Suddenly, the weight of a hand fell on his shoulder.
"Ah!"
Behind him stood Gary, dressed in a dark suit, his face pale with worry.
"Mr. Lloyd! This isn't a joke. You went alone again? You look like all the color's drained from your face. What happened?"
Lloyd cast a quick glance toward the tent.
If I tell Father, I'll never have freedom again.
"N-nothing, G-Gary… l-let's just go home."
"But, sir—"
"G-Gary! Please. Don't."
"I will always protect you."
Out on the street, a sleek black car gleamed like a phoenix among gray pigeons. Guards stood in the rain, expressionless, waiting.
Inside the tent, Sophia flipped over her cards.
A man entered wearing a white mask devoid of all emotion. The number "1501" was engraved across his chest.
"Why did you release him?"
"Fear is necessary for awakening."
"…?"
"A child who falls from the fourth floor and survives is not merely lucky. A boy who has everything except affection. A powerful father who neglects him. A mother who is gone. These are wounds. Wounds that can become cracks wide enough for other powers to enter. The Organization wants that power to awaken. We do not have much time."
"Does he truly possess supernatural ability?"
"His probability is higher than the others. Alice has only one week left."
Sophia pulled a card from the deck. The Jester.
"What does this symbol mean?"
"Symbol?"
"Nothing. Absolute emptiness. Humans are the ones who give it meaning: a toy, laughter, or madness. In my opinion, the jester is a lie. Every gesture is artificial. And the Organization believes the jester is a victim."
Behind the tent, a thin man with glasses switched off a small recorder and disappeared into the fog.
Inside, the agent asked, "Shall we eliminate him?"
"No. He is my toy. The jester lies… but the puppeteer knows how to pull the strings."
In the car, Lloyd stared at the raindrops sliding down the window.
"Sir, you can talk to me."
"I…"
"I've known you since you were five years old. Please trust me."
Lloyd gave a small, fractured smile. "L-later."
"How about we watch a movie tonight? All night."
"W-will Mother allow it?"
"Never. But since when have you ever waited for permission?"
The Smith mansion shone in the night like a palace carved from ice. The trimmed lawns and perfectly arranged flowers reflected a cold, calculated order.
"Sir, you may go inside."
Suddenly, a bright voice rang out.
"Gary!"
Both of them flinched.
"It's Amelia! Help me, Gary!"
Gary went pale. "I… I don't know what to do."
Amelia leaned in through the window, brimming with energy and laughter.
"Hi everyone! Gary, why are you hiding your face?"
"It's nothing… just…"
"Dinner tonight? I promise it'll be fun!"
"But I'm responsible for Mr. Lloyd…"
Her smile faded. "Alright. Another night, then."
Suddenly, Lloyd had an idea.
"G-Gary can go. I d-don't mind."
"What?!"
"Thank you so much, Lloyd!"
"G-Gary, step outside."
"But sir—"
"Outside."
"My clothes… the car… my things—"
Lloyd gestured to the driver. The car began to move, leaving Gary standing there in helpless shock.
Sorry, Gary. But that's the price of drunken, simultaneous marriage proposals.
Flashback — One Month Earlier
The game room glowed with colorful console lights and comic book posters. Lloyd was sunk deep into a couch, fully immersed in his game.
Gary burst in looking like the end of the world.
"Sir, I have to flee. This city. This continent!"
"Why? What happened?"
"Last night… at a bar… I proposed to someone."
Lloyd set down the controller.
"Really? Wait." He pulled a bag of popcorn from his pocket. "Go on."
"I was drunk. There were two of them… and the second one… is Firen Mayer."
Popcorn scattered midair.
"The serial killer who—"
"Yes. That one. What do I do?"
"I'll arrange your funeral."
"Sir!"
"You dug your own grave."
Present — Dining Hall
The vast hall, with its long walnut table and crystal chandelier, felt cold and formal. Thomas Smith sat at the head of the table, blond hair neatly combed, sharp blue eyes fixed forward.
"Lloyd. Breaking the rules again?"
"F-Father…"
"Silence!"
His voice echoed against the empty walls. Lloyd felt his hands trembling.
Thomas sighed, rose from his seat, and slowly knelt beside his son. He took Lloyd's hands into his own warm ones.
Lloyd froze in shock.
"My son… I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you again. After your mother, I swore I would protect you. Forgive me if I seem cold at times."
Tears gathered in Lloyd's eyes.
"It's o-okay, Father."
Thomas pulled him into a firm, warm embrace. It had been years since Lloyd had felt something like this.
"Tomorrow. Just you and me. We'll ride bicycles in the park. Agreed?"
"Yeah."