The little girl wasn't sure of what to say next. She wanted to stay with Renzo—who wouldn't? He was kind to her, never forcing her to talk or act when she didn't want to.
Even when things got difficult, he kept trying to help.
He had even gone as far as looking for a Z Ranker to help him help her.
And his wife, Shizu… though she had scared her yesterday, Prism understood now that she was also a kind woman. After all, she had gone to the Information Market this very morning to look for information that might help her.
Add to it, Renzo was one of the strongest people in the Story World, ranked among the top thirty.
[Last Note of Black], the Hero of the People.
Seeing him up close, Prism could finally understand why people called him that. He was warm, patient, and powerful all at once—someone who felt safe to be around.
But still… she couldn't just ask him to protect her or let her live with him.
He was a Z Ranker—someone who traveled constantly from Fragment to another. Even from what little she'd heard of his conversation with [Owl], it was clear that he would be heading out again soon.
That was the truth that pressed against her chest.
The kind of truth that made her small fingers tighten around the edge of her seat as she quietly looked down, unsure of what to say… or what she was allowed to hope for.
She truly wanted to tell him everything.
Who she was. What her species was. What her Story Name was. Who her family was.
And most of all—who that mysterious man was, the one who'd told her that bad things would happen if she ever spoke, the one who had left her standing in that cold, dark alley yesterday.
But she couldn't.
Even the thought of revealing a single detail made her chest tighten.
It wasn't just fear—it was instinct, something deeper, as if the world itself would unravel if she tried.
She knew what would happen.
Chaos. Destruction.
She'd seen hints of it before.
Yes, she understood that [Last Note of Black] and [Owl] were both Z Rankers—giants of power among Players, legends whose names made entire cities whisper—but still, she was terrified.
Terrified of that man.
Terrified of what would follow if she disobeyed.
Why couldn't she just… end it?
Why couldn't she tell them the truth, when the solution was right in front of her?
Her lips trembled, her eyes lowered to the table, and the words caught in her throat like glass. She wanted to say she wanted to stay with him—to ask him to protect her, just for a little longer—but she couldn't.
So she stayed silent. And looked down.
Renzo leaned back slightly, eyes half-focused on the trembling girl beside him. He could see the hesitation in every breath she took, every twitch of her small hands.
It wasn't normal fear—no, this was something else entirely.
Something bone-deep.
'Just who is this man…?' he thought, his gaze drifting to her lowered head. 'What kind of person could make her this terrified when she's sitting right beside a Z Ranker?'
He glanced toward [Owl], who was still calmly eating his cake, as if the world could collapse around them and he wouldn't even flinch.
'And not just one,' Renzo continued in his mind, 'there are two Z Rankers here. I told her she'd be safe. I meant it. So why does she still look like she's seconds away from breaking down?'
His eyes narrowed slightly. 'Could it be someone stronger than both of us? Another Z Ranker maybe… someone from the top twenty?'
He thought back to the names that made even the strongest hesitate. 'The [Red Thorn] of the Crimson Archive? No… doesn't fit. She doesn't seem like someone who'd cross paths with that kind of monster.'
Then his mind went darker. 'Maybe someone from the top ten?' Faces flashed in his head—whispers, memories of power that warped Fragments.
'The [Grey Rose]... the [Gold Emperor]... no, that doesn't make sense either.'
And then, like a flicker of cold lightning, another name appeared. 'The [Dark Emperor]…?' His chest tightened at the thought. 'But why would he concern himself with a small F Ranker like Prism? She's just a child... unless—'
He stopped himself. His jaw tightened, and he leaned back again. 'No. It doesn't add up. It can't be him.'
His thoughts hung in the air like smoke. 'Then who? Or what? Was it even a Player?'
He stared at Prism again, the uncertainty gnawing at the edge of his calm expression. 'Just what are you so afraid of, little one…?'
Renzo's mind didn't rest. The more he tried to rationalize Prism's terror, the more tangled his thoughts became.
'It could be something other than Players,' he mused, eyes lowering as a faint glimmer of unease passed through them. 'Something with thought… with intent.'
The word surfaced in his mind like a whisper from the abyss—Endborns.
He remembered [Owl] once mentioning them, his tone colder than usual, 'He met one… didn't he? One of the three known Endborns.'
