What… what was that? Was that real, Adam?!

Adam moved quickly through the gallery—not running exactly, since that would draw unwanted attention. He was, however, jogging as inconspicuously as he could.

"Mama! That person's about to go potty!"

"Ssh, Layquisha! What I tell you about pointing at people?!"

The people started pointing at him, but they didn't matter for now—his mind was racing as fast as his feet.

Ever since entering this museum, visions had been plaguing him left and right for whatever reason. First, that weird vision with the Administrator statue… and now the wax statue of the Duelist of Rose coming alive?

Was the halothane still having effects on him even after a week had passed?

"Dude, take a photo of me with the Bonbono!"

Adam ducked past a group of men taking photos with a monster, making sure not to stand out even as he weaved past every group there. He looked like any other guest there, except his eyes were scanning the exits instead of the displays.

He had already clocked and checked all the exits earlier; the only thing he needed to do now was choose the best one. He instinctively checked the reflections in some of the reflective materials he passed by, making sure he wasn't… being followed.

Get your head together, Adam. You're losing it. You are losing it!

He needed to leave here before some other vision manifested itself. Clear his thoughts somewhere safe… and then find a time to return—if he could return. The Hospital's reach was… tricky.

He lowered his head further, retracing his steps toward the entrance. But then, before he could leave the gallery of monsters—

"Excuse me."

He once again heard the voice of the Duelist of Rose.

"What…" Adam's steps faltered as he glanced up… that Sylvie was in fact blocking his path, her golden hair glistening from the lights of the museum.

She's… real.

Adam's eyes once again swept the room for an exit—but was there really an exit against someone like her?

"Wait, please…" Sylvie raised a finger to her lips, glancing at the other guests there as someone might start to recognize her. "...I'm not here to make trouble."

Adam stared at her for a moment, his muscles a little…. tense.

"Are you real?" he asked.

"Are you real?" she countered, stepping closer. "How are you still alive?"

And once again, as soon as Adam heard that, he searched for exits. Sylvie, however, subtly raised both her palms.

"I told you—I'm not here to make trouble."

Adam watched her carefully, scanning her from head to toe as if that could do something to make her go away. But of course, she truly wasn't going to.

"Please…" she whispered. "We can talk somewhere else. Somewhere more private."

"Hm…" Adam narrowed his eyes at her. He stared at her again for a moment before sighing and accepting his fate.

"I know a place," he said.

***

Around half an hour later, the two now sat on the floor across from each other in a dimly lit booth. The space felt a little cramped, but there was still a low table separating them.

Adam's hands were under the table, making sure he could flip it if anything happened, and hoping that it would buy him at least a few seconds to bolt.

As for Sylvie, she sat with a perfect posture, as expected of a fencing champion.

And finally, after what felt like na eternity of silence, Sylvie leaned forward slightly.

"How are you alive?" she asked again.

Adam met her stare without flinching at all. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He didn't stutter, and he didn't look away as he lied to her while looking her in the eyes, holding her gaze perfectly.

"Hmn…" Sylvie squinted, and then shook her head after a moment.

"There's no point lying to me."

"I'm not lying."

"I could smell you from thousands of miles away." Her voice lowered. "Your scent is… strong."

"...Huh?" Adam's eyes narrowed even further. He slowly turned his head away from her, not even realizing that his eyebrows were knitted and his mouth was slightly open.

Sylvie quickly noticed the look he was giving her.

"W-wait! Wait!" She held up her hands quickly. "It's not… it's not what you think! It's the scent of your blood! I wiped your blood from my hands with a cloth back then, and I've been carrying it since!"

"What…?" Adam leaned back even further, almost raising his head with how disturbed he was about that statement.

"No! That's not what I wanted to… wait." Sylvie decided to stop talking for now. She leaned back, straightening her posture again as he forced herself to stay calm and to choose her words more carefully.

This silence between them stretched on, however, as she struggled to find an explanation that wouldn't sound… pervertedly unhinged. Because no matter how much she pictured it…

…she was even smelling the cloth with the blood. It was, in a way, truly perverse now that she was thinking clearly about it.

If she could die from wincing inside too much, she would probably already be dead.

She bit her lip for a few seconds, and just as she opened her mouth to try and explain the situation again, the paper door of their booth slid open.

"Excuse me, your food is here." A waitress was kneeling on the floor, placing a tray on the table with their order on it.

She placed the juicy steak in front of Adam, then set down an enormous platter of sashimi for Sylvie.

"What…" Sylvie's eyes widened at the ridiculous size of her plate.

The waitress caught her expression and chuckled. "It's meant for sharing, Duelist of Rose. We're not all fat here in America, you know."

