The door opened silently. It was like the whisper of a gentle wind on a quiet night. Doors as old as it was usually groaned and creaked from the weight of their age. This one did not. Tsuyoshi stepped inside. His legs moved slowly, sluggishly, they shuffled along the ground as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

He smacked his lips as the old often do, wetting them where they had once been dry. He was draped in a long. Embroidered robe that brushed against the polished floor. It was red, woven from the finest materials. On the left side of it was the design of an animal. The tailor—as per his request—had sewn in a massive sized chihuahua in the brightest pink.

Tsuyoshi's presence did not disturb the silence and stillness of the room. In fact, it seemed to join it. It took nothing from it and added nothing to it. He was as the room was.

The bedroom was vast, almost decadent. Tall ceilings disappeared high into the darkness, and heavy furniture stood like monuments in the dim—the few that occupied the room. Only the moonlight from outside offered definition to the room, slipping in through a towering glass window. It spilled silver across the polished ground.

Most people had expected Tsuyoshi's room to be more Japanese styled than usual—it was in the heart of Japan, after all—but it was not. They also expected it to be extravagant, but the only sign of riches the room possessed was in its vastness and the quality of it. There was no extravagant design. No picture of grand size that hovered in one corner or hanged against one wall.

It was vast, almost empty, save a large bed and a few chairs and couches, and simple.

Tsuyoshi didn't reach for a light. He didn't need to.

In the far corner of the room, where the moonlight died into the shadow, a figure sat on a chair—silent, still, patent. Watching.

Tsuyoshi could feel the confidence emanating from the man like a physical thing. So much confidence that it had tipped the scale over to the side of arrogance. He had only met a handful of people with such level of confidence that was also justified. They wore it naturally, like predators in the wild.

Stopping at the center of the room, Tsuyoshi ignored the light of the moon as it painted him in its almost silver sheen. He stood there. He did not blink. His face held no surprise, no fear—only recognition.

He looked back at the closed door. It led into his bathroom. Turning from it, he looked at the door that led out of his room and into the rest of the house. It was closed, seemingly untouched. He knew better.

He returned his attention to his guest in the shadows and said, "Took you long enough."

"You were expecting me?" a voice answered back. It was young, youthful.

This, too, did not surprise Tsuyoshi. Arrogance was often the domain of the young.

"Expecting is not necessarily the word I would use."

"I must say," the voice continued. "Your English is impeccable for a Japanese. I cannot even tell the accent."

Tsuyoshi nodded, but did not follow the line of conversation. Instead, he turned it to more important things.

"How many died?" he asked, eyes staring into the darkness the voice came from but not really searching.

"A handful." There was a touch of nonchalance in the voice. "It was necessary."

Tsuyoshi nodded. "A lot of things are necessary in this life. It is always the way."

The sound of movement came from the darkness. A moment after, a young man stepped out from it and into the light of the moon. He was not as young as his voice suggested, maybe in his early thirties, maybe a little older.

Tsuyoshi would not be surprised is he was actually much older.

He had long black hair that he'd tied back into something that was not quite a ponytail. He had a slight bruise on his left lip that Tsuyoshi was sure annoyed him. He was tall, but not unreasonably so, over six feet at least.

He looked down at Tsuyoshi with blue eyes that shined brighter in the presence of the moonlight.

"You are not afraid," he said.

Tsuyoshi cocked a brow at that. "Would you like me to be afraid?"

"Interesting." The man's brows drew together as if in thought. "Do you know who I am?"

Tsuyoshi looked back, intentionally taking his attention away from the man. Once again, he confirmed that his doors were locked before looking back at the man.

"Is that necessary?" he asked with a sigh. "Do I have to know you?"

The guest seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope, not really. However, you do have to help me."

"America," Tsuyoshi said simply. "He's in the United States."

"That's the best you can do?"

Tsuyoshi nodded. "I have tried all that I can. All I could confirm was that he is in the United States."

"Just like that?" the man laughed. "You know what I want, maybe what I wish to do, and you just handed him over. Just like that?"

Tsuyoshi shrugged. "When you are as old as I am, you learn not to fight fate."

The man turned around, chuckling to himself. He seemed to tap the air with a finger a few times. After a moment, he stopped chuckling and tapping, then pointed at Tsuyoshi in amusement. He laughed a little, like a man impressed or mad… maybe both.

