Narrator (silent, slow-burning voice)Zinn can't breathe—because he knows, in this very moment, everything will change.
When he slowly lifted his head—for the first time, he saw… that person standing before him.
Black pants. Black coat. White shirt. Black tie. Hair —deep, burning black. Age — between 30 and 35,but there's no trace of age in his eyes—only the intense imprint of experience.
He stands still—the wind brushes the edges of his coat. His gaze is fixed on Zinn. No breath, no emotion—but Zinn realizes—this is not an ordinary human.
The man speaks only one sentence—his voice is a blend of metallic melancholy and fractured beauty.
"When I look at your face—it feels like I've stepped into another world. A face so beautiful—even calling you an angel would be an insult."
Zinn doesn't move. His eyes are like stone. A cold voice escapes from his throat—
"Why did you attack me?"
The man tilts his head slightly, in his eyes, one drop of curiosity, another drop of distant memory.
"Where you came from—everyone there was a Psycho Entity. I thought you were one of them. I am the Bodyguard of this city—City Guardian."
His eyes suddenly narrow—a sharp, stony gaze toward Zinn—
"…but…"his voice slowly fades, he whispers in astonishment—
"There's no symbol on your head…which means—you don't have the Psycho Virus inside you. How… how is that possible?"
Zinn slightly curls his lips—a hollow, tearless smile.
"Your attack on me was part of my plan. Even if you attack me now—that too is within my plan."
There's a cold shadow of solitary intellect in his voice.
The Guardian clenches his jaw, he releases Psycho Fate energy from his body. He raises his hand and hurls it towards Zinn—the air trembles.
Zinn closes his eyes and says silently—
"I already knew—you would attack. So I've prepared for that as well."
Just before the Guardian's Psycho Fate strikes—invisible controlling waves spread around Zinn. The Guardian's Psycho Fate suddenly freezes. His body shudders. He loses himself for a moment—but immediately regains composure.
His gaze now deepens further—his voice slow, but heavy.
"You… are dangerous. But maybe you could be useful to us. You might not even be dangerous—because I kicked you once, and yet you stood up in this condition. You're smart—your brain will be useful to us."
The Guardian slowly takes out a handcuff from his Space Ring. It looks ultra-modern, black metal with glowing blue luminescent lines. It seems like both a mental contract and a physical restraint together.
He steps toward Zinn and locks the handcuff on his hand. His eyes are steady—
"I won't kill you. But you have to come with me."
Zinn silently looks at the shimmering cuff on his hand. Again, that strange hollow smile at the corner of his lips.
Narrator (steady, voice drenched in dark shadows)"This was the first time—Zinn got entangled with someone, but it wasn't a bondage—it was the beginning of a new plan. Zinn knows—even inside this Bodyguard, there is a fracture. And that fracture is the first rope of the plan."
Next scene
Narrator (deep, slow, breathless voice)The night grows heavier. Every particle of air carries silence—a stillness where time itself has stopped.
The two of them walk slowly. The streetlights now seem like extinguished stars—dim and nearly dead. Beneath their feet is not asphalt, it feels like the void of black glass—an abyss where sound enters and disappears.
The Bodyguard gestures forward—his voice dry, yet controlled.
"My car is over there."
Is there peace in his eyes? Or something else? Zinn does not know. He only walks. His footsteps silent—as if a shadow walks within shadow.
They reach the car. The car is black, metallic, gleaming—but there's no reflection of the city's dirty lights on its surface. It seems less like a real car—more like a car of memories, where reality and unreality merge together.
The Bodyguard opens the front door and looks at Zinn—his eyes deep, yet hollow. He quietly says—
"Sit."
Zinn enters the car without a word. The seat is cold, instead of the scent of leather, there is a metallic, unknown chemical aroma drifting here. His breath freezes.
Just then—the Bodyguard silently takes outa black, sleek syringe from his pocket. His movements are so precise and fluid it feels as if this moment was preordained.
Before Zinn can realize anything—the syringe pierces the back of his neck. The needle is so fine that Zinn feels no pain.
But instantly—his vision starts to blur. The lights around him begin to sway, and sounds seem to sink underwater.
His voice falls silent—his body becomes limp. In a flash, he sees—the Bodyguard staring quietly. His expression is stern, but in his eyes—there is a strange tremor.
The Bodyguard slowly moves to open the other side of the car door. Just then—a cold breeze touches the back of his neck. His hand suddenly trembles.
His gaze clouds. His mind seems torn and drifts elsewhere. His voice cracks, but a faint whisper—
"No…This can't be…"
His lips dry up. His chest heaves—a suppressed wave of fear and disbelief sweeps through his body. His hands begin to shake—in tiny tremors.
Suddenly, fragments of earlier memories erupt in his mind. When Zinn and he were walking—in the silent darkness of the street, Zinn suddenly paused, brought his right hand behind and placed it precisely at the back of his own neck. His voice was quiet, yet firm—
"There might be a little pain here."
The Bodyguard didn't say anything then. He was looking forward—a drop of hidden disbelief at the corner of his eye.
Now that memory strikes his mind—like a roar, as if the wall behind reality is cracking.
His eyes widen. His insides hollow out. His voice whispers again—
"No…Zinn…He…He knew all along…"
His entire body sways—begins to shudder, as if trapped within time. The surrounding scene blurs—the road, the car, the lights, the night—all melt away and float into a black-purple hallucinatory world.
Narrator (breathless, soundless voice)In this very moment, the Bodyguard realizes—he didn't just fall into a trap…he had been in Zinn's hands all along—and he never knew it.