He… Hello.
The man leaned forward; our eyes were perfectly level. Without breaking his gaze he asked, "What is your name?"
"W-Wind," I stammered.
"A pleasant name," he said, a faint smile on his face. "I have a question for you, Wind. Answer it wrong, and I'll kill you right here. Consider that your warning."
What nonsense was this? I scanned the area in panic, but there was no one to help me.
"Now, Wind…" he said, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I smell my missing man on you — the one who vanished yesterday. Why do you carry his scent?"
What was he talking about? A cop looking to frame me? But he moved too fast, too fluidly. He wasn't ordinary. Could he be…?
"I—I… I don't understand. I don't know what you mean," I finally managed.
The man raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. His blue eyes flared blood-red — like the monster's from yesterday. Memories struck me like lightning as he began to count down: "Three… Two…"
I swallowed hard.
"I killed him! But please, you have to believe me!" I shouted, lifting my shirt to show my wounds. "If I hadn't, he would've killed me!"
The calm smile that always lingered on his face widened into a dazzling, terrifying grin. How many hearts had that smile stolen? He studied me a moment longer, then his expression hardened; even that faint smile vanished.
"You expect me to believe that?" he roared, grabbing my collar and hauling me close. Our faces were barely a hand's breadth apart. "How could you have killed him with this weak body?"
It was over. I was caught. I told him everything — the rock to the head, gouging out an eye… every detail.
"T-That's all. Please believe me! He attacked first!" I stammered.
He let go of my collar and stood, staring at the horizon as if watching the sunset.
"Do you think who struck first matters?" he asked coldly, thumb pointing at himself. "What matters is that someone of mine was harmed. How do you intend to pay for that?"
Tears spilled from my eyes under the weight of the stress I'd been carrying. God, why test me like this? Why? I sank to my knees and wept in silence.
"But I'll give you two options. I can kill you now… or you can take the place of the man you killed and become my new man."
W-What? A chance. If I died here, everything I'd worked for — every effort and dream — would be wasted. My promise to lay the world at my mother's feet would become a lie.
"I—I choose the second one! But please… at least let me finish high school," I pleaded.
He laughed. "Hahaha! You really think that frail body of yours can accomplish anything? Fine. I'll give you until you graduate. Use that time to train. I'll give you occasional missions. If, in the end, you're still weak, I'll find a replacement. Understood?"
"Understood, sir."
"Lift your head. Open your mouth. If a single drop goes to waste, you'll pay the price," he said.
I obeyed. Head back, mouth open. He drew a silver-like knife from his pocket, sliced his palm, and squeezed. The warm, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. As the last drop fell it threatened to overflow. Desperate to rid myself of the vile taste, I shut my eyes and swallowed it in one forced gulp. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from vomiting and tried to conjure something beautiful in my mind.
Just as a small relief came, it felt as if thousands of needles pierced every inch of my body. A crushing pain, like being squeezed in a vise, folded me double on the floor. I couldn't cry out; tears traced silent paths down my cheeks. He watched me quietly, a faint, curious smile on his face, as if observing an intriguing experiment.
After minutes of writhing, just as I tried to push myself up, he said, "Wait — it's not over yet." True to his words I felt flames erupt from inside me, searing outward.
"I'm burning! I'm burning! Water — please, water!" I begged.
"Quiet, fool. Your wounds are merely healing," he said coldly.
Exhausted from the pain and burning, I lay on the ground, dust streaking my clothes. I found the wounds on my arm and elsewhere had vanished. He came to my side, offered a hand, and pulled me up. After patting my shoulder a few times he said, "Congratulations. You lasted longer than the others."
"Thank you," I answered, voice still trembling.
"Now, your phone number," he said.
"My phone… it broke in yesterday's incident. You can't reach me that way," I replied.
"Your number," he insisted. I recited it. He didn't write it down.
"You didn't record it?" I asked. He tapped his temple. "It's all here."
He pulled a wallet from his back pocket, turned away, and when he faced me again he held five hundred-dollar bills. I took them, checking them out of habit.
"Fool — checking if they're real? They're real. Buy a phone with this by tomorrow night," he said.
"No… I've never seen one before. Also… what should I call you?" I asked.
He spoke with pride: "AZEL. Your first and last master — Azel."
"Azel? Unusual name. What does it mean?"
"'Noble,'" he said simply.
"Tell no one about this. I'm leaving now," he added, and began to walk slowly in the exact opposite direction of my home. The moment I glanced away to brush the dust from my clothes, he was gone.
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