She leaned back and let out a quiet laugh. Young was a bit bewildered—had she gone mad?
"Sorry, sorry. It's you lot! A little birdie told me you actually managed to eliminate that Ferit-ranked soul… wow! That deserves an applause. I couldn't have pulled that off alone—honestly, I was just taking a chance when I interfered. Still, I'm not about to risk my life for nothing. It's not like I get extra pay for putting in more effort… Tsk."
Young stared at her for a moment, then turned his head towards the café entrance as it opened. Seeing it was just an ordinary customer, he sighed and turned back to her.
"So, what's your name—and where are you from? Rough introduction, perhaps."
"Nah, nah. No problemo. I'm Muse, from Australia. The Const Clan. Not in the top ten, not to mention the elite. Lol. You?"
Young thought for a moment.
'I've honestly never heard of that clan, but I've always admired Australia. Whatever, though. She might blow her top if I told her mine… since we're ranked number one globally. Well, here goes nothing.'
He finally answered, watching as she sipped the bubble tea in front of her.
"I'm Young Eirson. From Antarctica. I believe there's no need for further details."
Her eyes widened, and she nearly spat her drink out, catching herself with a hand and swallowing hard.
"You're from the Eirson Clan?! And not even an external member, but an actual family member? What! I'm not buying that. Wait, if you're from Antarctica, how the hell is your English so fluent—and with a British accent?"
Young nearly cursed her out right there, but restrained himself and remained composed.
"We do learn, you know. English is the only language we communicate in. British English, specifically. I don't believe that's a riddle for you to solve."
She stared at him for a moment, still stunned. "So, the other two with you—they're also Eirsons?"
Young nodded, arms folded proudly.
"You're truly to be envied..." she murmured.
Suddenly, her phone chimed with a notification. She hastily packed her bag and picked up her bubble tea.
"Gotta run. See you around, Eirson. Hope fate brings us together again," she said hurriedly, before darting out of the café and down the street.
Young shook his head and made his way back to the other two.
When he sat back with them, Carla asked who the girl was. It surprised Young that she had forgotten. August simply never cared to register her face—she wasn't anything important to him—and at the moment, he was calmly trying to figure out how to use the headset. When he got lost, he dropped it with a sigh, ran his hands through his hair, then leaned back and looked out the window as the other two continued their discussion.
After a while, the three decided to stop for the day and head back to their base. The night, however, only seemed to grow busier with each passing moment. August had the idea to train himself again—perhaps he could finally gain access to some decent battle skills if he "levelled up". A term he kept in mind, though he wasn't quite sure how it tied into the system.
At this point, he wasn't entirely certain whether his soul core would revolve around dark powers—something shadow-like, perhaps similar to Carla's—but he was sure he wasn't ritual-based like Young. And in actual fact, if Young ever got access to more rituals, he could very well become the strongest among them.
The three walked down the streets, making their way back to their exiled base—quite literally. The route was dark and eerily quiet. As they ventured further into the night, five men suddenly approached and pointed towards Carla with wide, crooked grins.
"Sorry for disturbing your walk, gentlemen. But we'd kindly like to request a moment with the young lady among you. We have something of importance to offer," one of them said in a low tone, laced with mischief.
Is that how they approach girls here? Carla thought, shaking her head as she stepped forward. Their grins widened instantly.
All of a sudden, August placed a hand on her shoulder, halting her.
"…Sorry, but can I ask for a favour?"
She tilted her head slightly, quickly understanding what he meant. Clearly, August intended to use them as test dummies. He moved forward in her place, and the grins on their faces immediately vanished.
He didn't say a word, and just kept walking until he stood face to face with the first man.
One of them scoffed and threw a sloppy punch. Before it even landed, August sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it backwards with a sickening crunch. A firm knee met his stomach, and the man dropped with a thud, coughing blood instantly.
'Normal humans can't even handle a single hit… Pathetic.' Young thought, glaring darkly at the fallen man.
The second rushed in with a short blade, but August ducked low and drove an elbow into his throat. The man choked, collapsing as his eyes rolled back.
Another tried to sneak in from behind—August turned in a blur, landed a precise kick straight to his chin, sending him flying into a nearby bin with a clatter.
The fourth froze, wide-eyed, but it was too late. August grabbed him by the collar, headbutted him once, then delivered a hook to the ribs that knocked the air out of him completely. The man collapsed like wet paper.
The last one hesitated for a second, then swung wildly. August didn't even flinch. He blocked the punch with his forearm, grabbed the man's arm and snapped it cleanly at the elbow, then kicked him square in the chest. The impact sent him crashing into the pavement, unmoving.
Five down. Not a single scratch.
August didn't spare them a glance. He turned, hands in his pockets, and walked away in silence.
Carla whistled slowly.
"Well… that escalated quickly."
Young shrugged. "He didn't even stretch."
"Shouldn't we get going now?"