Renzo's hand tightened slightly against the table. 'But no… it wouldn't add up. Those beings leave death in their wake. [Owl] barely escaped with his life that time.'
He exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking toward the city below the balcony. The lights of the Black District shimmered like dying embers.
'So then… something else?'
His thoughts spiraled further, chasing threads that felt too faint to catch. 'Readers are already accounted for. They come from the Reader World and become Players when they enter the Story World. That's what made the [Grey Rose] what he is...'
He paused.
A different idea began forming in the back of his mind—something he hadn't thought of in a long while. 'But there's still them... the ones from that mysterious place... the Hiro World.'
The name echoed in his mind with a mix of curiosity and unease. 'Hiros... if I remember right, they can't truly walk in the Story World. They descend here through Avatars—living vessels they control.'
Renzo frowned. The more he recalled, the less sense it made. 'That's all I really know… and it's not enough.'
He looked down at Prism again, the gears in his mind still turning. 'Could she be connected to that world somehow?'
A moment later, his thoughts drifted to an old contact.
'Maybe I should ask the [Doors Master]... he'd know more about the Hiros. After all, the Antorio Family was rumored to have ties to them.'
He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as the question lingered heavier than before. 'Still… if this is what I think it is, then that girl isn't just lost. She's dangerous.'
Renzo shook his head faintly, the motion almost imperceptible, and let out a quiet breath before his fingers brushed against the smooth surface of his black mask.
A small, hidden smile curved beneath it.
"Hey," he said softly, his tone carrying that calm confidence that always seemed to ease people, "you don't have to answer if you're unsure. Really, it's fine. For now, just… let me handle things, alright? I'll take care of you until we find you a new home."
Prism's eyes widened slightly. "A… new home?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, the movement steady and reassuring. "Yeah. Somewhere safe, where you won't have to worry about anyone chasing you or scaring you. You'll grow up well there. And when you're older—say, thirteen or so—you can start your own journey as a Player in the Sea of Fragments."
Her gaze wavered, uncertain, but he kept talking, the light tone of his voice balancing the weight of his words.
"You'll get to play through Storylines, explore Fragments, become stronger little by little," he continued, his hand resting on the table, tapping once as if sealing a promise.
"And I'll even give you a few Cores to start with. A lot of them, actually. Enough to buy candy, sweets, or whatever you want. You know," he chuckled lightly, "being a Z Ranker comes with perks. Even one Z-Ranked Core is enough to keep you living comfortably for two lifetimes—if you're smart about how you use it."
He looked at her again, "So don't worry, Prism," he said quietly.
"You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."
Prism didn't know what to say. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.
Gratitude swelled in her chest—so strong it almost hurt.
Renzo had been nothing but kind to her since the moment they met. But the thought of an orphanage… of being surrounded by strangers again… it made her uneasy.
Would they even accept her there?
She wasn't like the others.
She didn't belong anywhere.
Her fingers fidgeted in her lap as her mind wandered.
Yes, she'd barely known him a day—not even that long—but she had read about him before. Renzo was a name whispered all over the Blue Trade Records, one of the famous Z Rankers of the Story World, the kind of person others looked up to but never really knew.
She didn't want to be separated from him.
That feeling alone frightened her—how quickly she'd grown attached. But she understood. She wasn't in any place to ask for more.
So she forced a small smile, her purple blush marks faintly glowing under her eyes as she looked up at him. "Thank you… Mister Renzo." Her voice was soft, trembling slightly, but honest.
Renzo saw it—the hesitation behind her gratitude, the faint sadness in her eyes she tried to hide.
Deep down, he knew what she wanted.
He wanted it too.
To tell her he'd take her in, protect her, raise her like family.
But he couldn't.
He exhaled silently behind the mask. He and Shizu were always on the move—crossing Fragments, fighting, negotiating, vanishing into one mission after another.
That wasn't a life for a child.
She deserved something better.
Something stable.
And if that meant finding her the safest, most peaceful orphanage in the entire Story World, then so be it. He would make sure it was perfect before sending her there.
He reached out, gently patting her head once, his gloved hand light but warm. "You'll be fine, Prism," he said softly. "I promise."
[Owl] had been quiet for most of the exchange, quietly observing the two.
