The message arrived at 6:17 p.m.
No greeting.No explanation.
Just an address—and a time.
Kyoto House, 8:00 p.m.
Leena stared at the screen for a moment.
A Japanese restaurant.
Public. Quiet. Controlled.
Very James.
She deleted the message immediately and placed the phone face down.
For the first time in days, she allowed herself a slow breath.
This wasn't a trap.
James didn't need traps.
If he wanted her gone, she would already be gone.
Leena moved efficiently.
A quick shower.Simple black jeans.Dark jacket.Hair tied back.
No weapons.
No unnecessary tech.
She left the system shop untouched.
James hadn't asked for strength.
He had asked for presence.
Before leaving, she paused beside her mother's bed.
Lussy slept lightly, the steady rhythm of the monitor a quiet reassurance. Leena brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
"I'll be back soon," she whispered.
Then she turned and walked out.
Kyoto House sat on a quiet street, half-hidden behind maple trees and soft lantern light.
No flashy sign.
No crowd.
No noise.
Inside, the scent of cedar and soy greeted her. The restaurant was dim, warm, almost intimate. A handful of diners sat scattered across private booths.
A hostess bowed politely.
"Reservation?" she asked.
Leena nodded. "James."
The woman didn't ask for a surname.
She bowed again and gestured toward the back.
"This way, please."
The private room was traditional.
Tatami mats.Low wooden table.Paper walls painted with mountain ink art.
James was already there.
Seated calmly.
Back straight.
Hands resting loosely on the table.
He looked exactly as he had in the hospital.
And completely different.
Here, there was no badge.
No uniform.
No visible authority.
Yet the room felt smaller because of him.
Leena stepped inside.
James's eyes lifted.
Sharp.
Measuring.
Unreadable.
"Sit," he said.
She did.
No pleasantries.
No small talk.
Tea was poured silently by a server who left without a word.
James studied her as if she were a document written in invisible ink.
"You came alone," he said.
"Yes."
"You weren't followed."
"No."
"You didn't bring protection."
"No."
A pause.
"Good."
Leena met his gaze evenly.
"You said you needed help," James continued. "For your mother."
"Yes."
"From people you won't name."
"Yes."
James lifted his teacup but didn't drink.
James set the teacup down at last.
The porcelain made a soft, final sound against the wood.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he looked at her again—this time not like an officer, not like a negotiator, but like someone assessing risk.
"Alright," he said calmly."Then what about you?"
Leena blinked once.
"Where will you go?"
The question landed heavier than it sounded.
Outside the paper walls, the wind moved through the trees. A lantern swayed slightly, its light trembling across the ink-painted mountains.
Leena didn't answer immediately.
She turned her head and looked through the narrow window beside her. Beyond it, the city lights blurred into something distant, something unreachable.
"Somewhere far," she said quietly."Somewhere I can become stronger."
James's brows lifted—just a fraction.
"And powerful," she added.
That made him pause.
Not because of the words.
But because of how calmly she said them.
Most people asked for safety.
For protection.
For escape.
Leena asked for growth.
James studied her again, more carefully this time.
"You don't want hiding," he said slowly."You want pressure."
"Yes."
"You understand what that means?"
"Yes."
James leaned back, folding his arms.
"I know a place," he said after a moment."It's… suitable for someone like you."
Leena turned back to him.
"Suitable how?"
James's gaze hardened.
"Unforgiving," he said."Isolated. No second chances."
He leaned forward slightly.
"One mistake," he continued, voice steady,"and you die."
Silence filled the room.
Leena didn't look away.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't ask where.
James watched her closely.
"Think carefully," he said."Once you step into that world, there's no pulling you out."
Leena inhaled slowly.
Before she could answer—
Ding.
The sound echoed only in her mind.
A translucent interface unfolded, invisible to anyone else.
SYSTEM ALERT
Mission Issued: Trial of Isolation
Accept James's offerTravel to the designated locationSurvive independently for 2 years
Mission Rank: S
Failure Consequence: Permanent death
Mission Rewards:
Complete Recovery Pill(Restores full body functionality, eliminates all lingering damage)
Blueprint: Interstellar Vessel (200 Years Advanced Technology)
Leena's breath slowed.
A two-year trial.
No system shortcuts mentioned.
No guarantees.
No safety net.
Just survival.
She closed the interface without changing her expression.
James noticed the shift in her eyes.
"You decided," he said.
"Yes."
No fear.
No doubt.
James exhaled quietly, almost like a sigh.
"Then understand this," he said."I won't interfere once you leave."
"That's fine," Leena replied.
"I won't protect you."
"I didn't ask you to."
"And if you don't come back—"
Leena stood.
"Then it means I wasn't strong enough."
James looked up at her.
For the first time, there was no calculation in his eyes.
Only acknowledgment.
"Good," he said."I'll send you the details soon."
Leena bowed her head slightly—not in submission, but respect.
"One more thing," James added.
She paused.
"When you return," he said quietly,"the world you know may no longer fit you."
Leena met his gaze.
"Then I'll change the world," she replied.
James didn't smile.
But his eyes sharpened with something close to approval.
Leena turned and walked out of the room.
Behind her, the lantern light flickered.
Ahead of her—
Two years of silence.Two years of blood, struggle, and transformation.
And somewhere in the distance—
A future no one was ready for.
The next morning arrived quietly.
Too quietly.
Sunlight filtered through the hospital curtains, pale and weak, casting soft lines across the floor. Leena sat beside her mother's bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Alive.Recovering.
The system remained silent.
For once, that silence felt heavy.
A knock came at the door.
Leena looked up.
A hospital attendant stood there holding a small, unmarked parcel.
"Delivery for you," he said.
Leena frowned slightly. "From who?"
The man shook his head. "No sender listed."
She accepted the package.
It was light.
Too light.
After the door closed, she turned it over in her hands. No address. No label. Just plain brown wrapping, carefully sealed.
Leena opened it slowly.
Inside was a single object.
A bronze token.
Round.
Heavy for its size.
Cold to the touch.
At its center was a dragon—coiled tightly, scales etched with impossible precision. Its eyes seemed almost alive, carved deep enough to catch the light no matter how she tilted it.
This wasn't decoration.
It was a key.
Before she could examine it further—
Her phone vibrated.
One message.
Unknown Contact.
She opened it.
James:Tomorrow, you leave.
Don't worry about your mother. Everything is settled.She will be taken care of after you're gone.
No one will hurt her.
That is my promise to you.
Leena's grip tightened around the phone.
James didn't make promises lightly.
If he said her mother would be safe, then even Shep Corporation wouldn't dare cross that line.
Leena looked back at Lussy.
Her face was calmer today.
Color slowly returning.
Life, fragile but real.
Leena leaned forward and kissed her mother's forehead.
"Sleep," she whispered."I'll come back stronger."
She straightened and glanced down at the bronze token again.
The dragon's eye caught the light.
And for just a moment—
Leena felt like she was standing on the edge of something vast.
Something ancient.
Something that would either forge her into a weapon—
Or erase her completely.
Tomorrow, she would leave.
And nothing would ever be the same again.