Soft, soothing music drifted through the cabin as passengers sat quietly, each seemingly absorbed in their own thoughts. The interior of the airship was sleek and refined, its design exuding understated luxury. High above the clouds, the journey had been smooth—uneventful.

  A hostess stopped beside a young man dressed in a casual suit and offered him a warm smile.

  “Sir, can I get you anything before we land?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Adam lifted a hand in polite dismissal.

  “Very well, sir. Please let me know if you need anything.” She moved on to the next row, her smile brightening further as she did.

  Adam turned back to the view beyond the window. The sky stretched endlessly, and the sprawling land below looked exactly as he remembered.

  Six months…

  It really is good to be back.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your conductor speaking,” a clear voice announced, carrying easily through the cabin. “We will be arriving at the port in ten minutes. Please ensure all your valuables are secured while disembarking. It has been my honor to serve you on this long—but exciting—journey. I wish you the best in your future endeavors, and I hope you choose to fly with us again.”

  The announcement faded into the background as Adam’s gaze fixed on the golden tower rising at the heart of Dratol—the Labyrinth of the Nameless, the most renowned grand dungeon in the eastern states.

  [Establishing connection to Omen…]

  [Connection successfully established.]

  Adam jolted in his seat.

  What—?

  In the faint reflection of the window, he watched the whites of his eyes vanish as darkness seeped across his face and arms, spreading as though he were mid-transformation.

  An ear-splitting chime erupted throughout the cabin.

  Outside, the Labyrinth of the Nameless flared to life, releasing a pulsating, near-blinding golden radiance.

  [The Labyrinth of the Nameless acknowledges the presence of a Lord Candidate!]

  Adam stared at the system notification, lips parted in stunned silence.

  The brilliance enveloping the tower slowly receded—but in its wake, chaos bloomed within the airship. The thunderous chime had been impossible to ignore, and several passengers had clearly seen the tower’s glow. Panic rippled through the cabin, voices rising as hostesses hurried to calm the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm,” the conductor’s voice rang out once more. “There is no cause for alarm. Your safety is our highest priority.”

  The unrest gradually subsided, though unease lingered. Many passengers continued to stare at the now-inert tower, their fear barely concealed.

  Adam kept his eyes on the dungeon.

  A low chuckle slithered into his ears.

  “One day, we’ll conquer them all,” the demon purred. “But not if you remain a hesitant weakling.”

  Adam lowered his head, refusing to acknowledge the taunt. Instead, he subtly scanned the cabin. Fear was etched into most faces—some whispered prayers, others argued in hushed tones. Children sobbed openly while the hostesses did their best to restore order.

  No one noticed, he realized.

  The spectacle outside had drawn all attention away from him.

  Will entering dungeons trigger more effects in the future?

  The thought lingered uneasily. Living with the consequences of Hated One was already burdensome enough. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if it stacked with the Lord Candidate title.

  Seconds stretched into minutes as the airship finally docked at Dratol’s famous port. The shaken passengers disembarked in haste, sparing little attention for the breathtaking scenery that usually greeted arrivals.

  “Please remain calm, everyone! Disregard any rumors regarding the dungeon. The guilds have the situation under control!”

  Awakened clad in various guild uniforms guided passengers away from the airships. Even so, chaos reigned—no one could deny that the port had descended into disarray.

  Varidan’s here too, Adam noted, spotting several Varidan instructors among the Awakened struggling to pacify the crowd.

  A grand dungeon acting up is nothing short of a calamity.

  He surveyed the landing area. All airships—including those that had departed earlier—had been recalled. The skies above Dratol, especially near the grand dungeon, were now under strict flight prohibition.

  Adam slipped into the crowd, heading for the elevator. Though he knew no one could realistically link the disturbance to him, tempting fate felt unwise. Within minutes, he reached the port’s main exit.

  Then—he stopped.

  Hundreds—no, thousands—of Awakened lined the streets, their guild insignias proudly displayed as they formed a corridor stretching toward the heart of Dratol.

  I underestimated how seriously they’d take this, he mused, quietly observing the scene.

  He quickly dismissed the thought of what might happen if they somehow traced the incident back to him.

  Adam pressed on, moving with slow, deliberate steps through the tide of humanity. Finding a carriage in this mess will be a nightmare.

  The streets were choked with people rather than vehicles. The few transports he did spot bore the crests of powerful guilds.

  I should stop by a tavern before heading to the academy, he decided. There’s no better place to learn what I’ve missed.

  He exhaled as he navigated the congested roads. Some stood frozen in place, others jostled for vantage points—but together, they formed the relentless current Adam was forced to wade through.

  Most of the crowd had gathered simply to gawk at the awe-inspiring lineup of Awakened. Some whispered theories about the dungeon’s sudden reaction, others argued over half-baked speculations. A few spun increasingly absurd explanations, while many watched in silence, eyes sharp with curiosity.

  An impromptu gathering of this scale naturally attracted all kinds.

  Pickpockets slipped through distracted pockets, while opportunists loudly advertised “miracle dungeon oils” and other fraudulent wares at scattered corners of the street.

