Luke pressed Ethan's phone, squinting. This woman… what the hell is her deal? Seriously.
Not only was she the first woman Master brought back to the estate, but she was also the first one Master personally sent out. Who does that anyway?
Anyway. Orders are orders. Luke fumbled with a remote, pressed a few buttons. Click click.
Boom. Guards everywhere. AI drones. Lights blinking—like someone flipped a switch in a video game and everything went "hey, obey now."
Anya walked out. Clear path. Like the estate was her obedient dog or maybe a polite butler. The gate just… opened. No fuss.
She shrugged. Technology these days, apocalypse or not, could do way more. But still… curiosity about this guy began to stir. Dangerous? Famous? Mythical beast? Who knows.
Luke entered. Full butler uniform. Starched shirt, tie.
"Master, she's gone," he said flatly.
Ethan hummed. Eyes glued to the floor-to-ceiling window. Calm. Or maybe thinking about pizza.
"Outside… surveillance shows the girl hailed a cab. Southbound," Luke added, flipping a notebook like he was auditioning for a spy movie.
"Did I tell you to note the plate?" Ethan snapped. "Where she goes…? What she drives…? Why would I care?"
Luke zipped his mouth shut. Yikes. Master's mood… precarious.
After a pause: "So, what's the plate?" Ethan asked.
Luke mumbled, "Jing A54SB… I think…" Something felt off. Spacing… who knows.
"Locate the taxi company. Track the car." Sharp. Cold.
"Yes, Master," Luke muttered, running off.
Ethan stared at the bed. Torn bandages. Shredded clothes. Messy. That woman… Ye family, right? Maybe.
Phone rang. Chase on the line.
"Ethan, the guys are waiting at Tongquelou. Exclusive booking—just need you."
"Going streaking?" Ethan asked.
Reply: "Uh… does underwear count?"
Ethan smirked. Cold. "Not going."
"Hey! Wait! Ethan, you wanna see what happened to the girl you brought home? Got surveillance from that mountain road…"
"Send it," he said. Eyes narrowed. Dark mode.
"Unfair! You started this bet…" Chase's words fired like machine gun bursts.
Ethan rubbed his brow. Fine. Later.
"Okay."
"Miss, we're here." Taxi. Red Court Estate. Gate looming. Towering. Jaw-like.
"I can't go in. Sorry." Driver. Typical.
Inside, exclusive. No ordinary cars. Only residents. Strict rules.
"Thanks," Anya nodded. Took two bills—dollars—dropped them on the seat. Out she stepped.
"Hey, Miss, that's too much!" Older driver.
She winced, steadied herself. Glanced at him. "Use it for the kid's milk." She walked. Smooth. Like wind brushing paper trees.
Driver froze. Baby photo on seat. Strange warmth.
Money? Not hers. Picked Ethan's stack from night before. Survival. Quick cash.
Gate of Red Court Estate. Towering. Like a jaw.
Memory: residents—retired big shots, mega-rich families. Maybe aliens. Who knows.
Ye family lived there. Naturally.
In Kyoto, places like this exist. Multiple. Forget it.
Anya's shirt oversized, short skirt hidden. Legs pale. Fragile. Paper. Wind could toss her. Step by step. Defiant.
Inhaled. Eyes sharp. Minute passed. Calm returned.
Moved. No pain. Wounds invisible. Looks human. Kind of.
Control ability. Heal. Temporary. Surface only. Stronger? Need rest. Time.
Step by step, toward estate.
"Miss Anya," guard greeted. Smile. Quick. Efficient.
Anya nodded. Entered. Steady steps. Guard frowned. Energy? Weird. Different.
Ye family.
Living room tense. Table like battlefield.
"Days gone, no news. What the hell?" Brandon slammed table. Hard. Everyone silent.
Luna uneasy. Strange. Anya dead? Should be news. None. Nada.
"Dad, saw sister with male classmates. Having fun. Forgot call home." Luna soft. Calm.
Brandon red. Anger. Explosive.
"Young age. Out late. Male classmates. Unlawful?!"
Marina scooped soup. Smile. Charm. "Young people, forget home sometimes. But… overnight? Reputation… risk. Just saying."
Fuel fire.
Brandon pushed hand. Darker. Storming.