Zen trudged up the last few steps, his clothes sticking to his back like a second skin. "Holy shit, this highland is an oven. If I don't die from dehydration, I'll probably just burst into flames." He wiped his forehead, glaring at the relentless sun. "Whose idea was it to set up camp in hell's waiting room?"
Meanwhile, Muki strutted along, unfazed. The heat didn't bother her in the slightest. Zen narrowed his eyes. "You know, sometimes I forget you're a freak of nature, but then you pull stunts like this." Muki flicked her tail, completely ignoring him.
The hideout was bigger than the last one, which was good news. Maybe this time, he wouldn't have to sleep with a dagger under his pillow. As he stepped inside, two guys—about his age—stood near the entrance. They barely spared him a glance. Zen held up the poorly drawn map. "Yeah, I'm looking for the 'geniuses' running this operation."
One of them shot him a weird look before mumbling, "Straight ahead, first right."
Zen nodded. "Thanks for the enthusiasm, guys. Really appreciate it."
Inside, the room was packed. Crime sat at a round table, looking as smug as ever. Next to him, a girl—probably his age—leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. Across the room, the Master stood near a window, seemingly lost in thought. Then, there was the bald guy. Twice Zen's size, built like a walking boulder. His mask made him look even more terrifying. A group of three men sat in the left corner and on the right side under the window sat two girls.
Too many people, Zen thought.
Zen scanned the room. Everyone wore a mask, each one different, each one giving off an air of mystery. He frowned. When the hell do I get one?
Seriously, at this rate, even Muki would get a mask before him.
The Master's gaze landed on Zen, and just like that, all eyes followed.
"Ohhh, fantastic. Zen has arrived, everyone," the Master declared, his enthusiasm making Zen feel like some lost pet finally stumbling home.
A few people acknowledged him with nods. Others barely spared him a glance before going back to their conversations. Well, at least no one tried to stab him—yet.
"I trust the journey wasn't too much of a hassle? Apologies on behalf of Crime," the Master said, his voice smooth and composed. "He shouldn't have left you alone."
Crime, lounging back like he owned the place, smirked. "It's a tough world, Master. He had to learn to fend for himself."
Zen shot him an annoyed look. "Yeah, thanks for the life lesson, oh wise one." Then, turning back to the Master, he forced a polite smile. "It was fine, Master." He gave the salute he had seen the others do. Probably looked awkward as hell, but whatever.
Might as well make it official. "Alright, since we're all here, I'm Zen," he said, loud enough for the room to hear. "And this," he gestured at the black ball of fur currently invading people's personal space, "is Muki."
Muki, in true Muki fashion, was already weaving between legs, nudging hands, and demanding attention like she owned the place.
Zen sighed. "Fantastic. She has zero survival instinct."
Somewhere in the room, someone chuckled.
Zen dropped into a seat opposite Crime, eager for whatever insanity was about to unfold next. The room buzzed with chatter, and just as he was starting to get comfortable, footsteps echoed from the entrance.
More people? Just how big is this whole operation?
Two familiar figures stepped through the door. Zen's eyes widened before a grin stretched across his face. "Captain!" he practically yelled, bolting from his seat.
Without thinking, he rushed forward and hugged the man. The Captain let out a hearty laugh, patting Zen's back like he was some lost puppy finally making it home.
"Thanks for saving me that day," Zen said, stepping back, and then turning to the tall girl beside him. He gave her a nod. "Nice to meet you too."
Crime, who had been lazily observing the whole thing, suddenly tensed up. His eyes flicked toward the Captain like he'd just seen a ghost.
Zen caught the reaction immediately. "Wait a damn second—" he turned to Crime, smirking, "—weren't you the one who said you killed him?"
Crime huffed, crossing his arms. "Huh. Whatever."
Yeah. Thought so.
The Master clapped his hands together, calling for attention. "As you all heard, this is Captain, one of the Astral. And with him is Star, our best map maker."
Zen snorted. "Finally! We'll be getting maps that don't look like they were drawn by a five-year-old."
Laughter rippled through the room as Crime shot him a half-hearted glare.
Master continued, gesturing to each person in turn. "To introduce our crew, The big guy over there is Horn, another Astral. The trio sitting at the back—Do, Fa, and Mei—are thugs who help us operate in the Black Market. The twin girls here are Nuru and Nuri, our blessed assassins."
"The girl next to Crime is Marja," Master went on, "and the two boys you met outside—Boh, the tall one, and Killm, the shorter one—are our helpers."
He spread his arms wide, his voice carrying authority. "So, welcome, everyone, to our rebellious family. We respect each other, and soon, we begin our operations."
Zen exhaled, leaning back.
Oh, great. So this is what his life had come to. A bunch of masked misfits, a half-baked rebellion, and plans to take down an entire order of god-like figures.
…Yeah, this was going to be just fine.