  [Potential source of danger detected!]

  Adam stopped mid-step.

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  His eyes narrowed as a woman in a sundress approached from the opposite direction.

  Why does it look like she’s heading straight for me? he wondered.

  The red-haired woman weaved carefully through the crowd, her pace brisk but unhurried, until she stopped directly in front of him.

  “Welcome back to Dratol, Adam.”

  “Who are you—and how do you know me?” Adam growled.

  His muscles tensed, posture tightening as instinct primed him for combat.

  The woman merely waved a hand, as though brushing aside an overreaction.

  “There’s no need to be so tense,” she said calmly. “I’m only here to deliver a message from Mr. Vicar.”

  Adam’s expression loosened slightly—but only slightly.

  She smiled wider and retrieved a folded letter from a small leather purse, extending it toward him. “Please take it.”

  “How did you recognize me?”

  “Mr. Vicar said you would ask,” she replied without hesitation. “And he told me not to answer. I’m sincerely sorry.”

  Adam studied her in silence before accepting the letter.

  “It would be best if you read it somewhere less crowded,” she added gently. “I trust you’ll do what’s wisest.”

  She turned to leave. “Take care of yourself, Adam. I hope we meet again.”

  A mesmerizing smile flashed over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd.

  Adam didn’t turn around. He sensed several men staring after her—and a few glancing at him—but he ignored them all.

  “Don’t let her go, Adam,” the demonic voice hissed suddenly. “She’s the perfect specimen to increase our rank. You’d be a fool to let her walk away.”

  “What are you talking about?” Adam muttered, casting a brief glance in her direction. “She’s just a human.”

  “Just a human?” the demon scoffed. “Nonsense! She’s far more nutritious than any human could ever be. Chase her—now! We can still have our way with her!”

  Adam watched her vanish between bodies for a moment longer… then turned away.

  His eyes dropped to the letter, brow furrowing.

  I’ve always suspected that lunatic tracks my movements. This all but confirms it.

  But how did she see through Manipulator?

  He had no answer.

  Everything connected to Vicar and the Scavengers was secured within his inventory—yet she had recognized him instantly, altered appearance and all.

  “Stop wasting time thinking,” the demon snarled. “Chase her!”

  Adam ignored it. He slipped into a narrow alley, set his briefcase against the wall, and broke the seal on the letter.

  Congratulations on completing your first mission, Adam.

  It’s good to know my efforts in training you weren’t wasted. For your sake, I hope you didn’t do anything foolish to the messenger.

  A lot has happened since you left for Vohmir. Unfortunately, I can’t be bothered to explain everything. A resourceful person like you will uncover the truth soon enough.

  You must return to Varidan Academy as soon as possible. While there are currently no suspicions regarding the substitute, it won’t deceive everyone for long. Elliot will provide you with a full report of everything the substitute experienced during your mission.

  Also—the man you brought from the Wazar region passed away several months ago. As he was affiliated with you, we handled the funeral proceedings.

  Don’t grow complacent because of your success. Elliot will contact you when your next mission is decided.

  This letter will self-destruct when the paper turns red.

  Without fully processing the contents, Adam let the letter fall from his hand.

  The peach-colored paper flushed crimson in an instant, then crumbled into ash.

  “Captain… died,” Adam murmured, head lowered.

  “Sulking?” the demon mocked. “Trash like that should’ve died sooner. What’s done is done.”

  “Shut the hell up and let me think,” Adam snapped.

  The demon’s laughter rang out—sharp, derisive. This time, it cut deeper.

  Adam leaned back against the alley wall, eyes fixed on the drifting ash.

  He had anticipated changes upon his return. Wallace’s death hadn’t been one of them.

  Just like the ashes at his feet, something that once existed… was gone.

  Would he still be alive if I hadn’t dragged him to Dratol?

  What were Igor and Bricteva doing? How did they let Wallace die?

  The moment didn’t last.

  “My, my,” a voice drawled. “Didn’t know nobles wandered into places like this.”

  Adam lifted his head.

  Three men stood at the mouth of the alley, their clothes worn, their smiles sharp. The leader casually flipped a small dagger between his hands. The other two carried similar blades.

  “Look at that suit,” the leader said, eyes gleaming. “Must be worth a fortune.”

  “That’s Melanie’s wedding paid for,” one of the men chuckled darkly. “No more trash clothes for us.”

  “I want the shoes,” the third said eagerly.

  “I want the shirt,” another added with a laugh.

  “Easy, boys,” the leader said, raising a hand. His gaze never left Adam.

  “I’m sure this fine gentleman has enough coin to treat us to new clothes—and a few meals. Isn’t that right?”

  Adam stared at them briefly… then turned away.

  “I’m in a bad mood,” he said evenly. “I don’t have time for this. Leave now—before you regret it.”

  The men exchanged glances.

  Then they burst out laughing.

  “Buddy,” one of the thieves snapped, “do you want us to gut you like a fish?”

