Three days had passed since Al visited Malika Makazhar Orphanage.
Now, he returned to the city—walking leisurely along the sidewalk, bathed in the golden-orange light of sunset. The buildings began to glow one by one as the sky shifted from tangerine to violet.
But before heading home, Al decided to stop by his best friend's house—Indra.
As he stepped into the yard, an uneasy feeling crept over him.
The atmosphere was... too quiet.
Unnaturally quiet.
He knocked several times.
Silence.
Moments later, the door slowly creaked open.
"Al?" Indra appeared, his face gloomy and eyes swollen from crying.
Al blinked in surprise. Normally, it was Indra's mom who greeted him with cheerful energy and the smell of home-cooked food.
"Indra? You're opening the door? Where's your mom? Are you home alone?"
Indra looked down and said nothing. He opened the door wider and motioned for Al to come in.
Al stepped inside. The unease only grew stronger.
So quiet...
In the living room, there was no TV sound. No cheerful humming from Indra's dad in the garage.
But all the cars were still there.
The family's fish delivery truck still parked.
His dad's shoes, his mom's slippers—everything was in its usual place.
Hmmm… this is strange.
Inside Indra's room, the air was even heavier.
Indra sat at the edge of his bed, leaning against the wall with his head down.
Al stood there, frowning in confusion.
"Oi… what happened?"
No answer.
"Oi... answer me, oi!" Al pressed.
Indra looked up, wanting to say something—but no words came out.
"If you're tired, just lie down for now," Indra mumbled, forcing a smile—unsuccessfully.
Al didn't sit. He crossed his arms.
"Indra, you're not a kid. This way of communicating is pointless," Al said flatly.
"You act all gloomy and pathetic, but talk like everything's fine. You're like someone who doesn't want to be seen yet always shows up. Since when were you a tsundere, Indra?"
Indra lowered his head like a scolded elementary schooler.
"You're right," he said quietly.
"Then talk."
Finally, Indra opened up.
"Mom and Dad… they've been under a lot of pressure lately. Not because of work, but because of intimidation."
He paused.
"The fish business in Makazhar is controlled by the Norvalien family. Their interference made it so my dad hasn't been able to sell anything. All our buyers suddenly canceled their contracts. But that's not the worst part… the Norvaliens sent collectors to demand payments—thugs started coming around, intimidating them. Now Mom and Dad are too scared to even leave the house."
Al went silent. His eyes narrowed.
Then something clicked—he recalled something from a few weeks ago.
"So out of everything… the part that bothers you the most is the guilt," Al said.
Indra gave a weak nod.
"There's nothing wrong with helping those in need, Indra. You know that better than I do."
"Maybe I should've been a little more selfish," Indra whispered.
Al sighed and patted Indra's shoulder.
"Be your true, kind self, Indra. And why didn't you just say this sooner?
No wonder you bailed on our research day. I'm rich now, you know. I can actually help.
This time, let me be the one to support you."
Indra looked down. "Sorry…"
"Don't worry about it," Al said with a faint smile.
"Starting tomorrow, things will be fine."
Without another word, Al left the room.
He made a call, his voice low but filled with clear, sharp instructions.
Indra, still inside, felt a bit better. To him, it seemed like Al was just trying to cheer him up.
Moments later, Al returned with a wide grin.
"Oh right, where's the soda and snacks?"
"Hah?? Are you serious? I'm stressed out and you're thinking about snacks?! Aaargh!!"
Indra yelled, punching a pillow—
But his face now showed a little more light.
Al just laughed.
From his pocket, he pulled out three black bracelets carved with strange ancient-like symbols and handed them to Indra.
"What's this, Al?"
"A gift. Give the other two to your parents. Tell them to wear it at all times. Never take it off."
Indra looked at the bracelets in confusion.
"Bracelets? What's this engraving? Is this some kind of charm? Since when did you start dabbling in magic?"
"It's not. Just wear it, don't ask too many questions.
Let's say it's a good luck charm."
Before Indra could say more, Al was already at the door.
"I'm off. Say hi to your mom and dad for me. Sorry I couldn't greet them properly.
I've been away for three days—I should head home."
Before Indra could respond…
Al was already gone.
The house felt lighter. The darkness was starting to lift.
Al walked along the city streets, now dim and quiet.
