By the time the victory banquet concluded, it was already deep into the night. Yet the biting wind couldn't chill the lingering warmth. Throughout the silent streets, rows of golden streetlights still burned softly.
Like brothers forged from the same assembly line, they stood side by side, lighting up the entrance of Victoria Housekeeping and pushing back the darkness.
Clink.
A glass slipped weakly from Corin's hand, clattering against the table.
She lay sprawled atop it, eyelids drooping, yet stubbornly reached out again, trying to catch the rolling cup. But she ultimately failed. The glass rolled farther and farther away.
"W-wait… wait…"
Corin grew anxious. She stretched her arm as far as she could—only for sleepiness to crash over her once more.
Happiness had lasted too long tonight. By the time Corin tried resisting it, the weight of that happiness had already filled her limbs with lead. She drifted into a deep sleep.
Gurgle~ gurgle~ clack!
After tumbling across the table, the glass finally reached the edge—where Lycaon calmly caught it in his palm. He placed it back silently, careful not to disturb Corin's rest.
Rina smiled softly, her expression warm as she stroked Corin's hair. With an arm around her waist, she lifted the girl up.
"I'll take Corin back first."
"Alright. I'll stay and handle the rest of the cleanup."
Lycaon nodded. He watched Rina leave with Corin, then he let out a quiet breath and surveyed the battlefield left behind.
Even though everyone in Victoria Housekeeping was an elite, once they got rowdy, they were no different from ordinary people. Especially with Ellen and the Black-and-White Doll stirring everyone up, the celebration had devolved into a full-blown cake fight—cream everywhere.
"I'll take Ellen back first, then come back to help clean up."
A voice sounded. Lycaon turned—Phaga stood there.
He was choosing his grip carefully, holding Ellen while avoiding getting any more cream on her. Though Ellen already had plenty of cream on her… all smeared by Phaga himself.
"No need. You have school tomorrow."
Lycaon shook his head, declining the offer. Phaga's expression twitched.
But there was nothing he could do—he'd taken too many days off already. If this continued, both his homeroom teacher and the school administration would complain.
He exhaled helplessly. Fine. Clean up what he could, go home, sleep, and prep for school.
At least the day after tomorrow was the weekend. Carrying Ellen upstairs, Phaga began heading for the second floor—
But Lycaon suddenly spoke, as if remembering something important.
"Come to think of it, our revenge is about to begin."
Step.
Footsteps halted. Phaga spun around.
He stared at Lycaon, searching his expression. Lycaon met his gaze and nodded firmly.
His face turned serious. "The day after tomorrow—Sunday—is the Outer Ring's Tour de Inferno. It's a grand event on par with a mayoral election."
"This is a rare chance. Not only will the Outer Ring be packed, but many people from the city center will go watch out of curiosity."
"With crowds everywhere, even strict security won't be perfect. If it were easy to guard, why would they need such heavy security in the first place?"
Phaga's eyes darkened. His teeth clenched.
He would never forget how that car on the far side of the barrier crashed straight through it at full speed. If Phaga hadn't reacted in time—when the explosion hit, when the blast wave swallowed everything—
Ellen's life would have ended in that single moment of roaring flame. Hurt his family? Unforgivable.
He let out a long breath. His gaze softened when he looked down at the sleeping Ellen.
But that tenderness only deepened the coldness gathering inside. A vampire's fangs ached for the burn of blood.
Quietly, Phaga asked, "Do we have a plan?"
"First, we infiltrate and gather intel."
"We need to determine whether Lucius and Mors acted alone—or whether the entire Vanquishers faction is behind the assassination."
Lycaon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Rina and I will disguise ourselves as investment department staff from a city-based enterprise."
"Using the Tour de Inferno as an excuse, we'll reach out to Outer Ring factions and see what we can pick up."
"Corin has already scouted ahead."
"She applied as a server at a bar—perfect for gathering gossip with all the foot traffic."
"Phaga, you and Ellen will have to come up with your own cover identities."
...
Cold night met dawn. Dawn blurred into dusk.
Returning to school, Phaga was gloomy the entire day. From the moment he entered the classroom until dismissal, he never moved from his seat.
Lost in thought. Devising plans. Discarding them one after another.
Bang!
Phaga buried his head in his arms. His fingers clawed through his hair.
"Argh, this is so annoying!!!"
Undercover infiltration required perfect cover identities—especially with a target as dangerous as the Vanquishers. He'd done his homework.
The Vanquishers were top dogs of the Outer Ring. The Outer Ring as a whole wasn't strong, but they weren't pushovers.
Getting intel from them wouldn't be easy.
"Hey, still stressing? School's already over."
The dismissal bell had long finished ringing. Yet Phaga hadn't even touched his bag.
Ellen sighed softly. She leaned over to look at him.
"I can't think of anything!"
Phaga yanked himself out of his thoughts. But the anxiety still pressed heavily on his chest.
"To figure out whether that incident was a personal act, we have to infiltrate the Vanquishers." "But we've never had any contact with them!"
"And starting tomorrow, we only have two days—way too short!"
Seeing his distress, Ellen reached over and stroked his head gently. She smoothed his hair.
"Alright, take it slow. We'll figure something out." "Worst-case scenario, we work a little harder."
"If we get the chance, we'll just kidnap a lone Vanquisher." "Kidnap one, interrogate one—we'll get answers eventually."
Phaga's mouth twitched. Then he took a deep breath.
"Good idea."
If nothing else worked, they could always kidnap Lucius and Mors first. Those two absolutely deserved it anyway.
"Hey, Phaga, I think I heard someone say 'Vanquishers' just now. What are you two talking about?"
Suddenly, a voice chimed in. Hearing that familiar voice—
A sealed memory snapped open. Pages in Phaga's mind flipped rapidly.
They slammed onto the line he needed. Phaga shot his head up.
Right in front of him stood the future legendary racer—fresh off copying the thousand-word apology letter assigned by their teacher. His hands still smelled faintly of steering wheel rubber.
If anyone in school had ties to the Outer Ring… it was him!
Clatter—clatter!
Suddenly energized, Phaga shoved the desk aside. He seized the class president's hands.
He stared at him with burning passion.
"Class president, let's go race on the Outer Ring together!"
The class president: "Huh?"
...