Two days have passed since the missions.

  And one day since Uta left on his journey to negotiate with the Queen of the continent.

  The Dragunov mansion is strangely quiet.

  Too quiet.

  In a large room full of maps, documents, and accounting books…

  Shizuka is sitting.

  Papers everywhere.

  Economic maps.

  Resource lists.

  Trade routes.

  Reconstruction costs.

  Her cold, calculating gaze analyzes endless columns of numbers.

  She speaks to herself quietly.

  —If we move agricultural production to the northern port…

  She writes something down.

  —We could reduce the deficit by six percent…

  She flips another page.

  Her expression begins to tighten.

  —But then the interior transport route collapses…

  She sighs.

  She massages the bridge of her nose.

  —How is an entire country supposed to sustain itself economically…?

  At that moment…

  The door bursts open.

  Without knocking.

  Of course.

  Kuro enters.

  Huge smile.

  Walking with his hands behind his back.

  —Good morning, my gothic princess.

  Silence.

  Shizuka does not lift her gaze.

  Kuro continues.

  —I just wanted to remind you that I am currently in command of this magnificent organization.

  He strolls through the room like a general.

  —So… technically… you should address me as Temporary Supreme Lord.

  Shizuka keeps writing.

  —No.

  Kuro puts a hand to his chest.

  —What do you mean no?

  —No.

  —Not even a “my lord”.

  —No.

  Kuro approaches the desk.

  He leans over.

  Looks at the papers.

  —What are you doing?

  —Preventing the economy of the territory Uta controls from collapsing.

  Kuro blinks.

  —Ah.

  Pause.

  —Is that bad?

  Shizuka slowly raises her gaze.

  Her cold eyes pierce his soul.

  —Kuro.

  Pause.

  —We are trying to sustain an entire country with an improvised economy, damaged cities, and three unstable trade routes.

  Silence.

  Kuro nods slowly.

  —I understand.

  Pause.

  —What if we open a casino?

  Shizuka looks at him.

  Long.

  Very long.

  Kuro raises a finger.

  —Listen.

  —Casino.

  —Illegal fights.

  —Food.

  —Festival.

  —Tourism.

  Shizuka closes her eyes.

  Takes a deep breath.

  —Kuro…

  —Yes.

  —Leave this room.

  —Because my genius overwhelms you?

  —Because if you speak for another second…

  She slowly raises a pen.

  —I will stab it into your neck.

  Silence.

  Kuro raises his hands.

  —Understood.

  He starts walking toward the door.

  But before leaving…

  Shizuka speaks again.

  —Wait.

  Kuro turns.

  —Yes, my cold accounting empress?

  —Go check on the boys.

  Kuro tilts his head.

  —Yes.

  Shizuka looks back at the papers.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Kuro smiles.

  —That sounds like an official mission.

  He taps his chest with his thumb.

  —The Temporary Supreme Lord will handle it.

  He walks toward the door.

  But before leaving he turns.

  —Hey, Shizuka.

  She does not lift her gaze.

  —Yes?

  Kuro smiles mischievously.

  —When Uta comes back…

  —I’m going to tell him you obeyed me perfectly.

  Shizuka answers without looking at him.

  —If you do that…

  Pause.

  —I will tell him you suggested financing the country with a casino.

  Silence.

  Kuro freezes.

  —…That would be treason.

  And he quickly leaves the room.

  Shizuka sighs.

  She looks again at the mountain of papers.

  —I need another coffee.

  The infirmary is lit by soft lamps.

  When Kuro opens the door, the first thing he sees is the disaster.

  On a stretcher lies Hayate.

  Arm completely in a cast.

  Sitting with his back against the wall.

  Nervously moving the fingers of his healthy hand.

  Crack.

  Crack.

  Crack.

  Next to him is Ryōna.

  Changing a damp cloth on Yūrei’s forehead, who lies unconscious on another stretcher.

  The boy is soaked in sweat.

  Breathing heavily.

  His skin burns.

  Kuro enters whistling.

  —Well, well…

  He leans against the wall looking at Hayate.

  —For once you fight…

  He smiles mockingly.

  —You almost died.

  Hayate frowns.

  He scratches his neck nervously.

  —Thanks for the moral support…

  Kuro points his thumb toward Yūrei.

  —And what’s wrong with this one?

  Ryōna presses the cloth against the boy’s forehead.

  —Shizuka said that…

  She thinks about the words.

  —His body released his magic for the first time.

  Pause.

  —But for real.

  —Without containing it.

  Kuro makes a sound with his tongue.

  —Tsss.

  He crosses his arms.

  —Weakness.

