James, Junwell, and Caeson rushed to the second floor through the narrow wooden stairs. Three men with rifles were already waiting, and as soon as the gate behind them slammed shut, the rifles were raised straight at their heads. In a split second, Caeson pulled out his Beretta and fired three precise shots, each bullet striking the rifles instead of the men. The weapons clattered to the floor as the shooters stumbled back, their hands trembling from the impact. James lunged forward without hesitation, his boxing punches landing clean and heavy, knocking two of them unconscious. Junwell stepped in with his stick, swinging it with the precision of kendo training, striking the third man and dropping him instantly.
They kicked open the next door. Inside, Derent sat calmly on a chair, six riflemen standing in a straight line behind him. The air felt heavier.
Derent smirked. "I knew you were capable of reaching here. After all, the union of your three families is not ordinary. But your adventure ends here."
Caeson kept his gun steady. "Most of your men are already down. Now it's your turn. We're not here for you. Hand over the governors of Luonsa and Belen, and we might spare you."
Derent laughed softly. "Forget about taking us down. And one more thing—the governors are in the basement."
The revelation shocked James and Junwell, but Caeson's grip on his Beretta tightened. There was no option to retreat now.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from behind. Goffey entered, rifle in hand.
Derent frowned. "Why are you here? I thought you lost them."
Goffey replied coldly, "I was caught off guard. Not anymore."
Junwell quickly calculated the situation. In such short range, even if they disabled the rifles, Derent was a skilled hand-to-hand fighter, and Goffey could snipe even in tight spaces. This was bad.
Caeson muttered under his breath, "We need backup."
Goffey overheard and smiled. "No backup is coming. I left two snipers on the rooftop."
Meanwhile, Alfred sat alone in Dr. Howard's lab, leaning back on a chair, staring at a small screen. He had tracked their movements through the device he had secretly planted in their shoes. He remembered how he climbed the apartment pipe, took down one sniper by surprise, and barely escaped after hitting Goffey—possibly by luck. He sensed they might need him again, yet he hesitated, convincing himself they could handle it.
Elsewhere, at Kaspus Bar, Truman—dressed in a different party outfit—stood with Jackson, carefully observing the crowd. Ricardo Williams had just arrived with Saggy and Simpson. Truman and Jackson exchanged subtle glances; they already suspected that Ricardo was the key figure involved in the plan with the vice-chancellor.
Far to the west of Norus, Perun traveled by taxi for nearly three hours to reach Cavorite City. He came not as Raven, but in his normal appearance, seeking the truth behind the existence of Arcane. At the entrance of the city stood a weathered board that read:
"The Cavorite – A Place with No Gravity."
The atmosphere felt unnatural, as if the city itself defied ordinary laws. Perun stood still, wondering what Vaelor was currently doing.
Back at the Senate's Second Division headquarters, Vaelor had already reached the basement. He found the two governors—Kettle and Alex—and forcefully freed them. They resisted at first, warning him of danger upstairs, but Robert insisted, "The building has already been attacked. People are trying to kill both of you. We must move now."
Vaelor paused for a moment, sensing something unsettling. "I think… something else is still happening on the other floor."
On the middle floor of the Second Division of the Senate, Caeson, Junwell, and James stood completely surrounded. Six riflemen formed a semicircle around them, their weapons raised without hesitation. At the doorway stood Goffey, his sniper rifle perfectly aligned with their heads despite the short range. Derent remained seated in the center of the room, calm and confident.
Slowly, Derent stood up. He removed his coat and placed it neatly over the chair. "So," he said with a faint smile, "who wants to be the first?"
James clenched his fists. "I can take him," he muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on Derent. "But with that sniper and all these rifles… dodging everything won't be easy."
Junwell, however, wasn't focused on fear. His eyes scanned the entire room like an architect studying blueprints—the angles of the walls, the spacing between the riflemen, the doorway where Goffey stood, and most importantly, the washroom just beside them. He calculated silently.
A gunshot suddenly echoed through the room.
For a split second, everyone assumed it was Goffey pulling the trigger. But it was Caeson. He had fired directly at Derent. The bullet would have hit cleanly—if not for the steel shield Derent instantly raised from beside his chair. The impact rang sharply against the metal.
Derent grinned. "Good reflex," he said, lowering the shield slightly.
But someone else smiled too.
Junwell.
Goffey adjusted his aim immediately, reacting to the shot. The six riflemen began firing as well, bullets tearing through the air. In that split second of chaos, James dashed forward toward Derent, forcing him into close combat. At the same time, Junwell grabbed Caeson and pulled him into the washroom, slamming the door shut behind them.
Inside, Caeson snapped, "Why did you pull me in here?"
Junwell exhaled. "Derent is prideful. He won't allow random gunfire while he's fighting. He wants to win with dominance. That shield confirmed it. We have the perfect setup."
Outside, Derent barked an order mid-fight, blocking James's punch and countering with a heavy strike. "Don't fire! Catch them from the washroom!"
Goffey immediately commanded two of the riflemen to break the washroom door while the others maintained position.
But then—
Footsteps thundered from the staircase.
Before anyone could react, Vaelor stormed into the room like a violent gust tearing through calm air. The riflemen turned in shock. Goffey tried to reposition his sniper, but the range was too short; Vaelor was already upon them.
He crashed into the first rifleman, using the man's own body as a shield against the others. In a brutal sequence, he hurled one into another, knocking three down in seconds. He gave Goffey no breathing space, closing distance so aggressively that the sniper became a burden instead of an advantage.
Inside the washroom, Caeson sighed, almost annoyed. "Again… this guy."
Junwell smirked slightly. "It's help. Unexpected help."
They kicked the door open just as two riflemen were about to breach it. Caeson struck one with the butt of his Beretta while Junwell's stick cracked sharply against the other's wrist, disarming him instantly.
In the center of the room, James and Derent were still locked in combat—heavy blows, blocked strikes, calculated counters. Derent glanced around as his men were falling one by one under Vaelor's assault and the re-entry of Junwell and Caeson.
For the first time, a realization crossed his mind.
Even if I defeat James… we've already lost this battle.