The sky hung low and grey, as if it too sensed that something foul would taint the afternoon.
Al's heart remained calm—until...
His trained ears picked up a vulgar voice coming from a narrow alley nearby.
"Hurry up. I want to nap before we hit the club tonight," a man's gruff voice said. "What a pitiful family, hahaha!"
"And that old hag… if she keeps yapping, we'll teach her a lesson.
A real adult lesson. Right in front of her husband, hahaha," another laughed crudely.
"No one messes with the Norvaliens."
Al froze. His eyes sharpened.
Old hag...
So these are the thugs harassing Indra's family.
Silence.
His breath suddenly turned cold.
He stepped into the alley without a word. Then finally, in a sharp tone, he called out:
"You worthless thugs."
The four men jumped, startled.
They turned—only to find a single high school boy standing there.
Seeing Al's slender frame, they snorted and laughed mockingly.
"Eh? A kid? What do you want, boy? Got a death wish?"
"Is this brat lost or what? Hahaha!" another chimed in.
Al said nothing.
He simply raised a hand and traced a symbol in the air.
The atmosphere shifted.
Invisible light enveloped the alley, forming a barrier dome around them.
Outside, the alley vanished.
No sound. No sight.
Completely cut off from the world.
The thugs didn't realize anything.
Al looked at them, one by one.
His black eyes now reflected restrained fury.
"What were you planning to do… to that family?"
One of the men stepped forward, smirking.
"Why? You part of that family?"
"You wanna know? We'll make them learn the rules of this city.
You don't mess with the Norvaliens.
We'll break them—and the mom, especially... heh, I think you know what comes next. Hahaha…"
Al closed his eyes.
Silent.
He smiled faintly.
"So... torture and rape," he whispered.
The men grew annoyed at his attitude.
KRRAK! Two of them lunged without warning.
Their fists aimed at Al's face—
But he dodged effortlessly.
Smooth. Effortless.
"Oh, look at you, brat!" one of them snarled.
Now all four charged in.
But…
Too slow. Too clumsy. Too exposed.
With grace that didn't match his youthful frame, Al moved like a shadow—blinking behind them.
Each strike hit with deadly precision.
DORR!
One was slammed into the wall—cracks spidered across the stone.
CRACK!
Another's knee was shattered from behind, the sound grotesque and loud.
The remaining two tried to run—
But the barrier held. They couldn't escape.
"Damn! We can't get out!" one shouted, punching empty air that felt like glass.
"What is this? Why can't we pass?!"
"Like you said," Al murmured—
Dragging the other two by their necks like lambs to slaughter, tossing them onto the pile.
"You want to torture and violate, right?"
His voice wasn't loud, but its chill cut through bone.
With a flick of his finger, invisible force surged toward their groins.
BRUUGGHH…
The four men screamed.
Their cries were muted from the outside.
Their insides torn apart.
The pain—unimaginable.
Wailing. Panic. Horror.
Al moved on.
He snapped their arms, one by one.
They were paralyzed.
Breathing was a struggle through whimpers.
Standing over them, Al's face was blank.
He inhaled, then spoke in a low voice:
"I'm just returning the favor—matching your intent.
But don't worry. I don't kill those who haven't earned death."
He turned, ready to leave—
Then raised his hand.
A seal—a glowing silver-blue circle of runes—appeared above their heads, spinning slowly before fading.
"This will erase your memories of me.
The barrier will disappear after 12 hours.
Enjoy the pain."
Their minds would forget the attacker—
But their wounds and agony would remain.
The alley became their prison.
Al walked through the empty street.
His steps calm, but his eyes still burned with fire.
His destination was now clear: the Norvalien residence.
"Norvalien, you've gone too far this time!"
---
Al arrived at the sprawling estate of the Norvalien family.
His gaze was sharp, his expression cold and composed, yet beneath that mask, the simmering anger was still written upon his face.
The area before him was vast, a territory befitting one of the old noble families. The main mansion rose in colonial grandeur, its elegant façade announcing its long-standing wealth and prestige.
Unlike the Virellano household, however, this estate was not isolated; it was surrounded by other large villas belonging to blood relatives, forming a tight-knit but expansive clan—one firmly under the patriarchal rule of Rudi's father.
