Makazhar City never truly sleeps.
Even when the lights of the skyscrapers begin to dim and the main streets slowly grow quiet, something else starts to move.
Something that never appears in police reports, never shows up on the news, and is never discussed in the city government's meeting rooms.
A thin, nearly invisible energy drifts through the night air like mist.
Some people might only feel a sudden chill.
Others get the strange sensation that someone is watching them.
But only a handful truly know what is really happening.
Beneath the night sky, a young man dressed in black moved like a living shadow—slipping between towering buildings, narrow alleys, gaps between trees, even the tightest corridors.
His blood-red eyes scanned every inch of the territory he passed. Fast—yet not a single detail escaped his notice.
Al.
Tonight, he was inspecting the patrol sectors under his organization's control.
What he was doing was only a small part of a much larger operation.
A magical combat organization made up of people abandoned by fate itself—an organization he personally led.
They operated independently, completely unaffiliated with any government, faction, or force. Because in truth, they could never belong to any of them.
It was as if they no longer existed as part of this world.
A hidden organization born from a shared goal:
To defy the fate imposed upon them.
To find a cure for the thing they called a curse.
And to make sure no other unfortunate soul would ever have to suffer the same fate.
Patrolling and eliminating spiritual threats was simply one of the many steps toward that goal.
There were seven patrol points spread across Makazhar City. Seven surveillance zones.
His gaze swept through every area he passed.
So far, he hadn't taken action himself.
He let his troops handle the routine problems, only stepping in when the danger rose to a level that truly required his intervention.
The first patrol point was in Dayyak District, in the northern part of the city—an Old Market.
Makazhar's Old Market still preserved much of its traditional atmosphere, even though parts of it had been modernized.
Narrow alleys lined with old wooden stalls still stood strong, side by side with a few newly installed street lamps casting a dim yellow glow.
It was a place quite familiar to someone who had once spent part of his childhood on the streets.
Someone like Al.
Tonight, the market was almost empty.
The trading tents were tightly closed. The smell of rotting vegetables mixed with the salty scent of the sea carried by the night wind.
Al landed quietly on the roof of one of the taller buildings around the area.
Not very tall—but high enough to give him a wide view of the entire market alley.
The moment he arrived—
A faint sound reached him.
A fight had already begun.
A magical barrier covered the area, large enough to contain a battle between the rows of narrow stalls.
Three figures dressed in black uniforms similar to Al's moved swiftly, circling a dark creature floating low in the air.
The creature was nearly two meters tall.
Its body looked like dense black mist, constantly shifting and changing shape. Its face had no clear features—only two glowing red points burning like embers in the darkness.
"This spirit is close to fully materializing… and it's pretty wild," a girl's voice said.
Two medium-built men stood at the front line, each holding short swords.
Their movements were sharp and synchronized—maintaining distance, taking turns drawing the creature's attention while setting up counters and ambush strikes.
On the other side, a girl stood with empty hands, quietly observing from the shadows between the market stalls.
Waiting for an opening.
Al simply watched in silence.
The two men launched a coordinated attack, their blades striking from opposite sides.
The creature took a solid hit, its misty body tearing apart for a moment—but it immediately turned to retaliate.
Unfortunately for it, that created the perfect opening.
"Now!" the two men shouted at the same time.
The girl moved instantly.
A faint gray energy had already formed in her hand—and she hurled it toward the creature.
Whoosh!
The spell pierced straight through the creature's mist-like body and struck its core, which it had only just begun trying to shield while attempting its counterattack.
The core shattered instantly.
One of the men quickly pulled out a small black metal sphere, about the size of a marble.
He pressed a tiny button on it.
A white light spread outward, forming a small circular seal filled with intricate magical formulas.
At the edge of its destruction, the creature let out a shriek as the mist that made up its body was bound by the energy pattern of the device.
Then its entire form was pulled inside the sphere.
"Gotcha!"
"Captured."
They cheered.
The fight had been quick.
Not elegant. Not dramatic. But their coordination was solid.
On the rooftop above, Al remained standing quietly. His eyes swept over the three of them once more.
"Their coordination is getting better."
The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
Then he turned away.
"Not bad," he added.
Without a sound, his body leapt across to another rooftop, his shadow disappearing among the dark silhouettes of the buildings.
Not a single one of them realized that someone had been watching their fight the whole time.
