Nero studied the stranger from head to toe.
The man looked to be between twenty-six and twenty-eight years old, with neatly combed blond hair and sharp blue eyes.
In the Eastern Zone, that alone made him suspicious. No grime under the nails. No nervous glances. No desperation clinging to his posture. He was far too clean for someone who claimed to belong here.
Nero narrowed his gaze.
"What are you talking about?"
The stranger sighed, as if the question itself offended him.
"A criminal group," he replied flatly. "My criminal group."
Nero didn't answer right away. He tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider the idea before asking the only question that mattered.
"What's the pay?"
The man's lips curved into a knowing grin.
"Fifteen Lokg. Per week."
He knew. He knew he had already won.
Nero stood still, mouth slightly open—not in surprise, but calculation.
Fifteen Lokg a week. That meant forty-five in a month.
Enough to eat. Enough to live. Enough to stop counting every coin like it was his last breath.
"I accept."
"Tomorrow. Same place. Ten p.m."
Nero nodded once, then turned and ran home.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A child sprinted past him, laughter cracking through the air like glass. An older man chased after the boy, cursing loudly. In his panic, the man dropped a small leather pouch.
Nero stopped.
He watched them disappear into the maze of alleys.
Slowly, a grin spread across his face.
He crouched, picked up the pouch, and weighed it in his hand.
"Be more careful, sir," he muttered mockingly. "Anything I see, I take."
He moved through the Eastern Zone with practiced caution. The alleys twisted like veins, dark and suffocating. Even with a revolver tucked beneath his coat, he couldn't afford mistakes.
Two bullets.
That was all he had.
At his door, Nero opened the pouch.
Twelve Lokg.
Exactly what he needed to survive an entire month.
A low chuckle escaped him as he imagined the man's face—wide eyes, shaking hands, the slow realization that everything he owned was gone.
Nero opened the door, barely containing his excitement.
"Rose," he said, almost laughing. "I joined a criminal group. They pay fifteen Lokg a week."
Rose's eyes lit up instantly. She jumped to her feet and pointed at the pouch in his hand.
"And that?"
"I stole it from a fool who dropped it," Nero replied casually. "Twelve Lokg."
Rose laughed softly.
"Let me guess. You searched everywhere, found no work, wandered around at night, and suddenly—boom—you met a stranger who offered you a job in a gang."
"Something like that."
She tilted her head, then smiled.
"Do you want to dance?"
Nero hesitated for only a moment.
Every memory of happiness they shared ended the same way—with music that didn't exist and steps they didn't need to think about.
He nodded.
Rose took his hand, and they moved slowly across the room. No rhythm, no song—just instinct. Perfect synchronization.
Rose hummed softly, eyes closed.
Nero watched her.
For reasons he couldn't explain, something deep inside him tightened.
A need.
A certainty.
Protect her.
Is this what a sibling bond feels like?
Sunday, October 13 — 6:42 a.m.
Nero woke to cold.
His bare feet touched the floor, and a shiver ran through his body.
"So cold…"
He stepped into the hallway just in time to see Rose preparing to leave.
"I'm going to buy some things," she said lightly. "With the poor fool's money."
"Wait. I'm coming too."
He dressed quickly, slid the revolver into the same hidden place as the night before, and returned.
Rose grabbed his arm.
She wore a black Victorian-style dress that once belonged to their mother. Nero dressed in black as well, a white shirt beneath his coat, and a black hat that had been their father's.
They walked together toward the Eastern Zone market.
"Hey, beautiful," a man called out as he approached Rose. "Want to have some fun?"
She stiffened.
Nero stopped.
His red eyes locked onto the man—empty, hollow, utterly devoid of warmth.
The man frowned, muttered something under his breath, and walked away.
Rose exhaled slowly, then looked at Nero with something close to admiration.
She pointed toward a bakery.
Inside, the scent of fresh bread filled the air.
"Good morning, sir and miss," the clerk said politely.
"Two bags of bread, please," Rose replied, smiling at the title.
They waited.
"All done," the girl said. "Please, come this way."
Rose took the bread. Nero stayed near the door.
Pam.
Pain exploded across his head.
A notebook had fallen, striking him hard.
He crouched and picked it up.
Manual of Rituals.
His breath caught.
A ritual manual? Here?
Coincidence… or intention?
"Nero."
Rose's voice snapped him back.
Without thinking, he slid the book into his coat—opposite the revolver.
She took his arm again.
"Nero," she said quietly. "I'm worried about that gang. I tried not to be… but I can't anymore."
He rested his chin lightly on her head.
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
She hesitated, then nodded.
At home, Nero locked his door and placed the book on the table.
Chapter 1: Transformation Ritual into a Sinner.
The page was torn out.
So was the next.
And the next.
Only the final page remained intact.
Chapter 134: The Black Tide.
Ritual Steps:
Use your blood to draw a circle.
Stand at its center.
Inject your Aura.
Pray.
"Oh Holy Lord… I beg You, help me."
Nero leaned back slowly.
What the hell was this?
Who was "He"?
What was Aura?
And how was a human not supposed to bleed to death?
"Nero… lunch…"
He closed the book and hid it away.
Sunday, October 13 — 9:12 p.m.
The alley was already occupied.
Four people.
Five, including him.
Nero leaned against the wall. To his left, a girl with white hair edged in platinum and ice-blue eyes. To his right, a boy with yellow hair and matching eyes, smiling faintly beneath a black hat.
"What's your name?" the stranger asked.
"Nero Alexue."
"Kōri Ukiuq," the girl replied flatly.
"Lux Stella," the boy said cheerfully.
The surnames felt foreign. Unfamiliar.
Time crawled.
Minutes bled into one another.
Forty-eight minutes later, there were twelve of them.
At exactly ten p.m., footsteps echoed at the end of the alley.
The man who had made the offer stepped into the light.
And smiled.