Chapter 210
TARGET (3)
IAM quickly cleaned up, wiping down the station and gathering the spent casings into the small bin nearby. Then he reloaded KASSARA with fresh rounds. The familiar clicks of metal sliding into place filled the empty room as he slid the mag in and gave it one last check before placing the weapon back into the holster strapped beneath the back of his blazer.
He looked around. At some point, the other two people had left. The building was now completely silent.
The air inside had a faint metallic scent—smoke, oil, spent gunpowder, and just the faintest trace of blood. IAM sniffed once, then turned and walked out, shoes tapping faintly on the floor.
He stepped back into the open layout of the training complex. The hallways stretched out in multiple directions, each one branching into specialized zones—separate, self-contained environments built for different kinds of training. Each hall led to its own little world. All of it designed to raise budding geniuses into beasts.
IAM walked until he arrived at one of the water stations built along the corridor wall. The structure was plain—dark gray, bolted into the wall, with a row of taps spaced evenly apart and a slightly slanted steel basin beneath to catch the runoff. Above it, a dull mirror was bolted into the wall, scratched and fogged in places, it was clean enough to see your reflection if you wanted to.
He leaned forward over one of the taps, twisted the handle, and let the cold water run over his hands before splashing it onto his face.
The sting hit instantly—water meeting his skin, sweat, and the dried blood clinging beneath his nose and lips. He kept going, washing the blood away, clearing his face of the physical signs of failure, and maybe a bit of frustration.
He stayed there a moment longer, letting the water run, the coldness sinking into his skin and calming the leftover tension in his head.
Then he shut it off and shook his head, droplets scattering across the steel basin. He straightened up, took a breath, and walked off without looking in the mirror.
He'd go back to his dorm, take a proper shower, maybe eat something if he had the time. And then—another long night with Henry.
As he turned around to leave the vicinity, he found himself face to face with Natsuki.
He stopped. Just for a second.
It took him a moment to process. He hadn't seen her since that day at the tournament—since the match where he'd surrendered before the fight had even started.
Back then, he'd done it to hide his level. It had made sense at the time. But judging from the way she'd looked at him, it was clear she hadn't taken it that way.
From her perspective, he hadn't even activated his Avien. He hadn't intended to fight at all. That, to her, had said everything.
It had come off as rude. Disrespectful, even.
To surrender after exchanging a few blows—that was one thing. That was still a fight. But to not engage at all? To shut down his Avien before the match began? That made it seem like he hadn't taken her seriously. Like he couldn't be bothered.
He remembered her face clearly. It had been mostly blank, her expression unreadable as always, but her eyes—there had been a flash of disgust and distaste.
And she had walked off the stage without another word.
Now, standing here in the hallway two weeks later, he found himself wondering whether she'd been avoiding him. He'd been all over the campus because of his punishment—passing through a lot of buildings—but not once had he crossed paths with her.
It was probably just coincidence. A matter of timing. The campus was huge, after all.
Not that IAM particularly minded not seeing her...
Now that he was actually looking at her, she looked exactly the same as the last time he'd seen her.
She stood at around five-foot-five, with a deceptively soft frame. At first glance, she didn't look like someone who could fight, but IAM knew better. Hidden underneath her academy training gear was skin was the palest IAM had ever seen, almost unnaturally so. It wasn't sickly, just... striking. Like moonlight on snow.
In contrast, her lips were a vivid, deep pink. They stood out against her pale skin, sharp and almost unnatural in how much they drew the eye.
Her hair was jet-black, like ink spilled across a blank page. It fell down her back in a long, straight curtain, not a strand out of place.
And her eyes... they were fixed on him. Deep brown, but just barely—there was a golden tint near the center, something almost glowing, like sunlight trapped behind tinted glass. There was something about them that made it hard to look away.
Her usual expression was there: blank, cool and unreadable. She always looked like she was floating just slightly outside reality, like her mind was somewhere else entirely. It gave her an almost dreamlike presence.
Yeah… she looked exactly the same. But this time, there was a thin sheet of sweat on her skin—barely noticeable, but it caught the light just enough to give her a faint shimmer. Like moonlight reflecting off glass.
A strange silence settled between them. Neither moved. Neither spoke.
IAM cleared his throat lightly.
"Where's your friend… Zara?" he asked, trying to fill the gap.
Natsuki didn't answer right away. She just glanced past him, then said flatly, "You're blocking the way."
IAM almost broke into a chuckle. The hallway was more than wide enough for three people to walk side by side. If she wanted to pass, she easily could've.
So she was being a little petty... It was almost cute.
Still, he flashed a smile. just a small, polite gesture, more out of habit than hope.
She didn't return it.
IAM stepped out of the way without another word. She walked past him without hesitation, her shoulder nearly brushing his. As she did, he caught a faint trace of her scent. It lingered for only a second before she was already walking away, the soft sound of her footsteps fading behind him.
He watched her go.
IAM sighed, resigned...She really did seem to dislike him.
Not that it mattered. After the competition, plenty of people had started looking at him differently. He was getting used to it.
He turned and made his way out of the combat grounds. The air outside felt colder now, though maybe that was just in his head.
One of the mini-cars sat waiting near the edge of the platform. He climbed in without thinking.
The engine hummed to life, and the car pulled away smoothly, carrying him back toward the dorm.