---
Not long after, Al arrived at the second point—a small village corner on the edge of the forest.
It was about ten kilometers from the first location, but he covered the distance in only a few minutes.
The small village stood right at the border of Makazhar's territory. A few simple wooden houses were scattered irregularly across the area, separated by small fields and narrow dirt paths.
In the distance, the forest trees rose like a dark wall beneath the night sky.
There were barely any lights here.
Only the faint glow of a few houses that still kept their lanterns burning.
The night wind carried the smell of damp soil and forest leaves.
When Al arrived and landed lightly on a thick branch of a large tree at the edge of the village—
Unlike the previous location, the situation here seemed almost finished already.
On the dirt road below, two people were confronting a man who looked completely panicked.
The man appeared to be in his forties. His clothes were messy and wrinkled. In his hand was a small knife—whether meant for ritual purposes or… fighting was unclear.
He was a shaman. A practitioner of dark magic.
A young man stood right in front of him, a dagger pressed against his throat.
"It's over," the young man said coldly. "You have no way out."
Behind him stood another young man with his arms crossed.
His expression was calm. Almost bored.
"This guy has already been subdued twice and he still hasn't learned," he complained.
"I told you to just use safe magic. Why do you always have to cause trouble with forbidden rituals?"
Then he casually patted the head of a little girl standing behind him. She looked terrified, hiding behind his body.
"And now you're trying to sacrifice a little girl like this… you really are—"
The shaman could only stare in shock.
He recognized them. These were the same people who had captured him once before.
Even after relocating, they had still managed to find him again.
Now he had no idea what would happen to him.
"I've learned my lesson—please forgive me! I won't do it again! This is the last time! Please, sir, forgive me!" he begged desperately.
The two young men exchanged glances, silently communicating about what they should do next.
They were annoyed and wanted to end this once and for all.
But they hesitated.
They were only ordinary troops. They didn't have the authority to pass judgment.
Unlike dealing with spirit creatures, dealing with a human practitioner required more careful consideration.
Right now, their decision was to capture the shaman and bring him back to their superiors.
But—
Slash!
The begging shaman suddenly went silent.
His head fell to the ground.
Dead.
One of the uniformed young men quickly covered the little girl's eyes.
Neither of them had realized what had just happened. It was simply too fast.
But when another voice spoke, they immediately understood.
"Why were you hesitating?"
The lazy voice carried an unmistakable authority.
Al.
The moment they realized who it was, the two young men instantly dropped to their knees.
"Master," they said in unison.
They lowered their heads again.
"Forgive us, Master. We're still not reliable enough."
Al gestured for them to stand.
His expression remained lazy, as if the killing he had just committed was completely insignificant.
Even when he did it, there hadn't been the slightest trace of killing intent—as if killing that shaman was no different from killing a cockroach.
He let out a small yawn.
"Relax," he said lazily. "Just understand this for the future. When a case has already reached this point… someone like that deserves to be eliminated."
While speaking, he casually wiped the blood from his index finger—the finger he had used to kill.
"…so don't hesitate next time. Do it immediately."
He flicked the last drop of blood away.
"Moving fast and being efficient—that's our style."
The two subordinates nodded silently, accepting the lesson.
Meanwhile, Al crouched down and looked at the little girl.
She instinctively stepped back. She didn't understand anything that had happened. To a child her age, everything just felt terrifying.
Al didn't seem particularly concerned.
With a small spell, he gently put the girl to sleep, rendering her unconscious.
Then he placed a finger against her temple, channeling a faint white magical energy into her mind.
Advance Magic : Memory Manipulation
When he pulled his finger back, a wave of gray-golden energy flowed out from her head, following his finger.
Al stood again and spoke to his subordinates.
"I've adjusted her memories. Her mental trauma should be stable now. But the physical trauma might still affect her."
He pulled out a small bracelet with the seven stars symbol and handed it to them.
"Return her to her family. Let her wear this. It will help with the trauma."
The two subordinates bowed and accepted the order.
Meanwhile, Al simply turned around lazily and left for the next patrol point—while the two soldiers bowed once more behind him.
---
Al continued past the remaining patrol points.
The third point was near the northeastern forest outskirts of the city—an area even darker and more isolated.
The fourth point was along the Makazhar River, which connected the northeastern forest to the eastern and southeastern parts of the city.
