Stamped in the upper left corner was the mark of a lion, its claw stretching toward a full moon.
Across the page, a single word blazed in crimson ink, the seal heavy and absolute: REDACTED.
"Redacted," she pursed her lips. "Well, about what you'd expect from a Gerart." her interest was in the emblem though. It was of a clan she didn't recognize. "Say Anne-"
Her attention was cut short. A man in a silver suit, broad‑shouldered and smug, stepped toward her table.
Behind him, another man just younger, leaner and shorter in a uniform. A server. "We're gonna call for you when needed." Mirai said. He nodded and retreated,
As for the man in the silver suit he approached closer, raising his arm for a handshake. Mirai didn't even glance at him.
Her eyes still lingered towards the emblem, banner, whatever it was.
His partner trailed behind, eyes sharp with envy. "Miss Mirai," he said, voice dripping with arrogance, "surely someone of your stature deserves the front, not the shadows."
His hand hesitated in midair, then, seeing no invitation from her, he reached for the chair opposite hers and claimed it.
The assistant's gaze turned glacial. "Miss Mirai chose this table. Move along, Floki." She addressed him by the title, making him chuckle for a short beat.
"Now, now.. Can't two serious people have a chat? Ms. Mirai. The Venus clan and the Mirai corporations have had a longstanding relationship, we are looking forward to your answer-"
Mirai's eyes lifted, cold and precise, making him stop in his breath. "I chose this place. That alone makes it worthy. But it isn't a place for a mere.. Guard such as you, Floki. Does that answer you?"
The words silenced him more than any threat, and he withdrew, muttering under his breath. "Who is she calling guard, that brat.. I'm one of the commanders for God's sake.. Rich brat…"
As he left, the music faltered. A piano note rang sharp, discordant, and the cello's string snapped with a harsh twang.
The singer's voice broke mid‑verse, leaving the restaurant in uneasy quiet.
Guests exchanged glances, whispers rising. Mirai tilted her head, noticing they were looking at her with worried glances.
"Continue, don't worry. Accidents happen." She eased their worries with a sigh, leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs.
The musicians obeyed at once.
A replacement string was drawn, the pianist's fingers found the keys again—careful this time—and the melody resumed, softer, chastened.
Conversation slowly returned to the room like a tide creeping back over sand. Mirai didn't watch them.
Her gaze had returned to the document, to the lion and the moon.
The ink looked old—older than it should, as if the mark had been pressed through generations before finding its way here.
Anne leaned closer, voice low. "That reaction back there," she murmured. "You didn't even raise your voice." She smiled, "You're becoming a true lady."
Mirai's lips curved faintly. "People like Floki hear hierarchy the way animals hear thunder. You don't need to shout when the circus already knows your name."
Anne exhaled through her nose, half-amused, half-wary. Her eyes flicked back to the emblem. "I've been through every registry. Every major house, minor offshoot, dead bloodline, and disgraced banner in the last two decades since the Purge. It doesn't exist."
"Then it was erased," Mirai said, turning the page.. "Or it never existed in the first place."
The word REDACTED bled through the next sheet too, again and again.
Mirai leaned against her own arm, "Now I'm interested… Find whose banner that was, go beyond the purge, before the first awakened appeared two decades ago."
"Understood, Miss Mirai."
Across the room, Floki stood near the bar, pretending not to stare. His partner whispered something sharp in his ear. Floki shook his head once, stiff, like a chastised hound.
Mirai noticed. Or rather, she felt the gaze since he left and just didn't pay any attention to it.
"Venus clan," she said softly, testing the words. "They are still trying to recruit me?" She sighed, "Everyone either sees a use or fears me.. What a boring life, right Anne?"
Anne nodded. "It seems so."
"How annoying."
She closed the folder and rose from her chair, the movement unhurried but final. The musicians faltered again, just for a heartbeat, before forcing the song onward.
"We're leaving," Mirai said to Anne, already following after her. "I'm bored of waiting." From the table over, her guards also stood up.
Then, outside, the growl of an engine cut through the hush. Heads turned toward the entrance as the gleam of red paint caught the lights.
The Porsche slid into place, doors opening. Han stepped out, late but smiling, oblivious to the weight of the moment. Mirai's lips curved faintly. "Finally."
Her smile was short lived, from the passenger's seat Maria came out, in a high schooler's uniform.
Floki, well almost everyone at the restaurant noticed Mirai's eyes wandering to the young man outside.
***
Han closed the doors of his Porsche and stood barefoot on the warm pavement. A few heads turned. Some people stared, others barely hid their laughter at the sight of his ragged clothes.
Inside the restaurant, the young server who in truth was the shift supervisor noticed him immediately. Or rather, noticed Mirai looking at Han.
He hurried out and stopped before the entrance. Servers followed in formation, five on each side, bowing deeply with heads lowered.
Guests turned, confused. Whatever this was, it wasn't for them. "First Mirai…" someone whispered from the line. "Now what?"
"So this is where your date is?" Maria muttered, tugging at her sleeves as she closed the car doors.
"I thought I was going to die tonight. We were doing two-twenty, for God's sake… Ughh still I can't lie.. I didn't have that much fun in a long time though…" She looked up, stretched and froze.
Expensive cars lined the entrance. And a young man their age was approaching them. She blushed. Then realized he was walking straight toward Han.
"Sir," the young man said, bowing. It was the valet attendant. Han blinked, confused. "Brother," Maria hissed under her breath.
"Huh?" Han pocketed the keys. "She's fine. She is good as I parked her. And I don't have cash either way."
He glanced at the timer. Still counting.
"…More importantly."
He broke into a run for the doors.
"Brother?!" Maria shouted, mortified.
[ Warning: Time left until mission failure - 15 seconds. ]
He rushed past the servers, barefoot on the red carpet.
Voices snapped from the line. "Stop that man. We've been waiting for hours—does he think he can just walk in? Absolutely mad."
Inside, Mirai laughed softly, already back at her table, "What a madman…" Anne tilted her head towards Mirai, "Miss. Are you sure," She looked at her watch. "He's barely on time.."
She nodded, "It's alright."
At the doors, a server looked to his shift supervisor. "Sir…?"
The supervisor flinched as the barefoot man approached.
If he wasn't Miss Mirai's guest, letting him in would mean trouble. If he was, stopping him would be far worse.
"What are you waiting for?!" the supervisor snapped. He yanked the doors open himself. Another server rushed to help.
Han burst inside, nearly losing his footing as the doors swung wide.
[ WARNING: Time left until mission failure - 10 seconds. ]
"Are you serious?" Han muttered.
He scanned the room—and froze. There she was, dead center, far back.
"God… I hate this."
He shut his eyes and ran anyway, barefoot across polished floors, refusing to meet the crowd's gaze.
[ WARNING: Time left until mission failure - 5 seconds. ]
One meter from the table, someone stepped into his path. Floki.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY YOU-" Han shouted, too late.
[ WARNING: MISSION FAILED. ]