The room was dim, filled with the low buzz of an old fan.
That boss sat behind his desk, the faint glow of a desk lamp slicing across his sharp eyes.
He held a photo in his hand, staring at it in silence—so still it felt like even time held its breath.
The brother, standing nearby, shifted uneasily.
"Uh… Sir Viktor? What's wrong? You know him or something?"
Viktor didn't reply. His gaze stayed glued to the picture, expression unreadable.
Then, without warning, he turned the photo toward Raze.
"Look at this," Viktor said in that calm, deep tone of his. "Ad—hot chick, two kilometers away."
Bully's brother froze.
"…What?"
Viktor leaned back slightly, still dead serious. "You heard me. Two kilometers. Blonde. Probably single."
Bully's brother groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
"Don't mess around like that, boss. You got me curious for a second."
Viktor's lips curved into a lazy grin.
"You're too easy to mess with, Raze" he said, letting out a low laugh.
Viktor smirked, eyes still on the photo. "Curiosity keeps you alive, Raze. But fine…"
He leaned back in his chair, voice calm and dismissive. "You can go on. Take care of your stuff. Be back before I get bored."
Raze raised a brow. "Yeah, yeah. Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Viktor replied, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
Raze muttered under his breath as he walked out.
Outside, he slipped on his black glasses and sank into his car seat with a sigh.
…
Elsewhere-
A pitch-black darkness.
Gunshots echoed in the void — flashes of light, steel clashing, voices screaming, blades cutting through the air.
Then—
Eira jolted awake, sweat running down her temple. Her breathing was heavy, eyes wide for a moment before she blinked it away.
Just another dream.
She sat up, brushed her hair back, and exhaled softly before heading to the sink. The cold water hit her face, pulling her back to reality. A normal morning routine followed — a quiet kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the air, the sound of her cup clinking against the counter.
As she got ready for college, her mind drifted back… to that day.
A faint flashback played in her thoughts — Noel standing there, against that bully who was hurting that girl.
Eira had been watching from afar, not really meaning to, but her eyes couldn't leave him.
She didn't know why he stood up for that girl… or why it even bothered her this much.
She didn't really understand why it stayed in her mind. Maybe it was the way he didn't hesitate. Or maybe… the way he looked after it was over.
Lost in thought, watching the college from a distance.
Then she saw him.
Noel.
Walking in — one hand in his pocket, the other holding his bag, a faint smile on his face as if nothing had happened.
But the bandages on his arm and the faint bruise on his cheek told another story.
Eira blinked.
He's still coming to college after that?
Without realizing, her feet started moving.
"Hey," she called out softly.
Noel turned, a little surprised. "Oh… Eira?"
She gave a small nod. "You, okay?"
He scratched his head, smiling like it was nothing.
"Yea, just having a little downfall lately."
"That's your way of saying you got hurt?" she raised an eyebrow.
He laughed quietly. "Something like that. Guess I picked the wrong fight this time."
"I see…" she said, her tone half-teasing. "But isn't there a missing part in that story? The part where you take on a whole group alone?""
He looked at her for a moment, amused. "If you already know, why ask like that?"
Eira smirked. "Because it sounds better when the main character tells it himself."
"Hah. Main character, huh? Didn't know I got promoted."
"Well," she said, walking beside him, "you did play the hero role yesterday. Might as well enjoy the title."
He glanced at her, his smile softening. "You were watching?"
She hesitated for a second. "…Maybe. From a distance."
Noel chuckled. "So, I had an audience. Great."
"Don't flatter yourself," she replied quickly, trying to hide her smile. "I was just… curious."
"About me?"
Eira looked away. "About why you'd step in for someone you barely know."
Noel thought for a moment. "Guess I just didn't like seeing someone cry. That's all."
"…That's kind of nice," she said quietly.
He grinned. "You make it sound like I did something good."
"Didn't you?" she said.
"I just… didn't think much. My body moved before my brain could stop it."
"Hmm," Eira said with a small smile. "That's usually how trouble starts."
"Yeah, but sometimes… trouble's worth it." Noel said with a laughing smile.
Eira looked at him, caught off guard by the calm way he said it. For a moment, she didn't reply.
Then she smiled faintly. "You're weird."
He chuckled softly. "And yet… here you are talking to me."
Eira crossed her arms, trying to hide a smile. "Don't get used to it."
"Too late," Noel said, grinning.
The tension between them lightened. She could still see a few bruises on his face — faint, but noticeable.
"You should really rest," Eira said. "You still look like you went through a war."
He shrugged. "Nah, just a minor apocalypse."
Eira laughed, shaking her head. "You really don't take things seriously, do you?"
"I do," he said quietly. "Just… not everything deserves to weigh me down."
Something in his tone made her pause. He wasn't just joking — he meant that.
She waited for a second. "…That's surprisingly deep for someone who almost started a street fight."
"I call it balance," Noel replied with a smirk.
