Grimm leaned back, letting them all talk first, but his eyes kept darting between the three of them.
He could see it... their minds weren't simple.
Every word was calculated, not a single one of them spoke without thinking what it meant in the long run.
Haoran was the first to put it into numbers, as if they were gambling on a board game.
"Right now our chances of actually getting out of here is zero point something. Not even one percent. Everything we do is under their eyes."
He tapped his temple, his voice low and steady. "But they're raising us for a reason. That means they'll keep us alive until we're useful. Which also means… there will be cracks."
Qin giggled softly, resting her chin on her palm. "Cracks, hm? You sound so certain, Haoran. But maybe you're right."
Her eyes darted at Grimm briefly, and her smile widened.
"And some of us might even be poison to the hand that holds us."
Grimm clicked his tongue and finally spoke, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.
"Don't look at me like that. Just because I got stuck with this damn centipede doesn't mean I can magically pull the poison out of your guts tomorrow." He rubbed the scar on his neck unconsciously.
"Even if I could, I'd need time. A lot of it. Right now, the only thing that matters is survival. Focus on the Sloth Breathing. If we can hide, move, and kill like they want us to, that's our cover until we're strong enough to test anything."
Hui finally spoke, and unlike the others, her voice was slow and deliberate, as if she wanted every word to sink in.
"Grimm is right. If we rush, we die. They wouldn't be so careless as to rely on only one leash. The poison keeps us in check for now. But later? There will be more. Brainwashing, stronger poisons, maybe seals or marks we can't even sense yet. We have to expect that. Which means—" she paused, her gaze sweeping across all three of them, "—we stay low. We act like perfect students. We take every scrap of training they give, and we keep our thoughts buried where no one can see."
Haoran nodded slowly, smirking as if he approved of her pragmatism. "Exactly. Survival first. Grow sharper, stronger, until the leash isn't strong enough to hold us."
The room went quiet again, but this silence was different. It wasn't suspicion anymore... it was something like an unspoken pact.
Grimm glanced at their faces, one by one.
'Damn… kids our age shouldn't be talking about this. Shouldn't be thinking about survival like it's the only thing left...'
The four of them separated without another word, each drifting toward their own corner as if it was instinct. The room was small, cramped even, but for children like them it felt just enough—four walls, cold stone floor, and silence heavy enough to make their own breathing echo.
There were no beds. No mats. Just the ground. Grimm curled up near the wall, pulling his knees close as if the stone might soften if he pressed himself against it long enough.
He glanced at the thin booklet they had been given, its pages more like stitched scraps than a proper book.
On it were diagrams and crude lines of text, the so-called Sloth Breathing Technique.
He squinted, reading the passage again. 'Breathe as little as possible. Breathe so small, so shallow, that even your own ears cannot hear it.'
Grimm sat upright and tried it.
He inhaled carefully, lips sealed tight, and then let the air leak out so faint it almost felt like holding his breath.
Pshhh.
The smallest hiss escaped. He cursed under his breath, then tried again.
This time, slower. Smaller. He forced his lungs to move like slugs crawling over stone, deliberate and fragile. His chest barely rose.
And strangely, he could feel it... his own presence thinning. The faint hum of Ael in his body grew softer, like his very soul was wrapping itself in cloth to hide from the world.
But still, his head spun.
His body screamed for more air, his chest tightening until he had to suck in a sharp gulp.
"Hhhaaah—" He coughed and pressed a hand against his chest.
'What the hell? If I keep breathing like that, won't I just suffocate? Doesn't the body need oxygen to stay alive?'
He frowned, frustrated, but forced himself back into it.
Small breath in.
Small breath out.
The urge to gasp was strong, his muscles twitched from the lack of air, but he ignored it, pushing himself to continue.
He felt lightheaded, but at the same time there was a strange clarity crawling into his bones. His steps, if he moved, would be quieter. His presence dimmer.
It was insane. But it worked.
Grimm opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, lips still parting for that almost-invisible breath.
'This is going to kill me if I can't get it right. But if this is the foundation… then I don't have a choice.'
'How ironic. They called it Sloth Breathing, but it was anything but lazy. Every moment felt like wrestling against my own lungs.'
Grimm sat cross-legged, spine against the wall, forcing the technique again and again.
The faint streams of Ael trickled through him with each shallow breath. It was subtle, but he could feel it gathering... not loudly.
'Even the Ael is hiding itself… but I don't know if it actually works or if I'm just suffocating myself.'
He opened his eyes after what felt like hours. The room was dim, the faint crystal light spilling shadows against the walls. His gaze moved to the others.
Haoran sat upright, jaw stiff, his chest barely moving. His breathing was quieter than before, but Grimm could still sense him there.
Hui, the short-haired girl, was calm and steady, adjusting herself after every attempt as if she was solving a puzzle in her own head.
Then his eyes fell on Qin.
She sat with her back straight, ponytail brushing her shoulders, face perfectly composed.
Her lips barely parted, chest unmoving... if he didn't already know she was there, he would've thought the corner was empty.
Her presence, the faint stir of life he should feel from another person, was thinning.
'Tch… already? It's just a day and she's like this? Her presence is vanishing completely.'
He frowned, unsettled and fascinated at the same time.
'She might really have the talent for this. Which means she'll be even more dangerous later.'
Grimm leaned his head back against the cold stone wall, forcing his breathing to slow again.
His chest rose only slightly, air slipping through his nose in the tiniest streams. But he could feel something off, his lungs ached too quickly, his head grew light faster than it should.
'No… I'm wasting air somewhere. The pattern's uneven.'
Closing his eyes, he turned his focus inward. The faint wisps of Ael clung to the rhythm of his breath, swirling through his chest and stomach.
He pictured it like threads of smoke, thin and fragile, pulling in and out with each breath. But the flow was jagged... one side stronger, the other weaker, dispersing before it could settle.
'I'll focus on my senses.'
Ever since consuming that cursed essence, his perception of movement, vibrations, flows, had sharpened. Now, he applied it inward.
He felt the tiny tremors of air scraping his throat, the way his diaphragm tightened unevenly, the gaps where Ael slipped away instead of sinking into him.
'Too fast on the inhale… too sharp on the exhale. I need to smooth it out. Like water dripping, not splashing.'
He adjusted. Drew in a fraction slower, stopped halfway before his chest strained, then let it slip out, controlled, nearly soundless.
This time the Ael didn't scatter. It pooled, sinking deeper, coating his ribs and spine with a faint weightless hum.
'Better. Keep it steady.'
His shoulders wanted to rise, but he forced them down. He listened to the faint echo of blood rushing in his ears, the muffled sound of his own heart.
Minutes crawled. His throat burned, his nose felt clogged with invisible weight.
But then—finally—the flow evened. The Ael circulated like a hidden current, curling through his body without leaking away.
'There. It's like I'm barely breathing at all, but… I'm still fine. Just enough air. Just enough Ael. This is it.'
A strange clarity settled over him. His body stopped fidgeting, his mind no longer panicked for air.
He opened his eyes slowly. The light in the room seemed dimmer, as though even his presence had withdrawn into the stone.
'So this is the right way...'
For the first time since starting, Grimm felt he was getting it.