  From a chair in the corner of the room, a voice responds.

  Deep.

  —Hey, pretty boy.

  Everyone looks there.

  Akuma is sitting with his arms crossed.

  Watching.

  —Don’t mess with him…

  His eyes shine with warning.

  —Or you’ll taste my fist again.

  Kuro looks at him.

  Then smiles.

  That annoying smile.

  —Again?

  He points his thumb at himself.

  —But I won.

  Akuma clenches his jaw.

  His knuckles crack.

  —Because you ran away.

  Kuro shrugs.

  —Are you sure?

  Ryōna sighs.

  —Please don’t fight here…

  Hayate watches the scene.

  Looks at Kuro.

  Looks at Akuma.

  Looks at Yūrei.

  Looks at his casted arm.

  He swallows.

  Scratches his neck again.

  —I don’t understand something…

  The three of them look at him.

  Hayate lowers his gaze.

  —Why do I try so hard?

  Pause.

  His voice sounds smaller.

  —I’ll never be like you.

  He raises his gaze toward Kuro and Akuma.

  —Monsters.

  In the kitchen of the Dragunov mansion…

  The scene is much less elegant.

  Empty plates.

  Broken bread.

  Meat disappearing at suspicious speed.

  At the table are Tadaaki and Naoko.

  Eating like wild animals.

  Tadaaki chews calmly.

  Naoko devours.

  Literally devours.

  —So…

  Naoko says with his mouth full.

  —Your Reikon came out by itself?

  Tadaaki drinks water.

  —Not by itself.

  —I forced it.

  Naoko puts down the plate.

  Leans forward.

  —How?

  Tadaaki shrugs.

  —I was tired.

  —The serpent was going to kill us.

  —I thought about you.

  —I thought about what Akihiro said.

  Pause.

  —And I pushed.

  Naoko blinks.

  —You pushed?

  —Yes.

  —How do you push… your soul?

  Tadaaki bites another piece of meat.

  —I don’t know.

  —I pushed it.

  Naoko frowns.

  —Explain it better.

  —I can’t.

  —Why?

  —Because I don’t know how it works.

  Naoko slams the table.

  —That’s not an explanation!

  Tadaaki looks at him.

  —It worked.

  Naoko points at him.

  —But I did it too!

  —I pushed too!

  —And nothing happened!

  Tadaaki chews calmly.

  —Maybe you pushed wrong.

  Naoko opens his eyes wide.

  —I pushed wrong?

  —Yes.

  —How do you push a soul wrong?

  Tadaaki drinks water again.

  —I don’t know.

  —But you did.

  Naoko stands up indignantly.

  —That’s unfair!

  —I want the red aura too!

  —I want epic attacks too!

  Tadaaki points at the plate.

  —You have food.

  Naoko freezes.

  Looks at the plate.

  Looks at Tadaaki.

  —That doesn’t count.

  Tadaaki calmly steals another piece of meat from Naoko’s plate.

  Naoko sees it.

  Silence.

  —…Hey.

  Tadaaki keeps chewing.

  —What?

  —That was mine.

  —Now it’s mine.

  Naoko leans forward.

  —Give it back!

  —I already ate it.

  Naoko slams the table.

  —Thief!

  Tadaaki answers dryly.

  —Street rat.

  Naoko growls.

  —I’m a street rat too!

  —But worse.

  Naoko looks at him.

  —You know what?

  —War.

  Tadaaki smiles.

  —War.

  Naoko attacks him with a piece of bread.

  The Dragunov mansion remains calm.

  But it is a strange calm.

  As if everyone were catching their breath before the next storm.

  In the library…

  The windows let in a soft afternoon light.

  Among enormous shelves full of ancient books is Akihiro.

  Sitting at a table.

  With several books open.

  But the one he holds now is not about magic.

  It is an old martial arts book.

  His eyes move across the pages with absolute concentration.

  Position diagrams.

  Pressure points.

  Hand-to-hand combat movements.

  Akihiro closes the book for a moment.

  He looks at his own hands.

  Bandages.

  Cuts.

  Bruises.

  He sighs.

  —If my mind cannot save me…

  Pause.

  —Then I will have to learn to save myself.

  He opens the book again.

  And continues reading.

  In the mansion garden…

  The wind slowly moves the leaves of the trees.

  Under one of them is Minato.

  Sleeping deeply.

  Mouth open.

  Snoring without shame.

  Next to him there are…

  Food remains.

  Many food remains.

  Some clearly were not there before.

  Sitting nearby, leaning against the tree trunk, is Mitsume.

  Bandages on arms and shoulders.

  But calm.

