

Only after receiving this silent confirmation did Henry turn to face the assembled guests, an affable smile already in place. That brief exchange, unnoticed by nearly everyone else, spoke volumes to Ethan. This Jenny was far more than a mere singer.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Henry began, his voice smooth and soothing, "tonight's excitement was the result of our hotel's oversight. We did not anticipate the arrival of such a formidable Soul-Wielder. Young sir, please accept our sincerest apologies." He inclined his head toward Ethan before continuing. "Jenny is a practitioner of sonic arts. Her performances are meant to elevate and cleanse the spirit. When she found you unaffected, her pride was pricked, leading her to conduct an ill-advised test. In doing so, she disturbed all of you and offended our guest."

He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "As compensation, all expenses tonight will be covered by the Serenity Hotel. However," he added, gesturing toward the shattered crystal chandelier and the glittering debris strewn across the floor, "the ambiance has regrettably been ruined. For everyone's safety and comfort, we must close early this evening. I trust you will understand."

It was masterful diplomacy. He accepted responsibility without truly diminishing his position, offered generous compensation, and delivered a polite yet unmistakable eviction notice in a single breath. This was clearly not his first time defusing a volatile situation.

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"Since Henry has spoken, we have no issue with the hotel," one voice called out. Then the speaker's gaze hardened as it fixed on Blackfin. "However, Blackfin, once he leaves your protection, he's fair game."

"Screw you!" Blackfin snapped, puffing out his chest. "You think I'm scared? Try it! Just see if my Big Boss allows it!" Halfway through his outburst, his tone shifted smoothly, dragging Ethan into the spotlight with the practiced ease of someone invoking an unbeatable older brother.

Ethan rolled his eyes so hard he nearly gave himself a headache. This guy. Blackfin was powerful enough to stand toe-to-toe with many of the people present, yet by invoking the 'Big Boss', he was deliberately painting Ethan as both shield and sword.

Before Ethan could deliver a suitably biting response, Blackie stepped forward.

"This needs the Boss?" Blackie scoffed, casually shoving Blackfin aside with one arm. "Little Black, you think I'm just here for decoration?"

He strode to the front, squaring off against the three elemental Mutants and the pale Saint-Germaim. "You three punks and that old fossil think you're impressive because you can play with a few elements? Let your granddaddy show you what real control looks like. Wind, fire, water, lightning. Unleash."

Boom.

Ethan sighed inwardly. Of course. He had been thinking moments earlier that he was surrounded by chaos magnets, conveniently forgetting that he himself was the largest one in the room. Now Blackie was adding fuel to the fire, and all Ethan could do was brace himself and watch the spectacle unfold.

A violent torrent of four elemental forces erupted from Blackie at once, interwoven into a single overwhelming surge. It was a dirty move. The three Mutants, following Henry's lead in de-escalating the situation, had already begun withdrawing their power. Caught mid-retraction, they were completely unprepared for the sudden assault.

The three were thrown backward in unison, stumbling several steps as they struggled to keep their footing. Each clutched at their chest as their faces drained of color.

Pfft. Pfft.

Two mouthfuls of blood spilled from each of them in quick succession, splattering onto the polished floor.

Blackie extinguished the elemental storm as quickly as he had summoned it. He turned back toward Blackfin with a broad, satisfied grin. "See? That's how it's done. Next time you've got a problem, you come to me, not the Big Boss. Got it?"

Blackfin could only stare at him, utterly stunned. He knew exactly who those three were: the rumored Bishop-tier Mutants under Saint-Germaim's command. And Blackie had made them cough up blood with nothing more than a casual flex of his power. Any lingering bravado evaporated on the spot. He nodded silently, all thoughts of argument long gone.

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