  “You’d better cooperate while we’re still being polite,” another added. “Strip. Leave everything valuable. You’ve got ten fucking seconds.”

  The leader gave a subtle signal. The trio fanned out instinctively, sealing off the alley’s exit.

  Adam sighed and shook his head.

  “Last chance,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Leave.”

  They advanced instead—daggers raised, eyes gleaming.

  Adam exhaled again and rolled his shoulders once.

  “I warned you.”

  The air collapsed.

  [Activating Domain — World of Phantasm]

  [Domain successfully activated]

  There was no explosion. No spectacle.

  Reality simply folded inward.

  One moment, the alley reeked of sweat, trash, and desperation. The next, everything beyond a few meters dissolved into a slow, churning void. The crowd. The noise. The city itself—gone.

  Adam stepped forward. His boots crunched softly against stone that no longer belonged to Dratol.

  He tilted his head, popped his neck, and let the tension drain from his frame.

  “Honestly,” he said, conversationally, “I’m glad you didn’t listen. I needed this.”

  He raised his gaze.

  The thieves froze.

  Adam felt the familiar shift ripple through him. His pupils fractured—four irises blooming into existence, each rotating faintly in its own hue: turquoise, crimson, emerald, molten amber. Darkness crept across his skin in deliberate patches, crawling along his arms and throat like living ink.

  Fear struck them all at once.

  “Is… is he a demon?” the leader whispered, already retreating.

  “We have to run,” another hissed, panic splintering his voice. “That thing isn’t human.”

  They turned—and slammed into nothing.

  Where the alley’s mouth should have been was only darkness, vast and spiraling. It pulsed gently, as though breathing.

  “What the hell—?!” the leader screamed. “Where did the street go?!”

  Their voices echoed uselessly, stretched thin, stripped of urgency.

  “Help!”

  “Someone help us!”

  “There’s a demon—!”

  Only Adam laughed.

  The sound made their legs buckle. Daggers clattered to the ground as they dropped to their knees and crawled forward.

  “Please—please have mercy!” the leader sobbed. “I’ll do anything! I have a family! My sister’s wedding is tomorrow—I’m all she has left!”

  Adam studied him.

  Not with anger. Not with cruelty.

  With interest.

  The other two continued screaming behind him, blind to everything except their terror.

  “They can’t hear you,” Adam said quietly, stepping closer. “No one can.”

  The man looked back, shouting their names, receiving nothing in return.

  Adam stopped a few feet away and leaned back against the brick wall, arms crossing as though this were a casual negotiation.

  “If you do exactly what I say,” he said, “I won’t kill you.”

  Hope detonated across the man’s face. “R-Really? Thank you—I swear I’ll—”

  “But,” Adam continued evenly, “you’ll have to kill them.”

  The words crushed the air.

  “…Pardon?”

  Sweat streamed down the man’s face as he stared at his companions—still screaming, still alive.

  “I don’t repeat myself,” Adam said. “You have three seconds.”

  “There has to be another way—!”

  “One.”

  “P-please—there has to be—!”

  “Two.”

  His eyes flicked to the dagger on the ground. His hands shook violently.

  “Thr—”

  “I’ll do it!” he screamed. “I’ll do it!”

  Adam straightened. “Five seconds. Don’t hesitate.”

  The man seized the dagger.

  Adam watched every microsecond—the tightening grip, the dilated pupils, the breath hitching in his throat.

  “Three.”

  The blade slid into his companion’s neck with a wet, nauseating sound. Hot blood sprayed across his hands, the metallic stench flooding the air.

  “Four.”

  He ripped the dagger free and plunged it into the other man just as violently. The dying man screamed—still screaming—as blood poured down his chest.

  Adam clapped once.

  The sound cracked through the void.

  “Excellent,” Adam said. “You passed.”

  The man collapsed, gasping.

  Then the bodies faded.

  Flesh, blood, smell—gone. Dissolving into nothing.

  “What…?” he whispered.

  Voices came from behind him.

  “Tobias?”

  “Dean?”

  “Peader—are you alive?”

  Tobias turned, trembling.

  They stood there. Whole. Unharmed.

  Understanding struck him like a hammer.

  It was all fake.

  And that made it worse.

  The world snapped back into place—the alley, the distant noise, the murmuring crowd. Tobias laughed weakly, relief crashing through him as he recognized the street.

  Then he remembered.

  The cause of the nightmare was still behind him.

  He turned.

  “Alright,” Adam said calmly. “You can attack now.”

  The trio stared at him, confused.

  Adam pointed toward the street. “Pick up your daggers. Attack the Awakened.”

  Their bodies moved.

  Not willingly.

  Daggers rose. Muscles obeyed something else.

  “What’s happening?!” Tobias screamed. “You promised!”

  Adam brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder.

  “I promised not to kill you myself.”

  He met Tobias’s eyes one final time.

  “Don’t worry. To everyone else, you’re just idiots screaming nonsense.”

  Then Adam vanished.

  The thieves burst from the alley, charging headlong toward the Awakened forces near lining the streets—eyes wide, bodies stolen, screams unheard.