As soon as I heard that, I recalled the situations Eve had survived against all odds. Falling off a cliff, stabbed in the chest—only to be saved by a blade missing her heart by mere centimeters.
It was as if this girl were a heroine with absurdly thick plot armor. And yet, her body was no different from any ordinary human's. Fire would still kill her if she wasn't quick enough. Still, somehow, I doubted she would die so easily.
Her power made the impossible possible.
> [Do you think it was Will, or maybe Hansel, who burned the house?]
Both had ties to Igor's death—and possibly to secrets about him they didn't want exposed.
> [Possibly. I'll talk to you later.]
She ended the call abruptly.
I pinched my chin, frowning as I mulled over my next move. Helping Eve seemed unnecessary—she would be fine.
If that was the case, my focus should shift to Hansel and Will.
Will's whereabouts were uncertain, but Hansel... I could find her on my own.
Before heading out, though, I needed to deal with a few things. I waited a few more minutes, doing nothing.
Then, my vision blurred—and I 'saw' a new flame.
That's two, I thought, watching for any movement.
But the rat stayed frozen in place.
Had it been caught? Or was there simply no unfamiliar Honor nearby?
The rat was designed to tail unfamiliar Honors, completing its mission once none remained.
I needed to confirm its status—without getting caught.
I stared at the ceiling, working out a plan. It didn't take long.
With a rough idea in mind, I moved immediately.
I took a slow drag and transformed the smoke into tiny beads.
Stepping out of the house, I immediately felt a pair of eyes on me. It made my skin crawl.
I masked the feeling perfectly, keeping my pace casual, my face flat—just another guy strolling down the street, feigning ignorance.
All the while, I kept tabs on them: someone hidden inside an abandoned treehouse, unmoving.
Once I was about two hundred meters away, I turned my head toward them and smiled.
In a flash, I released my focus and dissolved into translucent mist—vanishing on the spot.
I crossed the distance instantly and reformed behind the target.
He was sitting, oblivious.
One of the beads shifted into the shape of a gun with a soft click as I cocked the hammer.
The man—clad in a battlesuit bearing a grim reaper emblem—froze. Slowly, he raised his hands and stood.
"Who ordered you to observe Yurim?" I asked, voice low.
"I don't know. I was hired through a middleman."
"Aren't you from Synth?"
The emblem said it all: Grim's Kitchen. A squad that operated in the shadows, removing traitors and enemies of Synth.
Why claim a freelance cover when the emblem spoke otherwise?
"I don't know. They just told me to wear it."
He wasn't from Synth?
I frowned, unsettled.
"Is it the same for your friend?"
"Friend? I'm alone!"
Instantly, a chill prickled across my skin.
Before I could dissolve into mist, my mind blanked—just for a moment.
When my senses returned, the man was melting.
His body turned to a strange dark liquid, dripping and pooling on the floor.
I looked down.
Sticky black liquid had already engulfed my feet.
I couldn't move. Worse—I couldn't use my powers either.
The liquid crept higher, crawling up to my ankles.
The more it spread, the stronger the scent of death became.
Panic sharpened my thoughts.
I tried reshaping one of my smoke beads into a clone—failed.
I couldn't transform the beads, but I could still *move* them.
It felt like handling stiff clay—still malleable, but resistant to change.
My mind raced.
The gun was still intact. Five bullets remained.
Nearby, wisps of smoke drifted lazily.
I glanced at my hand. My heightened physical strength hadn't abandoned me.
Ideas clicked into place.
A slow smile curled on my lips.
---
**Third Person POV**
"He's too easy! Way too easy!"
A man standing atop a lamppost shouted gleefully, drawing curious stares from passersby.
> [Teru, what's going on?] a woman's voice crackled from his watch.
"I caught him! I caught him!"
> [Caught who? Wait, what's happening?]
"Sunny! Sunny!" Teru bellowed, eyes wide with manic excitement.
"The King Phantom! The one who kills silently—like a ghost!"
He threw back his head and laughed wildly.
> [What?! You killed him?! Teru, explain! You were only supposed to observe Yurim! Why did you kill Sunny?!]
But Teru only laughed harder, drowning out her frantic shouting.
Then—he stopped.
Realization flickered across his face.
Slowly, he turned his head—and there he was.
Sunny.
Legless, blood trailing to the ground, grinning at him with wicked delight.
Mist wings, faintly translucent, beat gently behind Sunny's back, keeping him aloft.
Teru's smile faltered.
A creeping dread seized him.
His instincts screamed at him to run—but he stood frozen.
"Is this for real?" Teru muttered, shaken to his core.