"You say it as if the old are the wisest in the eyes of fate," he said after a moment. "Have you always known where he was or did you look into it just now or recently?"

Tsuyoshi shook his head. Old and S-ranked as he was, he knew enemies that he could fight and win. He knew enemies that would kill him.

"I looked into it while I was in the bathroom," he answered, tired and more than eager to go back to bed.

"And you didn't think to bargain with that information?"

Tsuyoshi shook his head. "You have nothing that I want to bargain with."

"Not even your life?" the man smiled, showing too much teeth, like some feral animal.

He was drunk on his own power.

"You do not hold my life in your hands," Tsuyoshi told him.

The man moved. In the blink of an eye, his hand covered Tsuyoshi's face. But that was all it did, nothing else.

"Are you confident?" the man asked.

Tsuyoshi nodded once more. "I am, because you will need me again in a while. When you come to me for that help, I will give it to you."

"Is that your bargain?"

Tsuyoshi looked at the man's confident face from the space between his fingers. "It is not a bargain. I have told you already, there is no bargaining to be had. But when you need me, I will help you when the time comes."

The man cocked his head to the side in thought. "Why? I'm sure you know that I am a monster."

Tsuyoshi could not help but smile. "You have been called a monster. Mainly by those who have feared you, seen you at your worst. I have seen monsters. You are no monster. Merely a powerful man. But a man, nonetheless."

"And yet you will help me when I need it?"

"When you are as old as I am, you learn to let fate take its course." The smile fell from Tsuyoshi's face. "I would help a devil if fate required it."

The man laughed, removing his hand from his face.

"You [Seers]," he said. "Always so cryptic and old. I will take your word for it. After all, a [Seer] who looked into his own future and married enough women to give him the highest ratio of Gifted children definitely knows more about fate than anyone."

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Tsuyoshi said nothing to that. He knew of his fame. He knew of his reputation. He was not popular for what he had done in portals. He was popular for how many Gifted children he had succeeded in having.

The strongest [Seer] of his time, and all people liked to remember him for was the number of Gifted children he had.

Sad.

"But understand this," the man continued. "In giving me the location I asked for, you might as well have doomed the world. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Tsuyoshi smiled once more. The next words out of his mouth were words he had heard from a powerful man in a future he had seen once upon a time. The man was nothing but a weak boy right now, but he was an empire unto himself in the vision.

Tsuyoshi passed on the same words to the man standing right in front of him.

"What is an Oath to an [August Intruder]?"

His guest let out a feral grin. "So you do know what I want and who I am."

"I do."

"Then tell me, old man." The man leaned in. "Who am I?"

Tsuyoshi met his gaze, undaunted. "You are the Oath of Greed."

Greed nodded happily. "That I am. And tonight, I will let you live. If I don't find this [August Intruder], I will come back for more details, so please look for him."

Then he turned and walked towards the tall glass window. There, he threw it open, letting in the night's breeze. But he did not leave. Instead, he looked back at Tsuyoshi.

"What's an Oath to an [August Intruder]?" he said. "Well, let me pose a different question to you. What's a god to an unbeliever?"

He climbed the window and dropped into the night.

Tsuyoshi smiled sadly as his guest disappeared, leaving him alone in his room.

"A god," he answered into the silence of the room. "Believer or not, a god is still a god."

Then he turned around and shuffled his way out of the room. It was time for him to look into the lives of all eight men that had died tonight. Their families would need to be taken care of.

Long ago, he had seen this future and he had taken the path to ensured the least number of deaths. But it was still sad to lose employees. It was sadder to lose his S-rank bodyguard.

Oaths, he thought as he walked out of the room. Always so arrogant.

He really hoped that Greed would meet with the [August Intruder]. He had no idea how it would end, but if the [August Intruder] had eventually grown to become the man in his vision, then he could be certain that the boy would survive.

But at what cost?

…

Silver eyes were an interesting trait. They were a simple grey that expanded into something with a silver sheen. At least that was the best way Melmarc could describe them from what he thought they would be.

"Silver eyes?" he asked, having no idea of what Naymond was asking.