Eira rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her amusement.
"You know," she said, "I didn't expect you to be this… easy to talk to."
Noel looked at her. "Then maybe you should talk to me more often."
She blinked, caught off guard again.
A brief silence passed, only filled by the hum of the campus breeze.
"So," Noel finally said, "haven't seen you around lately."
"Yeah," Eira said. "Been a bit busy."
"Last time, we barely got to talk."
"And yet," she said with a soft laugh, "I still remember it."
He smiled faintly. "Guess I made an impression."
Eira replied "Or maybe I just remember weird people easily."
He raised an eyebrow. "Ouch."
They both laughed — the sound blending naturally into the lazy rhythm of the afternoon.
From there, their talk slipped into lighter topics — the kind of things that make two strangers feel like old friends.
Noel found himself laughing more than usual. Eira, too, seemed… different — less guarded, more alive.
At one point, she looked at him, her tone softer.
"You know… you kind of remind me of someone I used to know."
"Oh?" Noel said. "Should I be worried or flattered?"
"Neither," she said with a faint smile. "It's just… your face, your way of talking. You really do."
He tilted his head slightly. "So where is he now?"
Her smile faltered. "He's… gone. Passed away a few years back."
The air grew still. Noel's grin faded.
"I'm… sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to—"
Eira shook her head gently.
"It's okay. I used to cherish that person a lot. He was… someone who made things feel lighter, even when they weren't."
Noel's voice softened. "Sounds like someone who mattered."
"He did," she said, looking away. "But people don't really stay forever, do they?"
For a while, neither of them spokes. The silence wasn't awkward — just heavy, honest.
Then Noel smiled faintly, his tone light but warm.
"Well… if he looked like me, I'd say I'm the upgraded version."
Eira blinked, then let out a small laugh — the heaviness lifting just a little. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Hey," Noel said, leaning back, "someone's got to keep the mood alive."
"Confidently ridiculous," she murmured, shaking her head.
"Still not helping my case."
Before Noel could reply, a voice called out behind them.
"Yo! Noel! Who's the girl?"
Noel sighed. "Great… my club's here."
Eira smiled teasingly. "Your friends, I assume?"
"Unfortunately."
As his group approached, Noel introduced Eira. After a bit of teasing and laughter, he smirked and said,
"From now on, you're one of us. Welcome to the cult."
Eira blinked. "Cult?"
"Yeah. We sacrifice sleep, sanity, and dignity on a daily basis."
Eira laughed. "Sounds… oddly relatable. Fine, I'm in."
Noel grinned, and the others chuckled — not loudly, but in that easy, familiar way friends do when something just feels right.
The air around them felt lighter, warmer. For a brief moment, it was as if the world beyond that small circle had quieted — leaving only their voices, their laughter, and a fleeting sense of calm that none of them tried to name.
After college ended, Ryan revved up his bike and called out,
"Oi, Noel! You said you wanted to reach home early, right? I can drop you."
"Yeah, sure," Noel said, walking over with a half-smile.
As he was about to hop on, Ryan tossed him the keys.
"Wanna ride?"
Noel blinked. "Uh… pass. I still don't know how to handle one of these death machines."
Ryan laughed. "Man, you're hopeless."
Noel smirked. "And still alive."
They waved goodbye to the others and hit the road. The evening air was cool, the streetlights flickering awake one by one as they rode through the narrow lanes.
But halfway through, the bike sputtered — once, twice — then died completely in the middle of the road.
"Bro, don't tell me…" Noel said.
Ryan groaned, trying the ignition again. The engine coughed, stuttered, and finally went quiet with one last, pitiful sound.
"Wow," Noel said. "Even your bike's dramatic."
Ryan clicked his tongue in frustration. "Great. Just what I needed today."
After a few failed attempts, he sighed. "We better get this checked. There would be some mechanics near your area at this hour."
Noel groaned. "Fine. Guess fate wants me late today."
They pushed the bike down the street until they found a small workshop — its walls stained with grease, the faint buzz of old fluorescent lights humming above.
A tired mechanic glanced up from another motorbike. "Leave it there. Lotta work pending — might take a bit."
"Sure," Ryan said, handing over the keys.
They sat down on a wooden bench as someone brought them glasses of water. Noel wiped his face with his sleeve, half amused, half annoyed.
They sat on a dusty wooden bench while someone from the shop brought them glasses of water. Noel leaned back, exhausted.
Ryan chuckled. "Man, you really are bad luck. The moment you sit, the bike gives up."
Noel gave him a sideways glare.
"Oh please. I just wanted to reach home on time. Thought your bike would help — turns out it betrayed me first."
Ryan laughed. "Well, it is what it is. Can't fight destiny, huh?"
Noel sighed, shaking his head with a small grin. "Guess not."
As they waited, a sudden argument broke out near the front of the workshop.
A man in a black suit was yelling at one of the mechanics, his tone sharp and commanding. Behind him stood another man — tall, built like a wall, clearly a bodyguard.