His fork rested neatly beside an empty plate, eyes hidden beneath the faint reflection of the café's dim lights. Then, with a quiet exhale, he finally broke the silence.
"So," he said, his tone calm but edged with that familiar impatience, "do you have anything else to say, Renzo?"
Renzo blinked once, then leaned back slightly in his seat. "Huh? Are you asking me to leave already?" he replied, his voice carrying that teasing, dramatic tone that made even serious moments feel lighter.
[Owl] didn't flinch. "Yes," he said plainly, lifting his cup for one last sip before setting it down. "That's exactly what I'm asking. I have to make some calls—contact a few people, see if I can gather any intel on this whole situation."
He gestured vaguely toward Prism without looking at her, trying to sound casual, almost detached. "You know… concerning this little kid here."
To Prism, it probably sounded indifferent, cold even.
But to Renzo—who knew [Owl] far too well—the faint hesitation in his tone said otherwise.
[Owl] cared.
He just didn't want to sound like he did.
Renzo smiled behind his mask, nodding slightly. "Got it, got it. I appreciate it, [Owl]. How much will it cost me this time?"
"We'll discuss it later," [Owl] replied, sliding his chair back. "You know how I work."
Renzo chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes. I do."
[Owl] straightened his back, gave a polite nod to both of them, then turned.
His steps were slow, deliberate—each one echoing softly against the polished floor as he walked away from the table.
Renzo leaned back in his seat, the faint clink of porcelain echoing as he set his cup down. The masked Z Ranker tilted his head toward the girl beside him, the reflection of the faint blue lights from outside rippling across the surface of his mask like water.
"Want anything else?" he asked, his tone light, teasing. "A cake, maybe? The same one [Owl] ordered? Though I warn you, it's apparently dangerously sweet."
Prism quickly shook her head, her hair bouncing just a bit as she lowered the empty glass. "No, thank you... The juice was enough."
Renzo chuckled quietly, his gloved fingers tapping against the edge of his coffee cup. "Alright then, fair enough. I'll finish this and we can head somewhere else."
He took another slow sip before glancing toward her again. "For how long have you been in the fifth floor of the Black District?"
She froze a little, unsure of how to respond.
"Relax," Renzo said, raising a hand. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. How about this instead — would you like me to show you around today? I've got nothing else to do, and Shizu won't be back for a while."
"I— I don't want to bother you..." she mumbled.
He waved off the thought immediately. "Bother? Nah. Don't even think about it. Besides," he leaned closer, voice lowering into a playful whisper, "you really think a Z Ranker worries about spending a few Cores?"
That made her smile — a small, genuine one this time.
It hit her again just who she was sitting with. This wasn't some friendly D Ranker who happened to help her out. This was [Last Note of Black], one of the richest and strongest Players in the entire Story World.
And yet, he was sitting here — in a modest café, drinking cheap coffee, and inviting her out just to make sure she wasn't lonely.
She nodded, shyly at first. "...Okay. I'd like that."
Renzo's smile widened under the mask. "Good. Then it's decided, I'm gonna be a guide for today."
...
[Owl] moved through the tavern with the kind of silence that made sound itself retreat. Each of his steps was light, precise—like a whisper carried on the edge of a blade.
The Players scattered throughout the place were no amateurs; most were B Rankers and above, their presence thick with confidence and power.
But when they saw him, that confidence melted away.
Conversations broke off mid-sentence. Chairs creaked as people subtly shifted aside. A few even turned their backs and pretended to be busy with their food.
He was known—feared—as one of the thirty strongest Z Rankers in the entire Story World.
A man whose name alone could silence rooms.
A man who didn't need to fight to prove his Rank; his aura did that for him. Unlike Renzo, who walked with warmth, approachable and charismatic, [Owl] was a shadow that carried consequence.
No one wanted to catch his attention, not even by accident.
Even the members of the Cut, who had earlier dared to provoke Renzo, sank into their seats when they felt his presence closing in. Their laughter faded, their movements slowed.
One of them—a scarred SSS Ranker, the same man who had disrespected Renzo before—stiffened in his chair. His long black hair trembled ever so slightly as his jaw clenched.
He tried to act casual, to eat, but the spoon shook faintly between his fingers.
He dared not look up.
He could feel [Owl] approaching.
That pressure—the kind that reminded even the proudest that the line between SSS and Z was not a step but a chasm.