He also didn't know anybody with silver eyes. Not even Delvers or famous Gifted anywhere. If there was, he was fairly certain that Delano would've said a thing or two about such a thing.

The thought made Melmarc pause. Not for the first time, he realized that he still hadn't spoken to Delano or Eroms since getting his phone back. None of them had called him, too. Or even visited him.

Gosh, I'm a terrible friend.

For all he knew, something could be wrong and he would just be here living his life. Then again, it wasn't as if he was just playing around. Things were happening in his life. Important things. He was practically the defender of the world, if he was to take Uncle Dorthna's words as gospel.

Naymond had a frown on his face. "You've never heard of him?"

"Never met anyone with silver eyes," Melmarc confirmed. "Why?"

Naymond's frown morphed into a thoughtful scowl. He looked very intent on whatever he was thinking about. His eyes darted about, looking from one nothing to another. It was the face of a thinking man. It was also the face of a worried man.

"Mr. Hitchcock?"

It was Dantani who had spoken. He looked worried. It was the kind of worry you would see on the face of a friend.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look… not confident."

"That's because I am," Naymond answered. His voice was low and his words came slowly, as if he was barely paying attention to his own response.

Now Melmarc was really interested in the man with silver eyes. Who could he be? What could Naymond know of him? Why did Naymond ask him if he knew of him?

Oh.

A realization hit Melmarc like a truck, even though it wasn't really anything new. The realization was a simple thing. All Naymond had done was ask him if he knew of a man with silver eyes and then become thoughtful for him to want to know who the man was.

If he got a quest that he thought would help him get the answer right now, he would take up the request. Uncle Dorthna was right—they didn't have to worry about Ark picking up a quest about the [First Man], they had to worry about Melmarc picking up the quest.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to answer a quest to get the information he needed.

"Why did you ask, Mr. Hitchcock?" Melmarc asked again. "Why did you think that I would've met this person?"

Naymond looked at him, contemplating. It was clear that he wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer the question.

In the end, he sighed. "I couldn't sense you," he said finally.

"I don't understand."

"You." Naymond gestured at Melmarc. "Even right now, as you're standing in front of me. I can see you, touch you. I'm sure if I lean in I can smell you."

Melmarc was never a fan of scents. Everyone said that it was good to smell nice, but Melmarc preferred to not have a smell at all. But that was not what was important right now.

"So what's the problem?" he asked.

"[World of Insight]," Naymond answered. "Do you remember it?"

Melmarc nodded. "It helps you sense things in a vicinity."

He had used it enough times to remember the skill. It was an interesting. The way it worked, from what he remembered, was simple. The skill somehow allowed you know about the things that you couldn't see.

With it, he could know if the person standing outside the door was drinking a can of soda or something.

"Good," Naymond said, continuing the conversation. "The skill can't sense you. You're standing in front of me, but as far as the skill is concerned, Detective Dantani and I are the only ones here."

Melmarc found that very surprising. It was also a good sign. Naymond's skill [World of Insight] was a detection skill, and he'd just been told that it could not detect him. Melmarc wondered if he was now immune to detection skills as well.

"And this man with the silver eyes was like that?" he asked, putting the pieces together.

Naymond nodded, his eyes staring off in half-remembrance. It made Melmarc wonder what Naymond's relationship with the mystery man was.

"So there's actually a person Naymond fears," Dantani mused. "I don't think I ever want to run into that guy."

Naymond chuckled. "Joke's on you, Dan. Marc's also the son of a person I fear. And his mother is currently in the building judging Alfa's case." He paused, gave Melmarc a sheepish grin. "Any chance you can convince your mother to be a little more lenient on Alfa when you see her. Alfa was just dealt a bad card, that's all. It's not really her fault."

"A bad card?" Melmarc asked, puzzled.

Naymond nodded, then pointed at himself. "Me. It's really not easy dealing with me when you don't have complete power over me."

"That means that there's more about this silver eyed man that I can learn," Melmarc mused. "But I can't get it out of you because I don't really have complete power over you."

Dantani turned a flabbergasted look on Melmarc. "That's a very dark thought for a kid your age."

Melmarc shrugged. Sometimes, you had to think outside the box. Sometimes there was nothing but darkness outside the box.

Naymond, however, didn't seem so bothered. He snapped his hand at Melmarc and said, "Exactly."