  She holds a small book.

  Reading silently.

  From time to time she lifts her gaze.

  She watches Minato snore like a sleeping animal.

  She sighs.

  And returns to her book.

  The garden is peaceful.

  In the office, Shizuka Dragunov finally closes the accounting books.

  Too many numbers.

  Too many problems.

  She sighs.

  —I need air…

  She walks toward the balcony.

  Opens the doors.

  The cold night wind enters the room.

  But something is not right.

  Shizuka frowns.

  In the distance…

  In the city…

  Fire.

  Several columns of smoke rise into the sky.

  Shizuka does not hesitate.

  She puts on her jacket.

  And leaves the room quickly.

  In the infirmary…

  Kuro and Akuma are sitting facing each other at a table.

  Hands locked.

  Arm wrestling.

  Both tense.

  Veins visible.

  Hayate watches from the stretcher.

  Ryōna too.

  —Come on Akuma… —Kuro says smiling—.

  —Your arm is shaking.

  Akuma growls.

  —Shut up.

  —I’m going to break your wrist.

  At that moment…

  The door bursts open.

  Shizuka enters.

  —We have a problem.

  Both look at her.

  —What’s happening?

  Shizuka speaks quickly.

  —Fire in the city.

  The atmosphere changes instantly.

  Kuro releases the table.

  Stands up.

  —I’m coming with you.

  Shizuka shakes her head.

  —No.

  —You stay here.

  —Guarding the mansion.

  Kuro frowns.

  —No way.

  —I’m going with you.

  Shizuka looks directly at him.

  Cold.

  —That’s an order.

  —The mission Uta gave you.

  Kuro stays still.

  For the first time…

  He does not answer.

  He only clenches his teeth.

  From the chair, Akuma stands up.

  He looks at Kuro.

  —Relax, protect my brother.

  Then he looks at Shizuka.

  He cracks his neck.

  —I’m coming with you.

  —I can absorb the fire.

  Shizuka watches him for a second.

  She nods.

  —Good.

  The two leave the infirmary.

  Fast.

  In the hallway…

  A figure comes out of the library.

  It is Akihiro.

  He sees the movement.

  —What’s happening?

  Shizuka does not stop.

  —Fires in the city.

  —It could be an attack.

  Akihiro does not hesitate for even half a second.

  He closes the book he was holding.

  And begins walking behind them.

  —Then let’s go.

  The city burns.

  Buildings in flames.

  Broken glass.

  People fleeing through the streets.

  In the middle of the chaos, several figures watch from the rooftop of a building.

  The fire illuminates their faces.

  At the front stands Ivanov Migirosu.

  A lit cigar between his fingers.

  The ash falls slowly while he observes the fire he himself caused.

  Behind him are the others.

  Zavidan Migirosu.

  Rusalka Tsarovich.

  Sokuto Hayaoka.

  Inuzora Saketsu.

  And Sokuto’s two bodyguards.

  Sai and Nendo.

  Ivanov exhales smoke.

  Then he speaks.

  Calm.

  —Zavidan.

  —Rusalka.

  He points at the burning city.

  —Stay here.

  —Keep burning everything.

  —I want chaos.

  Zavidan smiles brutally.

  —With pleasure, father.

  His metal knuckles collide.

  CLANG.

  Rusalka slowly licks her lips.

  She watches the flames as if they were a show.

  —I’ve waited for this too long…

  Then Ivanov turns his head.

  —Sokuto.

  —Inuzora.

  Ivanov smiles.

  —With me.

  —Let’s destroy the mansion.

  Silence.

  Inuzora Saketsu stops drinking from his flask.

  He looks at the fire.

  Then he looks at Ivanov.

  He sighs.

  —…Tsk.

  Sokuto Hayaoka smiles.

  Wide.

  Amused.

  —Ooooh…

  He adjusts his sunglasses.

  —Now this is exciting business.

  He turns to his bodyguards.

  —Sai.

  The giant smiles.

  The smile of someone who enjoys crushing things.

  Sokuto points at the city.

  —Stay here.

  —Have fun.

  Sai nods slowly.

  His knuckles crack.

  —Perfect.

  Then Sokuto looks at the other.

  —Nendo.

  The two-meter giant answers without emotion.

  —Yes.

  —You’re coming with me.

  Nendo simply nods.

  —Understood.

  Sokuto rests his shining sword on his shoulder.

  He smiles while looking at the flames.

  —Let’s go meet…

  —The house of the famous Dragunov.

  Ivanov takes the last drag of his cigar.

  He lets it fall to the ground.

  Crushes it with his boot.

  —The hunt begins.