"I'm not paying a single penny for that trash job!" the man snapped.
The mechanic fired back,
"Then take your car somewhere else! You think this place runs for free?"
The air grew tense. Noel and Ryan exchanged a glance.
"I said, you pay what's due!" the mechanic snapped.
The suited man scoffed. "You insect. You think you can talk to me like that? Don't you know who I am? I'm an official member of the VIREN Organization."
He gestured sharply, and his bodyguard shoved the mechanic backward, almost knocking him into a pile of tools.
Before anyone could react—
A deep, irritated voice echoed from the back of the workshop.
"Who the hell's shouting out here? Don't you idiots know I'm trying to sleep?"
Everyone turned.
A younger mechanic hurried inside, pushing through hanging tools and smoke, straight to the back room. On an old sofa lay a man, half-asleep, cigarette between his fingers, an ashtray overflowing beside him.
"Boss," the mechanic said nervously, "someone's causing a mess out front."
The man sighed, rubbed his temples, and stood up lazily. He stretched, scratched his head, and dropped the cigarette onto the floor, crushing it under his heel.
As he stepped out, the light from outside caught his sharp, tired eyes.
"Yoo… what's going on here?" he said with a half-yawn.
The mechanic pointed. "That guy's refusing to pay. Even pushed me."
The man glanced at the suited customer, then at the mechanic, and exhaled.
"Another one trying to make a fool of himself, huh?"
He walked over, helped the mechanic back to his feet, brushed the dust off his shirt, and said calmly, "Go handle the other customers. I'll deal with this."
Then he turned toward the suited man and his bodyguard. "Alright. What's your problem?"
The man sneered, stepping forward.
"You? You think I'll pay after you people insult me?"
In one motion, he grabbed that man by the collar.
"You have no idea who you're dealing with, you damn insect!"
The room fell silent.
That man didn't flinch.
"Let go," he said quietly.
That suited man didn't.
And then—
SLAAAM!
A deafening thud shook the entire workshop. The suited man was hurled backward, slammed into the side of his own car so hard the metal caved in. The impact echoed through the room, leaving everyone frozen in shock.
Even the bodyguard hesitated, his brain trying to catch up with what just happened.
He held that suited man's collar, eyes calm, unfazed. He lifted him again — and slammed him once more, even harder. The car's door bent inward with a sickening crunch as the man went completely limp, unconscious.
The collar slipped free on its own as the man slumped against the wrecked car.
The bodyguard stepped forward instinctively, but the boss moved first — gripping his face with one hand and forcing him still.
"Don't," he said coldly. "Just pay for the work… and clean your mess."
The bodyguard froze, trembling. Without a word, he grabbed his boss's wallet, emptied it into his hands, and hurriedly dragged his unconscious boss into the car before speeding away.
The workshop fell silent again, the tension hanging heavy in the air.
Noel's gaze lingered on the man — the one who had just slammed another into a car like it was nothing. There was something about him… something cold and unshakable beneath that lazy demeanor.
He didn't know who the man was — but for some reason, he couldn't look away.
A strange pressure settled in his chest, a faint ringing in his ears. Then, without warning, a thin line of blood trailed down from his nose.
"…What the—" Noel whispered, wiping it away, his eyes still locked on the man.
Noel leaned back against the old sofa, pressing a tissue under his nose. A dull throb pulsed behind his eyes, sharper than before.
"Hey," Ryan said, concern flickering in his voice.
"It's happening again, isn't it? I'm telling you, man… this nosebleed thing isn't normal. You've been getting it way too often lately."
Noel exhaled slowly. "Yeah… I'm fine. Just need a minute."
Across the workshop, the man who'd slammed the customer earlier — the one everyone seemed to avoid — clapped his hands once.
"Alright, show's over. Get back to work."
His tone carried authority — rough but calm. As he turned, his gaze caught Noel sitting there, wiping at the blood under his nose.
He frowned and walked closer.
"Hey — you good?" he asked casually.
Noel nodded without looking up. "Yeah. Just a nosebleed. Happens sometimes."
"You didn't mess with those idiots, did you?"
Ryan quickly replied,
"Nah, man. We just came to fix the bike. He's been having these nosebleeds lately, that's all."
"Right," the man said, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it lazily, the flame flickering in his eyes. "As long as you're not making trouble—"
Noel glanced up. "Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks."
Noel lifted his head slightly, their eyes meeting for the first time.
And in that instant — something shifted.
The man froze.
The cigarette slipped from the man's fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud. His eyes widened, for a moment, he just stood there — staring at Noel as if time itself had stopped.
His expression shifted — confusion first, then disbelief.
He took a step back, eyes locked on Noel's face.
Ryan looked between them, puzzled. "Uh… what's wrong?"
The man didn't answer. His voice came out low, almost to himself—
…
…
....
Who the hell are you?