Kyahhh!
Another fangirl attack exploded inside Viola's head, so loud it felt like fireworks were going off behind her eyes.
Ezekiel had always been handsome. Even back then, when he stood at the center of attention with cameras flashing and people whispering his name in awe or fear, there had been something arresting about him. His sharp features, his cold gaze, the quiet authority he carried in every movement. He had looked like a seductive demon lord carved out of shadow and flame.
But this.
This was completely different.
The man standing before her now did not resemble a ruler of darkness. He looked like an angel who had descended from the heavens without warning. The change in styling softened the edges of his face. His aura, once oppressive and heavy, felt lighter somehow. Dangerous still, yes, but in a way that drew people closer rather than pushing them away.
Viola realized she had been staring far too long.
"Viola."
His voice snapped her out of her trance.
"What were you saying again?"
And just like that, her daydream shattered into a thousand embarrassing pieces.
"Ah! Yes, yes!" She cleared her throat and forced her professional composure back into place. "I was thinking if you could choose between these two wigs."
She lifted both options for him to see clearly.
On her right hand was a short white wig. The strands were soft and slightly layered, falling just above the nape of the neck. On her left was a hazel-colored short wig, more natural and understated.
"What do you think?" she asked, trying very hard not to sound like a stylist presenting options to a celebrity.
Ezekiel studied them quietly.
The hazel shade was not bad. It looked natural enough to blend in with the crowd. Safe and practical.
But his eyes lingered on the white one.
White hair.
It was the same color as that one person.
His mind betrayed him with the memory. Long, shimmering white hair that flowed down her back like silk. If touched, it would certainly feel soft. That shade had suited her green eyes perfectly. She had looked almost unreal under the sunlight.
He pushed the thought away.
"I think I should try the white one," he said calmly. "It's the opposite of my real hair color."
"Oh, this one?" Viola raised her right hand slightly, showing the white wig again, just to confirm.
"Yes."
"Okay. Let's put it on now."
They moved closer, and Viola carefully positioned the wig over his head. Her fingers worked gently, adjusting the inner net, smoothing the strands, trimming a small uneven edge with quick precision. She stepped back, then forward again, tilting her head as she examined him from different angles.
A few minutes later, she was fully satisfied.
He looked unreal.
The white hair framed his face in a way that made his sharp jawline even more striking. The contrast between his shining blue eyes and pale hair was breathtaking. Viola had to physically stop herself from clapping in excitement.
He is so handsome, she screamed internally. How is this even legal?
But then reality returned.
There was a problem.
Although his hair and overall tone had changed, his physique remained the same. His broad shoulders, his posture, the way he carried himself. Anyone familiar with him might still recognize him, especially someone who had watched him closely before.
This won't do.
Without warning, Viola hurried to one of her drawers and pulled out an old spare pair of thick-framed glasses. The lenses were slightly tinted and wide enough to hide most of his eyes from afar.
She placed them carefully on his face.
"There," she muttered.
The glasses made his eyes appear smaller and less defined. From a distance, it would be difficult to distinguish his gaze.
"Is this alright, Ezekiel? Can you still see?"
"Yes." He adjusted the frame slightly. "My eyesight changed a bit when I awakened. My field of vision became much sharper than average. Wearing this degrades it slightly, but I can still see like a normal person."
"That's good. Though I'm sorry for lowering your vision."
"Don't be."
She crossed her arms thoughtfully.
"You should also wear something oversized. A hood, maybe. Something that hides your physique."
She snapped her fingers suddenly.
"I think I bought you one like that a few days ago. You can check your drawer."
"Alright."
As he turned to leave, a small thought surfaced in his mind.
Those clothes he saw earlier were indeed brand new and untouched.
Before entering his room, he paused and looked back at her.
"Do you live alone?"
Viola blinked at the unexpected question.
"Yes. My family lives in the countryside."
"I see."
There was something unreadable in his tone, but he said nothing more and walked away.
—
A while later, they met again in the living room.
This time, Ezekiel was the one who froze.
Viola had transformed.
Her long hair was gone, replaced with a short black cut that framed her face sharply. She wore gray cargo pants and a black cropped hoodie layered with a light jacket. A pair of dark shades rested over her eyes. The casual street style made her look completely different from the angelic woman people saw on screens.
She looked fierce. Confident. Almost intimidating.
Yet still stylish.
He noticed the black backpack slung over her shoulder.
She noticed his stare and smirked slightly.
"Well?"
"You look different," he admitted.
"Good different or bad different?"
"…Effective."
She took that as a compliment.
"Should we head out?"
He nodded.
They stepped outside together and walked toward the garage. Viola pressed her car keys, and the gray vehicle beeped in response. They got in, she in the driver's seat, and Ezekiel beside her.
The engine started smoothly, and they pulled onto the road.
After a few minutes of silence, Ezekiel finally asked, "Where are we going specifically?"
"You'll see."
That did not help.
He noticed the direction she was driving. Instead of heading toward business districts or secluded areas, she was steering toward the side of the city market.
The market area consisted of small vegetable stalls, meat vendors, and local sellers shouting prices over one another. It was noisy, crowded, and chaotic.
They arrived and parked in a corner.
The moment they stepped out, the scent of fresh produce and raw seafood filled the air. Voices overlapped. Plastic bags rustled. Metal trays clanged.
Ezekiel followed Viola's lead as they walked through the middle of the busy marketplace.
He kept his posture relaxed, shoulders slightly slouched to hide his natural bearing. The oversized hood and glasses did their job well.
After a while, Viola suddenly stopped in front of a fish stall.
An elderly woman stood behind the display, guarding her neatly arranged fish on crushed ice. Her hands were wrinkled but steady, her expression sharp despite her age.
Viola removed her sunglasses and smiled warmly.
"Grandma," she greeted gently.
Ezekiel watched silently, sensing that this visit was not random at all.