The air grew denser, colder, until even the sound of glasses clinking seemed distant.
[Owl] said nothing as he crossed.
He simply walked, unhurried and unbothered, his white-lensed mask gleaming faintly under the dim tavern lights. When he reached their table, he stopped—not directly beside it, but close enough that every soul in the room felt the pause.
And then… silence.
The entire tavern seemed to hold its breath.
The Players who had dared sneak glances found their eyes locked to the floor. It was as if even a blink would draw his gaze, and no one wanted that.
The members of the Cut froze completely.
The SSS Ranker's fork hovered halfway to his mouth, his knuckles white.
A single bead of sweat slid down his temple.
He tried to swallow but caught himself before making a sound. His heart hammered in his chest, loud enough he was sure everyone could hear it.
He remembered a warning—a voice from long ago.
His elder, an X Ranker in their Organization, had told him: "If you ever stand before a Z Ranker, you don't speak. You don't move. You breathe only when they allow it. Because for them… ending you is as easy as breathing."
And so, the SSS Ranker did nothing.
He sat there, perfectly still, pretending to be invisible, while [Owl] stood unmoving, silent as death itself.
He had dared to speak—even provoke—Renzo earlier. Another Z Ranker. Another name that could silence an entire city just by being mentioned.
Renzo was powerful, infamous, adored, and feared in equal measure—but the SSS Ranker had known what kind of man Renzo was.
A man who only acted when he had to.
Someone who brushed off insults like dust unless the line was truly crossed.
But the one standing before him now… was not Renzo.
[Owl] was a different breed entirely.
The silent assassin of the Story World—his reputation painted in blood and cold air. He wasn't the kind who tolerated disrespect, nor the kind who noticed it before ending it.
He simply decided what lived and what didn't.
Once, it was said, he fought one of the Thirteen Dukes who served the [Last Emperor]—a being counted among the ten mightiest in existence—and [Owl] had done it without hesitation.
He just… didn't care.
To [Owl], hierarchy meant nothing, rules meant nothing—only the cut between silence and consequence mattered.
The SSS Ranker sat frozen, realizing that even breathing too loudly might invite his death. He could feel the chill of the Z Ranker's presence crawling up his spine like a blade tracing his nerves.
Around them, no one spoke. Not a chair creaked, not a cup clinked.
The tavern stood still.
Then—[Owl] finally spoke. His voice wasn't raised; it was calm, almost quiet, yet it carried through the air like a verdict being passed.
"Filth should remain below," he said, each word deliberate, precise, cutting through the silence like a scalpel. "Filth should not speak to those above it… even when those above choose not to stain their hands."
That was all he said.
And yet, the weight of those words felt heavier than death itself.
The SSS Ranker didn't know whether to nod or to speak—his mind screamed for direction, but his body refused to move. His throat was dry, painfully dry, something that shouldn't even be possible for someone of his Rank.
Yet fear had a way of humbling even the powerful.
He understood now.
He shouldn't have provoked Renzo.
Even if Renzo had laughed it off, another Z Ranker might not.
Someone like [Owl]—who didn't forgive, didn't forget, and didn't care.
A single second passed.
It felt like years.
Finally, with trembling restraint, the SSS Ranker spoke, his voice breaking through the silence like a fragile thread, his gaze fixed to the ground.
"I… understand, sir."
[Owl] didn't so much as glance at him.
He stood still for another two seconds, the weight of his presence pressing against every chest in the room—then turned and resumed his walk, calm and unhurried, as if nothing had happened.
Each step echoed. Each breath held.
And until those quiet steps faded down the tavern stairs, no one dared to move.
Only when they confirmed he left did the room exhale in unison—an entire tavern of powerful beings letting out a single, shaky breath of relief.
"Is… is he really gone?" someone whispered.
A few heads turned toward the stairs, still half-expecting [Owl] to reappear. The air hadn't relaxed yet—it still carried that invisible weight, like the echo of a storm.
Another Player let out a nervous laugh. "I thought my heart stopped. Was it this tense when he came in earlier?"
"Yeah," someone else said, still shaking. "He just walked, and the whole place froze. Didn't even look at anyone."
