"Are you ready to leave?"
Maya asked softly as she pulled her brother's backpack from the chair beside the bed. The straps dangled from her small hands, the weight of it almost too much for her, yet she held it firmly. It had been two long days since Isaac woke up. His wounds weren't fully healed—bandages still wrapped tightly around his arms and chest—but the doctors had finally cleared him to leave.
"Yeah, I'm ready," Isaac replied. His voice was calm, but there was a faint edge of weariness in it. He straightened his clothes, tugging at the wrinkles as if it would somehow make him look less fragile, then stepped forward to walk with his sister.
Outside the hospital doors, their uncle Jake was waiting. His figure looked heavier than usual, weighed down not by his build, but by exhaustion. His eyes were dark, swollen from sleepless nights, and his posture slouched as though the world had pressed on his shoulders. But the moment his gaze landed on the two of them, a wave of relief softened his face.
To him, Isaac and Maya were more than just his late brother's children—they were his own. He had already lost family once, and the thought of losing them too was something he couldn't even allow himself to imagine.
Isaac walked toward him, hesitating for only a second before wrapping him in an awkward hug. His arms didn't fully tighten around Jake, but the gesture was enough.
"I'm okay. Don't worry, Uncle Jake," Isaac murmured, patting his uncle's back with a softness that contrasted the usual sharpness in his tone.
Maya came forward without a word, slipping her small hand into Jake's rough, trembling one.
Jake's lips twitched into a faint smile, the fatigue in his eyes softening for a brief moment. He guided them toward the taxi parked at the curb. "Let's go home," he said, pulling the door open and steadying Isaac as he climbed inside.
---
The taxi ride was quiet, the air thick with the faint scent of leather and fuel. The only sound was the crackling voice of the radio.
"We have invited the famous S-rank hunter, the Silver Slasher, today to tell us more about the incident."
Isaac's jaw tightened. He turned his head toward the driver and muttered, "Can you change the radio station?"
He was sick of it. Day after day, the same stories, the same recycled words. Reports about the academy. Reports about the system believers. On some level, Isaac understood why—the people were terrified, desperate for reassurance. But what gnawed at him was the hollow praise for so-called heroes who had done nothing.
Blade. A fraud in disguise.
The Silver Slasher. A man who showed up when it was already too late.
"Mr. Mark, can you tell us more about that rumor? The one about the brave students who fought to protect the academy…?"
The driver's hand lifted toward the dial, but before he could twist it, Isaac jolted forward. His hand shot out, gripping the driver's wrist.
His thoughts were spiraling. No. No. No. No.
"What's wrong, kid? I thought you wanted me to change it," the driver asked gruffly, annoyance in his tone.
"Ah… excuse him," Jake cut in quickly, offering a strained smile to the driver. "He just got out of the hospital. It's fine, don't change it."
On the radio, Mark's calm, steady voice continued:
"What you heard isn't a rumor—it's true. Thanks to some brave students, the damage was minimized."
Isaac sank back against the seat. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as his teeth ground together. Something inside him twisted—he could feel it. This wasn't over. Something troublesome was coming.
"The full story should be out as soon as the investigation is over," Mark added. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very important appointment."
And just like that, the interview ended.
"We're here," the driver announced flatly.
"Th-thank you," Jake said quickly, fumbling to pay the fare.
Isaac and Maya stepped out first, Jake following close behind as they made their way toward the worn, peeling walls of their rundown apartment building.
---
In front of the entrance, a small group of people waited. The instant they caught sight of Isaac, they rushed forward in a flurry of footsteps and shuffling papers.
Jake immediately moved, placing himself in front of Isaac and Maya like a shield.
"Hello, you're Isaac, right?" one of the men asked, his voice uncertain.
"Yes, I am. So what?" Isaac snapped, his eyes narrowing with barely restrained anger.
The group faltered, their courage shrinking under his glare. Then, nervously, one by one, they extended business cards toward him.
Jake glanced at Isaac and misread the look on his nephew's face. He thought the boy was afraid, when in truth Isaac was only annoyed. Jake's jaw tightened. Straightening his tall frame, he puffed out his chest and snatched the cards from their hands.
With his towering height, unkempt beard, and cold glare, he radiated intimidation. The group shuffled backward uneasily, their breaths quickening.
Jake stepped forward, the weight of his presence pressing down on them. His voice came out low and sharp, each word like ice.
"Back. Away. Now."
The man at the front paled instantly. "O-oh, s-sorry!" he stammered before stumbling back, tripping over his own feet as he bolted. The others quickly followed, scattering in panic.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Jake turned his head, only to find Isaac and Maya standing there, grinning as they clapped their hands.
"That was so cool," Maya said, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
Jake let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Shall we go inside now?" he asked gently.
Isaac and Maya exchanged a quick smirk, the tension fading.
"Yeah… let's do that," Isaac said with a faint smile as they stepped toward the door together.