"There are three options: the Dock-Masters' Union, the Sea Garden, and Golden Delta Hall. All three come with benefits and problems, but any of them would make the handler reconsider his plans."
He paused.
"Just understand this: whichever path you choose, you will not walk back from it easily. Connections are chains, even golden ones."
"I will think on it."
Yi nodded. "Do that. And do not take too long. The people pushing against you are not patient."
Atem stood up, adjusting his clothes before heading toward the door.
Yi added one final remark before he left the room.
"If you survive this well, you may even thank them one day. Pressure has a habit of pushing certain people upward."
Atem paused at the doorway.
"Or pushing them into the sea."
Yi shrugged lightly. "That depends entirely on how well you swim."
Atem left Yi's pavilion with a composed expression, though his mind was still turning over the old man's words.
Tide Line often changed weather without warning, and tonight was no exception.
Despite the wet breeze brushing across his cheeks, Atem felt no discomfort.
The pendant beneath his collar was faintly warm, forming a thin barrier that kept the cold from sinking into his bones.
The street itself was far from empty. A line of Atherlen cars drifted slowly along the main road. Atem raised a hand toward the first one.
The driver saw him clearly, yet turned his head aside and continued forward.
Atem's brows lowered slightly.
Another car approached. He signaled again.
The driver hesitated for a short moment—long enough to acknowledge him—then pressed onward without slowing.
Atem remained silent, though a thin line formed between his eyebrows.
A third car came and behaved the same, followed by a fourth.
None of them stopped.
The rain wasn't heavy enough to cause drivers to ignore passengers. The road wasn't blocked. And even if the wind was strong, it had never discouraged Tide Line's drivers before.
For some reason, they simply refused to stop for him tonight.
Atem stood beneath the pavilion eaves for several breaths before turning away from the street.
"Hmm… strange. It seems like I'll have to walk."
He stepped into the rain without hesitation and followed a side path leading away from the harbor.
Most shops had already shut their windows for the night, leaving the district oddly quiet except for the distant crash of waves against the docks.
Before long, he reached the familiar narrow alley that connected this part of Tide Line to Stone Street. Rainwater ran through the center of the passage in a thin stream, carrying small bits of debris toward a drainage grate further ahead.
The alley was dim, with only a pale blur of moonlight slipping through the gaps between the leaning wooden walls.
"This should be the quickest way through," Atem said in a low tone, scanning the empty passage. "Though it is far more unpleasant in this weather."
He stepped into the alley.
Halfway down the path, a sudden stab of instinct struck him without warning.
Atem's expression sharpened. His foot paused mid-step before he shifted his weight and leaned sharply to the side.
A faint whisper cut past him.
A thin blade of light sliced through the rain exactly where his chest had been a moment before.
Atem didn't bother to look at the attack that never reached him. Instead, his gaze went immediately to the far end of the alley.
A figure stood there beneath the rain, cloaked in a black robe. The hood hung low over their face, making it impossible to distinguish their features.
The man studied Atem for a moment before speaking.
"…Strange. They said you would be an easy target."
He reached to his sides and drew two slender sabers.
Atem's expression didn't change.
"So the Harbor Authority is hiring assassins now?"
"Is that what you think?"
The assassin gave a low chuckle and approached, step by step.
Atem's calm only deepened. For someone supposedly cornered, he didn't show the slightest trace of fear.
The assassin made his move without warning. His figure blurred and vanished into thin air.
Atem's expression changed at once. He turned his body, preparing for the strike he knew would follow.
A faint wind brushed his cheek as the assassin reappeared right before him.
Cling!
Metal clashed, but the scene the assassin expected—blood and a collapsing body—never came. Instead, he was the one forced backward.
"That's… impossible." His eyes widened.
Atem was now holding a slim dagger in his right hand.
"Why so surprised?" Atem asked casually. "Did you really take me for a sheep waiting to be butchered?"
The assassin frowned slightly.
"This is the first time I've ever received wrong information about a target."
"Then let me save you the trouble," Atem said with a faint sneer. "You won't be correcting it."
He flicked his wrist, sending the dagger spinning toward the assassin.
The man scoffed. "A simple trick."
He sidestepped easily—only for his expression to sharpen in the next instant. He spun around and raised both sabers just in time to block an attack aimed at his ribs.
Clang!
Atem was already on him, another short saber flashing in his hand. The assassin's stance broke for a heartbeat—enough for him to realize he needed to disengage.
Without hesitation, he swept his arm and released several thin needles toward Atem. At the same moment, he retreated swiftly toward the far end of the street.
The moment his surprise attack was broken, he knew the mission had already failed.
A muffled explosion sounded behind him—it seemed Atem had managed to deflect all the needles.
"Tch, troublesome," he muttered, increasing his speed. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get that far.
A silver gleam cut across his vision, but instinct took over as he dropped back and lifted both sabers in defense.
The moment his blades met Atem's—
BOOM!
A shockwave burst forth, and the assassin was flung back. His sabers were torn from his hands and sent spinning across the cobblestones.
"Aetherline weapon…someone at your level shouldn't be carrying one. Where did you get it?"