Before Lucidia could offer a sharp retort, a rasping voice cut through the air.
"You two lovebirds dating?"
The young woman with the dreadlocks had moved from her pillar. She stood a few feet away, the cigarette between her fingers glowing an angry orange as she took a drag. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the pair with a mix of boredom and amusement.
"ABSOLUTELY," Lucidia said immediately, her voice flat and deadpan, not even looking up from her drink.
Aero's smile widened for a heartbeat, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise—until the silence stretched just a second too long.
"Not," Lucidia finished, finally taking a sip of the bitter liquid.
Aero's shoulders slumped as he let out a long, dramatic sigh, though the glint of humor didn't leave his eyes. "And here I thought I'd finally found someone who appreciated my goggles."
The woman with the dreadlocks chuckled, a dry, gravelly sound. She flicked her ash onto the floor, stepping closer into the light of the bar. "Figures. The name's Quinna. Nice to meet you two. And you two are?"
"Lucidia," the writer replied, her irritation simmering down into a cautious curiosity.
"Aero," the man added, giving his goggles a quick, habitual tap.
Quinna nodded, her gaze shifting toward the back of the room where the green-haired man and the metal-jawed giant remained like silent sentinels. "Well, Lucidia, Aero... welcome to the Hub. Usually, people only come here when they're looking for trouble, or when trouble has already found them. Which one is it for you?"
Before they could reply
The heavy thud of metal on stone echoed through the Hub. The juggernaut man, his face dominated by a massive, bolted metal jaw—reminiscent of a jagged iron mask—pushed off from the wall. He loomed over Lucidia, his presence blocking out the light.
"Hey!" he growled, the sound echoing hollowly behind the iron plate.
Lucidia didn't flinch. She set her drink down slowly and turned her head. "What, big guy?"
"I heard you were a witness of the crime scene that happened this very morning," he rumbled, the vibrations of his voice rattling the metal across his chin. "The Blood Seeker doesn't leave witnesses. So why are you still breathing, writer?"
Lucidia's expression remained flat, though her irritation was peaking. "First of all, I am Lucidia. Second of all, what's with the sudden calamity? And third of all, I knew nothing about this Blood Seeker until today."
The man narrowed his eyes, his massive metal arm hissing with steam as he gripped the handle of his giant axe. "I'm Mugen. I'm a mechanic. I just have a suspicion that you're the Blood Seeker."
Suddenly, a sharp, mocking laugh erupted from the back of the room. It was the man with the green hair, his head tilted back as the sound of his amusement filled the tense silence.
Before Lucidia could retort, a familiar, cold voice cut through the air.
"It's not her."
It was the noble. He had moved from the window, his golden hair catching the light as he stepped toward the center of the room. Mugen turned his bulk toward him, his metal jaw gleaming.
"And how do you know that?" Mugen challenged. "You were located near the crime scene, too."
The noble's eyes flashed with icy disdain. "Talk to me with respect, peasant."
Mugen didn't back down. He spat on the floor. "So you don't have any reasons that you're 100% not the Blood Seeker? Or that she isn't?"
Before the noble could even respond, the green-haired man laughed again, stepping forward with his hands in his pockets.
"It's neither of them, imbecile," he said, his voice smooth and mocking. He looked at Mugen with a glint of genuine pity in his purple eyes. "Why would they even make a scene if it was them? The real murderer would be hidden behind the darkness."
He came to a stop near the bar, the shadows seemingly clinging to his coat. "The name's Acheron."
The noble straightened his cloak, looking at Acheron with a mixture of suspicion and shared status. "And I am Ash."