For a fleeting moment, Al felt the raw urge to unleash destruction upon everyone inside, to let his fury consume the entire estate. But as his eyes swept across the scene before him—children laughing as they played, young men and women conversing warmly under the morning light, elders and middle-aged figures going about their daily lives with a sense of peace—his steps faltered. His chest tightened, his emotions calmed slightly, though the anger within him still refused to vanish.
"How can I expect to be accepted as just another ordinary human when I still harbor the desire to harm the innocent?" he whispered, his voice low but steady. "Huff... No. I'll only deal with those directly involved. That should be enough."
In that instant, his eyes glimmered with a radiant crimson glow. A wave of blackish-red energy enveloped his body, swirling violently like a storm before compressing inward.
FWOSHHH—
His figure vanished, leaving behind only the faint tremor of displaced air where he had once stood.
Moments later, Al reappeared within a shadowy corner of one of the estate's buildings. From his vantage point, he observed the bustle around him. Numerous servants and workers moved in and out, busy with their daily duties, unaware of the intruder among them.
"This should be the main building. Now I just need to find where they're hiding," he muttered under his breath.
Moving seamlessly through the narrow cracks of shadow, Al activated his magical elemental skill—Shadow Bind. His presence melted into the darkness, allowing him to slip unnoticed through the grand halls. The residence itself was filled with antique ornaments, many of them tied to imagery of the sea and water, revealing a hidden obsession or legacy tied to the family.
Eventually, his silent steps carried him to a long corridor that split a wide chamber. The place radiated restriction; it was clear that only select individuals were ever permitted to walk these halls. To Al's surprise, intricate magical barriers lined the area, interwoven like invisible walls of defense.
Sebastian's report was right. That shaman really is working with Rudi. Setting up barriers this powerful would make perfect sense if he could control a Disaster-level djinn like a Kuntilanak.
Al's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation.
He was just about to dissolve his shadow veil and storm through the room ahead—his target was likely within—when the door creaked open on its own.
Rudi stepped out, accompanied by his father.
With predatory swiftness, Al slipped out of the shadows, his feet landing silently on the ground. Within a heartbeat, he was behind them, watching as the two men strolled away, oblivious to his presence.
A wicked smile curved his lips. His prey was right there. His moment had come.
But then—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of multiple footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor, pulling his attention away.
A group of men emerged, clad in brown-black attire. They exuded menace, but one figure in particular stood out—a middle-aged man at the forefront, radiating an aura of domination, cruelty, and malice.
Al's instincts immediately urged caution. He reactivated his stealth mode and slipped silently into the corner of the corridor to observe.
"Mr. Daraka, you have finally arrived," Rudi's father greeted with a deferential tone. Both he and Rudi offered a slight bow. Though Rudi's movements were reluctant—his lingering resentment from being scolded by Daraka earlier still visible—he complied nonetheless.
Daraka gave a small nod, his sharp gaze falling on Rudi.
"Calm yourself, young man. I was too harsh that day. That was my fault. I should not have treated you that way," he said, his voice measured, his apology sounding sincere—though it carried the artificial polish of a man well-versed in deception.
Rudi merely nodded stiffly, soothed quickly by his father's hand on his shoulder. The three then exchanged words as they walked together.
Hidden in the shadows, Al leaned back against the wall, arms folded, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.
"To think... someone as lazy as me has been playing around this much lately. But this... this is entertaining," he mused silently.
His eyes sharpened, locking on Daraka.
"So he's the one I've been playing with all along. Daraka... hehe. Mid-Stage Master Level—Dark Magician. No wonder he could command a Disaster-level Djinn. That makes things interesting."
He listened closely to their exchange. From the conversation, it became clear that Daraka had temporarily cut ties, only to return, offering apologies and promising to continue the contract—his role being to press forward with a curse aimed at Al.
The reasoning sounded valid, though even Rudi appeared uncertain, his expression betraying confusion. Still, his father seemed to accept Daraka's explanation without question.
Hearing himself mentioned as the target again made Al want to laugh aloud.
"They're really persistent. I don't even understand why they're so obsessed with targeting me and Indra's family to this extent. But maybe that's just how human hearts are—sometimes far less reasonable than people like me."
His gaze swept the corridor. Everyone he needed to deal with was gathered in one place.
Perhaps it would be best to end this right here.
---