"So, how are we getting you out?" Melmarc asked. "My mother said that you were leaving with us."

"Detective Dantani has the key," Naymond said. "You could beat him up and get the key."

Dantani gave Naymond a look.

"What?" Naymond protested. "It's an idea. Just an idea. The kid's not going to try to…"

Melmarc was looking at Dantani now, really looking at him.

Can I take him?

The thought bubbled in his mind in curiosity. The detective had the enchanted swords, and enchanted items came with a problem when you faced someone who wielded them. They were unpredictable unless you knew what they were capable of.

Melmarc had no idea what Dantani's swords were capable of.

"He has the [Swordsman] class," Naymond said.

Dantani scowled at him.

"What?" Naymond gave an innocent look. "I'm just helping the kid out in case."

Dantani's hands inched closer to his waist. "I hate you."

"I know."

A [Swordsman]. The class was an interesting class. Ultimately, it was only powerful when the Gifted had a sword. Its skills were all skewed towards making the Gifted stronger when they had a sword in their hand.

"You don't want to do this, kid," Dantani said, keeping his eyes on Melmarc.

As true as it was, Melmarc was actually interested in finding out how strong he was now. What exactly was he capable of? He had mana stats that were an unhealthy level of high for a simple B-rank [Faker] at fifty points. There was also the matter of his new skills.

"Why would I want to fight a detective?" Melmarc said in the end. "That's just stupid."

Naymond sighed. "In all fairness, it would've been fun to watch."

"You could've gotten him killed!" Dantani hissed.

"Oh, please," Naymond scoffed. "The kid wouldn't have been able to land a blow on you and you know it. And you wouldn't have hurt him too much if you hurt him at all. It would've been a learning experience for the kid."

Melmarc almost ran an exasperated hand down his face. With Naymond, there was always something.

"If you want to get him out of here, you'll need someone with permission or the key to do it," Dantani told Melmarc. "The only reason you're even still here is because only those permitted to be here know this place and have a key card."

Melmarc understood. All it meant now was that he had to go and get his mother.

He looked from Naymond to Dantani. "He'll be here when I get back, right?"

"He's a prisoner," Dantani said kindly. "He's not on death row. You'll find him here when you get back with someone with the authority to release him."

Melmarc nodded once, then turned and made his way to the door. He was almost there when the door let out a soft click and opened.

He stopped in his tracks. "Mom?"

"Hi, dear," his mother said with a smile. "How's Mr. Hitchcock?"

"They said they won't let him out unless someone with authority comes for him."

He was barely done with his words when Alfa walked into he room from behind his mother. She looked tired and a little annoyed. At least she looked as if she was trying to hide her annoyance. Melmarc wondered if she knew that she wasn't doing a very good job at hiding it.

"Detective Alfa will let him go," his mother said simply.

Melmarc wondered why she wasn't asking Alfa to let him go. Surprisingly, Alfa walked into the space and met Dantani.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

Dantani shrugged. "Just trying to crack the case of the dead gangsters. I figured if none of your teammates are willing to help, maybe your rogue [Sage] will."

Melmarc paused, turning to look at Alfa and Dantani.

Alfa sighed. She scratched the back of her head in annoyance. "Naymond, this is Detective Dantani. He's been assigned to our precinct due to the string of unfortunate events that have been occurring. But I'm sure you know that since he's been here for a while."

"I'm aware," Naymond said, smiling.

It made Melmarc's brows furrow.

Alfa frowned at the [Sage]'s smile. "Just tell him whatever he needs to know before you go. It's the least you can do."

Naymond folded his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"Because it's David's gang that's getting done in," Alfa snapped. "Please stop making me explain things and just tell the man what he wants to know. And don't be an annoying ass about it. Not everyone can put up with you."

She doesn't know that they know each other, Melmarc realized.

His mother stepped past him as the realization came to him. Looking down at her, Melmarc froze. He'd never seen his mother so angry before. Her face was tight, her eyes almost looked bloodshot. She looked something vengeful.

"Naymond Hitchcock," she said, her voice hard, as she approached the cell.

Alfa froze as Naymond stood at attention.

"Yes, ma'am," he said immediately.

"Where," Melmarc's mother bit out, "is David Swan?"

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