Lucien Blackwood leaned casually against the side of the car, one hand resting loosely in his pocket, his gaze calm—but observant.
From a distance, he watched two figures approaching the villa.
They walked side by side, their conversation relaxed, almost cheerful, completely unaware of the invisible tension surrounding everything connected to this place.
The woman was elegant, composed, dressed in a way that spoke of status and control. Even without introduction, Lucien could tell—this was Scarlett's mother.
Beside her walked a tall, thin man dressed in formal religious attire, a book held firmly in his hand.
A rabbi.
Lucien's eyes lingered on him for a brief second longer than necessary.
"Mrs. Johnson," the man said warmly, his voice carrying calm assurance, "you can leave your daughter to me. Whatever troubles her… they will be cleansed."
His tone carried conviction.
Not arrogance.
Not doubt.
Faith.
Pure, unshaken faith.
Scarlett's mother exhaled slowly, as if relieved to have found something to rely on.
"I'm counting on you," she said. "She hasn't been herself these past few days."
Lucien almost smiled.
Not amused.
Just… unsurprised.
People always looked for explanations they could accept.
Even if those explanations had no connection to reality.
As the two reached the villa entrance, Scarlett's mother suddenly paused, her gaze shifting toward the car.
More specifically—
Toward Lucien.
A slight frown appeared on her face.
Recognition.
That was Scarlett's car.
But the man leaning against it… she didn't recognize him.
Too young to be a professional driver.
Too calm to be ordinary.
Suspicion flickered in her eyes—but only briefly.
She didn't stop.
Didn't question.
Just made a mental note to ask later.
Then she entered the villa alongside the rabbi.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Lucien remained exactly where he was.
Waiting.
Observing.
Listening.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
Voices.
Muffled at first.
Then sharper.
Scarlett.
Her tone wasn't afraid.
It was angry.
Lucien exhaled softly.
Predictable.
Less than a minute later, the door opened again.
Scarlett walked out.
Fast.
Her steps sharp, controlled—but the tension in her shoulders gave everything away.
She didn't look back.
Didn't hesitate.
She went straight to the car, opened the door, and got inside.
"Let's go, Lucien."
Her voice was steady.
But her breathing wasn't.
Lucien slid into the passenger seat without comment.
The engine roared to life a second later.
Only once the car began moving did he speak.
"What happened?"
Scarlett tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
"You saw them, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"My mother brought a rabbi." Her voice sharpened slightly. "I told her I didn't need that. I told her multiple times."
Lucien didn't respond immediately.
He already knew where this was going.
"But that wasn't the worst part," she continued, frustration bleeding into her tone. "He started talking about your talisman."
Lucien turned his head slightly, watching her profile.
"And?"
Scarlett let out a short, humorless laugh.
"He called it something created by the devil. Said it was dangerous. Said I should throw it away immediately."
Lucien's expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
Scarlett glanced at him.
"You're not even surprised?"
"No."
That answer caught her off guard.
"…You already knew?"
Lucien leaned back slightly.
"Different belief systems reject anything outside their framework. To him, what he doesn't understand must be wrong. What isn't his must be dangerous."
Scarlett blinked.
"…That simple?"
"That predictable."
For a moment, she didn't know whether to be annoyed or impressed.
Then she sighed.
"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked quietly. "He questioned you. Your abilities. Everything."
Lucien looked out the window, his gaze distant.
"I've met worse."
A brief pause.
Then, calmly—
"If someone insists on being wrong, arguing doesn't fix it."
Scarlett raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That sounds… very patient of you."
Lucien almost smirked.
"It's not patience."
He turned his head slightly.
"If talking doesn't work… there are other methods."
Scarlett stared at him for a second.
Then laughed softly despite herself.
"Not what I expected."
"It rarely is."
The tension eased—just a little.
But Lucien wasn't relaxed.
Not even close.
Because something else had already begun.
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Cold.
A breeze passed through the open road—not strong, but… wrong.
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
There it was.
Again.
That unnatural alignment.
Not coincidence.
Construction.
His gaze moved instantly.
Left.
Right.
Forward.
And in that moment—
Everything connected.
Not far ahead, a homeowner was repairing a wooden fence. With a sharp pull of his hammer, a rusted nail was yanked free—but the force sent it flying.
The nail hit the ground.
Rolled.
Stopped.
Point upward.
Lucien's eyes darkened.
Nearby, a worker stood on a ladder trimming branches from a tree. The cut wood left behind sharp, angled ends—like crude spears pointing outward.
Further down the road—
A motorcycle.
Two people riding closely, laughing, leaning into each other, completely unaware.
Too unaware.
At the same time—
Inside the car—
Music started playing.
Suddenly.
Without input.
A distorted, familiar tune.
Scarlett frowned immediately.
"What the—?"
She tapped the dashboard lightly.
"I didn't turn that on…"
Lucien didn't respond.
His focus had already locked onto the chain.
Because now—
It was accelerating.
The motorcycle moved forward.
The tire rolled—
Over the nail.
A sharp pop echoed.
The tire burst instantly.
The bike lost control.
The rider panicked.
The woman screamed.
The vehicle veered sharply—directly toward the tree.
"Watch out—!" Scarlett shouted instinctively.
Too late.
The crash came hard.
The impact shook the tree violently.
Above—
The worker lost his grip.
And the chainsaw slipped from his hands.
Time slowed.
The spinning blade tore through the air.
Straight toward the car.
Straight toward Scarlett.
Her pupils shrank.
Her body froze.
No reaction.
No movement.
Just instinctive fear locking everything in place.
Then—
Heat.
Burning.
The talisman against her chest flared violently.
The pain snapped her out of paralysis.
Her foot slammed the accelerator.
The car lurched forward.
Just enough.
The chainsaw sliced through the space where her head had been a fraction of a second ago.
It crashed into the back seat, shredding leather, sending fragments flying everywhere.
Scarlett gasped, her breathing completely out of control now.
But the danger—
Wasn't over.
The debris scattered forward.
Her vision blurred.
Her grip loosened.
The car accelerated unintentionally.
"Brake!" Lucien said sharply.
Scarlett reacted instantly—
But the wheels slipped.
The car jerked sideways.
Control—
Lost.
Lucien turned his head.
And in that exact moment—
A sharpened branch, angled like a spear from the roadside tree—
Shot toward the passenger side window.
Fast.
Precise.
Deadly.
The tip stopped—
Less than five centimeters from his eye.
For a split second—
Everything was silent.
No sound.
No movement.
Just the undeniable presence of something watching.
Calculating.
Adjusting.
Lucien didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
His gaze remained steady.
Cold.
Focused.
Because now—
There was no doubt left.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't coincidence.
This—
Was intent.
And the second chain had just begun.