A man at the corner chuckled uneasily, trying to break the tension. "Funny, huh? [Last Note of Black] walks in and the room feels warm, like—like you could walk up and say hi. [Owl] walks in and suddenly you're afraid to breathe."
The table shared a few nervous laughs, half genuine, half desperate.
But not everyone joined in.
The SSS Ranker sat there, staring at his half-finished plate, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Their chatter faded into a distant hum, meaningless noise to the storm brewing in his chest.
Humiliation burned through him—hot, heavy, and sharp. He could still feel that suffocating pressure lingering in his lungs, reminding him of how utterly powerless he'd been.
He was an SSS Ranker—feared, respected.
But not enough. Not even close.
He wasn't at the peak of his Rank yet, and above SSS came X… and above that, Z.
Z wasn't a step above—it was a world apart.
And [Owl]?
[Owl] wasn't just any Z Ranker.
He was one of the monsters that stood at the very top of the Story World.
The SSS Ranker's fists trembled under the table. The rage coiled inside him, silent and venomous, but he didn't move. Not a word. Not a twitch.
He couldn't afford to.
Not today.
...
Renzo set his cup down, a quiet chuckle slipping through as the tension in the air finally began to fade. Even here, he could feel the ripples of [Owl]'s presence—sharp, suffocating, and absolute.
Prism had felt it too. For just a heartbeat, her small chest had locked up, her pulse stopping cold.
The pressure that had rolled through the tavern wasn't something her body could even process; if an SSS Ranker couldn't breathe, what chance did an F Ranker like her have?
But then came warmth.
Renzo's aura, calm and steady, spread out like a quiet shield around her, washing away the fear before it could take root.
When she looked up at him, she could only whisper a small, shaky "thank you."
Renzo smiled behind his black mask. "It's nothing," he said lightly. "Though… that wasn't very nice of [Owl]. Still, I get what he was doing."
She tilted her head. "Doing?"
"Yeah," Renzo said, leaning back in his chair. "He wanted you to feel it. The difference between someone like us and someone like you. Not to scare you—just to show you how wide the gap really is."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "He… meant for me to feel it?"
Renzo nodded, taking another sip of coffee before answering, "Exactly."
She hesitated, then looked down at her hands. "Then… if you got angry… would you be as scary as him?"
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then Renzo laughed—soft, easy, almost gentle.
"That?" he said, setting his cup aside. "That wasn't [Owl] being angry. That was him being slightly annoyed. Not even much."
Prism blinked.
And as she sat there, trying to imagine what true anger from someone like that might feel like, she began to understand—just a little—the impossible distance that separated her world from theirs.
Renzo rose from his chair, brushing a bit of dust from his sleeve before glancing down at Prism. "Alright," he said, voice calm and steady. "Time to go—unless you'd rather stay a little longer?"
Prism shook her head quickly. "No, we can leave… but where are we going?"
Renzo shrugged lightly, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Not sure yet. Let's just get out of here first. I'll think about it on the way—after all, I'm your guide for today, right?"
That earned him a small, hesitant smile.
Prism nodded, her eyes softening as she rose to follow him.
When Renzo stepped forward, the tavern seemed to still for a heartbeat. Conversations dipped, chairs stopped creaking, eyes turned—every Player present instinctively aware of the quiet power that had just moved past them.
But then someone broke the silence, whispering to a friend, and the rest followed, voices picking up again when they realized Renzo wasn't paying them any mind.
His presence carried no pressure, no overwhelming aura—just the quiet grace of someone who didn't need to prove anything.
To them, he felt just like another ordinary Player passing through.
The SSS Ranker dared a brief glance in Renzo's direction but immediately looked away, jaw tightening. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
And just like that, Renzo and Prism descended the stairs together, disappearing into the distance.
—End of Chapter.
-------
Trial?
Renzo: Awwwww!!!
[Owl]: What?
Renzo: You do care about me, don't you? So adorable. The edgy [Owl] who doesn't care... Turns out to actually care!!
[Owl]: Do you want to die?
Gara: No no no, stop right now, did you forget we're in the middle of a trial because of this? Can you two not make it worse for yourselves?
Leif: I agree honestly, you two are too similar to us. Get your own thing please.
Renzo: Wow... We've fallen so low huh! Two mere E Rankers are talking back to us?
[Owl]: Stare.
Gara and Leif left the chat and went to hide in the White Clouds.