The commission erupted when people saw Mr. Chen's lifeless body. I walked into the scene calmly, glancing at him once. No one suspected me. No one even noticed.
I turned toward the parking lot and opened my car door — but froze when a faint light flickered behind me.
Instinct. I ducked.
Bullets sliced the air where my head had been.
I rolled between cars, peeking for the source. A man in a mask. Not the one from the rooftop — this was someone new. He fired again, a silencer muffling the sound so the busy street stayed oblivious.
I moved low and silent, my steps light as feathers, until I slipped behind him. A sharp kick to his hand sent the gun skidding. Another to his gut folded him over. I cracked my neck slowly.
Rika: "Tell me who you are."
I sheathed my knife as I closed in. He spat blood, still calm, ready to fight. I frowned and shook my head.
Rika: "You should know… I was already frustrated and looking for a punching bag. Lucky you for volunteering."
He drew a thin sword, sharp enough to cut air. I tightened my grip on my knife and lunged.
His movements were clean, precise. Familiar. Too familiar.
Every swing, every dodge — it was like he already knew my moves. I blocked, kicked his leg to throw him off balance, and circled him, twirling my knife.
He looked up at me, still calm. Which made me even more curious.
Rika: "Tell me who you are, and maybe I'll let you go."
No reply. Just a smirk. Then — dust in my eyes.
I staggered back, coughing, and felt a punch slam into my gut. Pain flared hot. I kept my distance, listening instead of chasing. His steps were too loud for someone this skilled — easy to track.
Two steps forward. Slide.
Two steps forward. Slide.
The pattern was simple. I let him hit me — blows to my arms, my shoulder — until I had it memorized.
Then, as he came again, I slipped aside. His swing met empty air. My fist met his face.
The mask cracked with a satisfying snap. He groaned, holding his face. Blood streaked his cheek. I grabbed his neck.
Rika: "Tell me. Who are you? Why are you following me? What clan are you from?"
He smirked through the blood.
Guy: "You think you're worthy to know?"
A low growl escaped me. I slammed him into the wall.
Rika: "Maybe a little push will make you talk."
Instead, he laughed — low, dark, growing louder even with blood filling his mouth. My eyes caught on a small blood moon tattoo on his neck.
Guy: "You're just a small ant to Master!"
I twirled my knife, letting him talk.
Guy: "Blood is life. Eye is the river. Moon of the sky will find you."
The words made my skin prickle. Before I could press further, a shot rang out.
His head snapped back. He fell.
I ducked for cover, scanning rooftops, alleys — nothing. Whoever had fired was already gone.
I looked back at the body, rubbing my temple.
Rika: "Messy work… Blood is life. Eye is the river. Moon of the sky will find you…"
The words tugged at something deep inside me — something I'd forgotten. Something big.
I drove away, gripping the wheel, frowning. By the time I reached the mansion, the feeling hadn't faded.
My parents were in the training yard. Mother's eyes went straight to me — to the blood stains, the bruises, the dust still clinging to my lashes.
Mother: "What a messy way to greet your parents."
Her calm tone was worse than anger. She dusted my shoulder, circling me.
Rika: "Out-of-plan trouble. Mission's still clear."
Mother: "I see."
Her hand caught my chin, nails digging into my cheek.
Mother: "Triple your training. No more wasting time outside. Your eighteenth birthday is near. Do not embarrass us."
I didn't bow like usual. Father smirked.
Father: "Rebellious stage now?"
Rika: "If that's all, excuse me."
Mother: "The Crow accepted your application for the Sanguis Luane Imbrem. The Silent will attend as supervisors. No backing out now. You'll learn who your sacrifice is soon."
I went upstairs, her gaze suffocating, and shut the door.
This is so twisted.
---
Clarissa's POV
I paced my room, gripping my hair.
Clarissa: "What the hell… what the hell… WHAT the hell!"
I collapsed onto my bed, muffling a scream into my pillow.
Someone climbed onto my terrace. The masked man from the rooftop.
Clarissa: "Ramon!"
He smirked, stepped inside, and pulled off his mask.
Ramon: "Hmmm… what's with that face? Hahaha!"
I tried to shove him out. He laughed harder.
Clarissa: "WHAT! I don't have time for your nonsense!"
Ramon: "Easy, easy. Just checking on you… and maybe teasing you about that little act earlier."
I threw a clock at him. He dodged.
Ramon: "So… why did you kiss her? Is that what you call control?"
Clarissa: "It was just an act, you idiot!"
He tilted my chin.
Ramon: "Then why so affected? Don't tell me your own tactic backfired."
Clarissa: "Don't be ridiculous! I just feel disgusted, that's all."
Ramon: "Fine. Just making sure. Master's got high hopes for you."
My grip on the pillow tightened.
Clarissa: "How is he?"
Ramon: "He's fine. Always asks about you. Master says you can move to the next stage of the plan."
Clarissa: "Next stage? It was just a mistake—"
Ramon: "Mistake or not, it worked. She protected you earlier. Could've let you take my hit, but she shoved you out of the way first."
The truth sank in. I looked down.
Ramon: "Master will be happy if you leave a big scar on her. Good luck."
He was gone before I could respond.
Clarissa: "Great… now I have to pretend I like her?!"
I flopped back on the bed, tracing my pendant.
Clarissa: "Just a little more act… just a little more…"
A knock. Butler Laurence entered with a file.
Laurence: "Mila Clemson… is the second daughter of Crow's headmaster, Robert Clemson. Known as the Silent Princess."
I smirked.
Clarissa: "Not so easy indeed… Let's see how Rika reacts to this little secret."