Then the fifth point—an industrial warehouse district in the south.
The sixth point was deeper into the southern zone as well, near a residential–industrial area, on the rooftop of one of the larger buildings.
And the seventh point lay at the western edge of the city.
Aside from the fourth point—where his troops had dealt with a sacrificial shaman—the rest of the locations had all been dealing with hostile spirits.
Al personally stepped in at the sixth point, where a particularly strong malicious entity had appeared.
Fighting so close to a residential area made things tricky, but in the end he and two of his subordinates managed to eliminate the threat without causing major casualties.
As for the other locations, just like the earlier ones, the situations were already nearly resolved.
So Al didn't interfere.
Eventually, on top of a tall building near the seventh patrol point, he met two of his subordinates.
Unlike the others, the two looked more like supervisors rather than field operatives.
Much like Al himself, they would only step in if a situation escalated to a high danger level.
One of them was a man slightly taller than Al. Slim, yet clearly well-built.
A few strands of silver-white hair slipped out from under his hood, faintly glowing under the moonlight. His posture and demeanor were sharp and elegant.
Sebastian. The same subordinate who had been disguised as a teacher a few chapters earlier.
The other was a little shorter, but far bulkier. His style was far more casual—almost awkward—but there was still a clear firmness in his presence.
Michaelis. The same subordinate who had been working undercover as a school guard a few chapters earlier.
"Almost all patrol points have been secured, Master," Sebastian reported. "The rest are just follow-ups. The teams can handle it."
"We've also secured the other shaman and brought him to Ataris for further processing," Michaelis added.
"As for the corpse of the shaman you killed earlier, we've arranged things. The police will assume it was a death caused by a wild animal."
Al nodded lazily.
Soon, casual conversation followed between the three of them—briefly discussing the operation's results and, naturally, their earnings.
Especially, the corpses. After all, the corpses of dark creatures were valuable commodities among magic practitioners.
Collecting them, selling them, or using them for magical purposes—such as brewing potions or crafting weapons—was a major source of profit.
Eventually, however, Al felt that something was missing.
Not the mission. Not the results. But someone he hadn't seen yet among the patrol group assigned to Makazhar City.
"Irvan… I haven't seen him," Al said. "As the commander of this patrol operation, he hasn't reported to me yet. Have either of you seen him?"
Michaelis shook his head.
Sebastian remained silent for a moment.
Neither of them had seen Irvan either.
Just then, two young women approached after finishing their operation at the seventh patrol point.
They knelt before Al and reported the results of their mission.
And finally… they mentioned Irvan.
"Commander Irvan was with us earlier," one of them said. "But he moved toward the southern edge of the city. He sensed something unusual there."
The two women bowed their heads again.
"The commander asked us to deliver that message. Our apologies, Master. We only just relayed it now," the other added.
Al understood and didn't make an issue out of it.
Instead, he turned his gaze southward.
Activating his magic sense, he extended it far—very far—toward the city's southern boundary.
Trying to detect what kind of target Irvan had encountered that made him leave without reporting directly… and why he still hadn't returned.
As he analyzed the situation—
His eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed sharply.
The lazy smile on his face faded, replaced by something far more serious.
"Ohoo… I think we should hea—"
Before he could finish his sentence, an uneasy feeling surged through him. It came so suddenly that he froze mid-word.
His four subordinates exchanged confused glances. Something was clearly wrong.
Sebastian was about to step forward and ask what had happened to Al.
But then—
From Al's back, a crimson light suddenly flared.
The seven-star symbol on his back ignited, blazing as if it were burning.
Even his special uniform couldn't suppress the red glow leaking through it.
"Danger!" Al said in a rare hint of panic. His expression was tense, emotions overflowing. His teeth clenched tightly.
Sebastian and Michaelis immediately understood. They knew exactly what the symbol on Al's back meant.
Serious expressions instantly appeared on both their faces.
Meanwhile, the two female subordinates didn't fully understand how the high-ranking members of their organization operated. They could only stand there, watching in silence.
Al shot a sharp glance at the two men.
Without wasting a single second—
"Let's go!"
He burst forward at full speed toward the massive threat that had triggered the warning.
The two men followed instantly, almost as fast as him—
as if being even a second late would be fatal.
Leaving the two female subordinates standing there, stunned and anxious.
---