"Ahahaha~ Saria, fancy meeting you here."
"...Mobius, have you finally gone insane?"
"How's this body? Pretty good, right? I got the Cloning tech from Parvis and made some improvements! It still can't surpass the usual limits of Cloning—you still need an existing original to create a copy—but I've managed to tweak the genetic code just a little... Ow, ow, ow! Saria, stop hitting my face! I was just teasing Ifrit a little, that's all!"
"You lunatic… first you change your own body's race, and next time what? Planning to change gender too?"
"Of course~! Actually, that's exactly why I came here—to update Ifrit's data. You know, she's the only known case who's gone from a Savra to a Sarkaz. That kind of transformation is priceless for my Cloning research! Don't worry, I'm not here to take her away—just a few blood samples. Rhine Lab still has plenty of the Ifrit Project data, but I need to see how racial transformation affects the results."
"I heard Rhine Lab recently established a Department of Philosophy."
"Oh~ you know about that? Not many do. You still keep tabs on Rhine Lab, huh? The General Council's been saving the position of Head of Defense for you, you know~"
"..."
"Sigh~ I really do miss the old days when we worked together. Too bad things change. Now I'm the Head of the Philosophy Department… and you're just a small-time operator for a medical company. Anyway, blood sample collected! Honestly, this kid's so timid—she fainted the second I touched her."
"Mobius… how's that clone body of yours performing?"
"Eh, it's decent, I guess. This is a new model—still needs refinement. For now, think of it as a Feline version Mobius, your average Feline woman."
"I see… Mobius, in a few days, I'll personally deliver Ifrit's blood sample to you."
"…What do you mean by that? Wait, hold on—why are you raising your fist again?! I'm warning you, don't you dare—"
"Mobius. Even if you are an immortal, there are things better left untouched. Keep crossing that line, and one day you'll lose yourself completely… Consider this advice from a friend."
"I don't need you to lecture me. I know my limits."
"Your words remind me of drug addicts I've met. They said the exact same thing."
"Heh, don't you dare compare those junkies to the great Doctor Mobius—! (Columbian curse) Saria! Do you even know how valuable this clone body is?! Let go of me!"
"I'll compensate your loss… but I won't allow anyone to defy the laws of nature."
"Existence is reason enough! Who do you think you are, to deny someone else's path?"
"I am Saria—former Head of Defense at Rhine Lab, and now an Operator of Rhodes Island… and I'd like to think I'm still your friend, Mobius."
"…This is a crowded resort city. Are you trying to cause a scene?"
"I'll make sure you have a nice place to rest."
"...Saria, you—(Columbian curse)!"
"Sorry. I'll bring you the blood sample later… and I'll make this quick for your body."
"…You'd better keep your word."
It hurts so much…
Damn it, Saria must be jealous of how beautiful this body is. She can't stand it.
Ah well… you're all so kind to me, how could I possibly hurt you?
But it's fine… I can wait.
Wait until your illusions about me shatter—until you see what I truly am—and your kindness turns to hatred…
Then I won't have to hesitate anymore.
Sigh… am I too soft-hearted sometimes?
No matter. What matters most is clarity of thought.
I never had any grand ideals or noble ambitions anyway.
As a being of consciousness, the Black Snake cared more for intent than for deeds.
After all, for the Black Snake, the heart spoke louder than actions ever could.
In a dimly lit room—
Medical staff from Cape Group's subsidiary, Health & Safety – Siesta Branch Hospital, were carefully loading medical equipment back into their transport vehicle.
They had been urgently dispatched under direct orders from "the Boss," bringing along top-grade instruments and the best personnel available in the region.
Now, though weary from the long operation, they returned with smiles and bright hopes for the future.
After all, opportunities to catch even a glimpse of the Boss were rare—and even rarer was the man's generosity. He had paid them each the equivalent of a full month's salary.
And in Cape Group, salaries always matched ability. The more skilled you were, the higher you earned—especially for specialized technical staff like them.
Yes, the work was exhausting, but the benefits were worth every drop of sweat.
"Yo, you're awake."
A teasing voice echoed near the bedside. "The operation went perfectly—you're all fixed up now. Your legs are as good as new~"
Cronin stirred, blinking away the haze. His gaze fell upon the red-suited figure beside him—Cape himself.
"…Thank you, Mr. Cape."
Though still uneasy, Cronin exhaled in relief as he flexed his once-shattered legs, finding them whole again. Gratitude—genuine and fearful—filled his tone.
"Oh, right," Cape continued casually, peeling an apple with effortless grace. "While you were out, someone came to visit you~"
The blade moved deftly, curling the apple skin into a perfect spiral before slicing the fruit into eight flawless pieces.
Cronin opened his mouth to offer polite refusal, but Cape didn't give him the chance—he skewered four slices with two toothpicks, popped them into his own mouth, and set the remaining half neatly on a tray just out of Cronin's reach.
"Would you care for an apple, Herman?" Cape turned slightly, his tone almost playful. "It's not every day you get one personally peeled by me."
He wasn't speaking to Cronin anymore. His gaze—and grin—were directed toward a figure seated on the sofa, back turned toward them.
A head of light pink hair caught the dim light.
Cronin's pulse froze.
No… No, it can't be!
His breathing quickened, panic rising like ice water through his veins.
Cape Group wouldn't betray me… would they?
Maybe… maybe it's just someone else with pink hair…
He tried to convince himself—tried to push down the dread clawing at his chest. The thought of escaping one nightmare only to fall into another was unbearable.
But then, the figure stood.
"You flatter me," the pink-haired visitor said coolly, turning to face them. "But I'm afraid I'll have to decline your apple."
And as that familiar face came fully into view—paired with Cape's smug, predatory smile—Cronin finally understood.
The silence in the room grew heavy.
The pleas he'd made to Cape Group… the promises of aid that never came…
Everything clicked into place.
He'd been fooled.
Completely, utterly deceived.