Sylvie looked at the waitress in complete disbelief—shocked that she knew who she was, but most importantly, how blunt she was.

"Enjoy your meal," the waitress said, cheerfully smiling before sliding the door closed.

And once again, silence.

Sylvie just sat there awkwardly staring at the beautiful mountain of sashimi before her. She glanced across at Adam, who was already slicing into his steak.

Adam noticed her looking and subtly pulled the plate closer to him.

"Do… you want some?" He still offered, however.

"No." Sylvie quickly shook her head before pushing her platter slightly. "I mean… would you like some?"

And of course, Adam nodded without hesitation.

Sylvie began transferring pieces to a small plate for him. She was about to ask him again about how he was still alive, but noticed that he had his eyes closed, savoring his steak.

Perhaps… she should've actually asked for a slice? Was the steak… that good?

Sylvie watched him for several more seconds, and when she realized she was actually staring at his lips, she quickly looked away.

What… was going on with her? She thought. But she also quickly convinced herself it was all just curiosity. How could she not be curious when someone supposedly dead was sitting in front of her?

Well, there was no use overthinking it. Sylvie decided to eat for now.

After several minutes of eating in relative silence, as they were served tea, she finally asked the question that had been burning in her mind.

"The one that Bjorn killed... that was you, right? It was hard to see from the drone… but who else could it be?"

"No," Adam said bluntly.

Sylvie sighed. "I'm not going to tell anyone. There's no point hiding it from me."

She leaned forward slightly. "Please. I truly want to talk with you."

Adam stared at her for a long moment, then sighed heavily. In truth, he'd been thinking of ways to escape since they'd sat down. But he could think of nothing—he'd already faced Sylvie before, and she was on a completely different level than Susan.

No… there wasn't even a level between them. They weren't even in the same category.

If she wanted to harm him, she could have done so already, and there would be nothing he could do about it.

And so, after much deliberation, he finally spoke.

"Yes."

This caught Sylvie off guard, and a stuttering gasp escaped her lips.

"H-how?" she asked.

"I don't know." Adam shrugged. "I've always been like this."

"...Always been like what?"

"I heal," Adam finally replied, his breathing becoming heavier as he admitted that secret aloud. He felt the same sensation he'd experienced with Grace—scary and liberating at the same time. But that was the extent of what he wanted Sylvie to know.

"You... heal?" Sylvie's eyes narrowed as she processed this information. She looked down, then focused intently on Adam.

Her eyes suddenly widened in realization.

"You had abilities even before the Game!" she gasped again, her voice filled with shock.

She immediately covered her mouth when she noticed how loudly she'd spoken, especially seeing Adam's sharp glare.

"Sorry," she whispered. "...Sorry."

The booth fell into complete silence after that.

And when ten seconds of that silence remained, Adam sighed and nodded, taking it as a sign that their conversation was over.

Before he could stand, however, Sylvie suddenly grabbed his hand—he couldn't even react to how fast she moved.

"Wh—"

Sylvie quickly released his hand before he could say anything, her own face flushing as she realized what she'd done. She wanted to say something but couldn't find the words… since she doesn't know why she did that in the first place.

Adam noticed her struggle and settled back onto the floor.

"What… do you want from me?"

Sylvie couldn't answer immediately—she wasn't entirely sure herself why she was there. But if she had to think of a reason, there was really only one.

"Because…" Sylvie hesitated, then whispered, "I'm drawn to you. C'est plus fort que moi. Like how a moth is drawn to fire. There's something about your blood… and now I know why. Your blood is special. You are special."

Adam closed his eyes at her words. When he opened them again, he looked at her with an expression that could only be described… as disgust—like he was judging her for being incredibly weird.

And that was when Adam realized he might actually be in danger here. Of course, once again, that look was obvious to Sylvie.

"It's not like that!" Sylvie quickly defended herself, then decided to change the subject entirely so that she could salvage the situation… and her dignity.

"Why haven't you registered with the IBAA yet?"

"I have my reasons," Adam replied curtly.

"If it's about your ability, that shouldn't be a problem. No one would know you were in the last Game and should be dead," Sylvie pointed out.

"It's not that, it's—" Adam began.

Before he could finish his words, Sylvie's eyes suddenly widened, and she turned sharply toward the door. Before Adam could even wonder about her sudden alertness, the paper door slid open again.

But they didn't have any more orders. But as Adam turned his head, he quickly recognized the familiar figure standing there.

Dr. Aniston. Again.

"You…" And of course, Adam immediately misunderstood the situation. He quickly stood up, glaring at Sylvie with betrayal burning in his eyes.

"You... helped them track me? Why?" he muttered quietly, disbelief heavy in his voice.

"What?!" Sylvie also stood up.

"No!"

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