"In any case, the deal has been done. I am sure you will still want to do your part of the deal, General."

Sommeil's lips curved into an easy grin. His voice was calm, almost lighthearted, carrying the tone of a man speaking about trivial matters. Yet to Herman, every syllable was a sharpened blade. Hidden beneath that friendly façade was a threat so blatant and heavy that it seemed to suffocate the very air in the room.

The atmosphere tightened. The silence that followed pressed against the walls like an invisible weight. Jack and Evelyn didn't need to exchange a glance—they both understood what was happening. This was no negotiation. Sommeil wasn't asking. He was forcing Herman into compliance with nothing more than carefully chosen words. And the terrifying part was that it worked.

"..."

Herman's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His shoulders sagged, his eyes dropped, and the defiance he tried to carry drained away like water slipping through cracked hands. Shame painted his expression, yet underneath it was a raw anger that simmered like a barely contained fire.

He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned pale. 'Dammit… Dammit all…'

For the sake of saving lives, he had betrayed his country, his honor, and perhaps even himself. Now, that choice had dragged him into a mess so vast and dangerous that he could not even begin to measure it. He was trapped, and Sommeil knew it.

"It seems we're on the same page," Sommeil said with a light chuckle. "I will take my leave now since I have other matters to attend to. Man, I want to go to sleep."

He stretched lazily, yawning, as if he hadn't just crushed a man's will underfoot. On his way out, he passed by Jack and Evelyn. His smile grew wider as he regarded the two young faces.

"I wish we could have a longer chat," he said almost warmly. "But I'll have to cut it short. Perhaps, I'll see you both again in the future."

He paused, his tone carrying an almost playful edge. "When that time comes, I expect to see you as splendid Chronists. And also…"

He leaned closer, his shadow brushing across Jack as he whispered.

"Maybe we'll be more than friends… Brothers of the same clan."

Then, without waiting for a response, Sommeil left. The door clicked shut behind him, and his presence vanished like a phantom slipping into the dark.

Jack's face remained expressionless, unbothered by the man's words. Deep inside, he already knew what Sommeil's intention was: recruitment. But Jack wasn't swayed. He had no desire to serve any clan. Freedom was his creed, and nothing—no promise, no threat, no offer of brotherhood—would shackle him to someone else's path.

"...Sigh…" Herman let out a long, heavy breath that seemed to carry all the tension he had been bottling up. He leaned back in his chair, looking drained. "I am tired."

The silence stretched until, finally, Herman rubbed at his forehead and muttered, "Are you two here to ask for something?"

"Yes," Evelyn replied evenly. "We're here to talk about the bunker. You need to keep the people calm and make sure they don't do anything reckless."

"Hm? I haven't been able to see what happened myself. Care to explain?"

Jack and Evelyn exchanged a glance before recounting the entire ordeal—the outbreak, the danger outside, the chaos barely kept in check. Herman's expression shifted as the story unfolded: from calm, to unsettled, to pale-faced horror. By the end, his hands trembled slightly against the armrest of his chair. He was already trying to recover from his conversation with Sommeil, and now was slapped with another problem far above his pay grade.

"This… this can't be real…" He shot to his feet, panic overtaking reason. "I need to go che—"

"Sit down."

Jack's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. He didn't raise his tone, but the sheer weight in it froze Herman in place. His body stiffened before he reluctantly lowered himself back into the chair.

"..."

"We have the situation under control," Jack continued, arms crossing as his steady gaze locked onto Herman. "What we need is for you to keep it that way. Don't act on your own. Don't try to follow your instincts. If you do, you'll only make things worse—for yourself and for everyone here."

The general opened his mouth, then closed it again. He could find no argument against that icy conviction. He wasn't a Chronist. He didn't understand the full scope of this crisis, nor did he have the power to face it. Acting on his own would only be a death sentence.

"Ok…" Herman muttered after a moment, shoulders slumping. "I think I can do that. But… how long? How long do I keep people at bay? How long will it take you to find a cure?"

Jack's gaze hardened. "I still don't know. But it won't be a few days." He leaned slightly forward. "It will take time. That doesn't matter. As long as they know we're searching for a cure, they won't complain. And even if they want to, they can't afford to."

Something in the boy's eyes struck Herman deeper than any threat Sommeil had given. Confidence. Experience. A weight of authority that felt unnatural on someone so young.

'He talks like a commander who's seen wars and uprisings, who knows exactly how the masses react in fear. Where did he learn all of this?'

The thought sent a chill down Herman's spine.

"Dammit…" he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Fine. Do what you have to do. I'll keep things from spiraling out of control."

"Good." Jack nodded. His gaze flicked to Evelyn, then back to Herman. His voice lowered slightly. "There's one more thing before we leave. Something I want you to do."

Herman's brows furrowed. He caught the subtle shift in the boy's tone and the strange glint in his eyes. "What is it?"

Evelyn and Lune tilted their heads, curious.

***

"I'm going to hunt monsters," Jack said once they left the office, his steps carrying him toward the exit of the bunker.

Evelyn followed, her tone firm. "Then I'll hunt too. I need to grow stronger."

She didn't admit it aloud, but her chest tightened as the memory flashed in her mind—Jack dangling at the edge of death, her powerless hands unable to save him. The image haunted her. She hated it.

'I'm too weak,' she thought bitterly. 'If this continues, I'll only drag him down. I won't even be able to save myself.'

Her ability was powerful, but power alone wasn't enough. Strength had to be honed, tempered in blood and battle. That meant only one thing: she needed to hunt, again and again, until she was unshakable.

Jack's thoughts mirrored hers, though they ran far deeper, sharper, and far more relentless. On the surface, he appeared calm. But beneath that, his mind was a raging storm.

All he could think about was strength. The need for it consumed him. Every fight he had survived replayed in his mind—his movements, his mistakes, the moments where death had nearly claimed him. Each failure burned itself into his memory so he would never repeat it again.

'I need balance,' he thought grimly. 'Raw strength and technique must grow together. If one surpasses the other, it creates weakness. Potential slips through your fingers. I can't afford that.'

His jaw tightened. With only eleven essence points left before ranking up, he was on the cusp of something greater. But this time, he wasn't satisfied with just one breakthrough.

'No. If I can… I'll rank up twice. I'll keep hunting until I reach it. I won't stop until I do.'

His resolve solidified.

The two made their way through the city streets. Darkness draped over them, yet the night sky above was far from bleak. It glimmered with unearthly brilliance, as if the heavens themselves had been torn open, revealing the raw cosmos behind the veil. It was a sight that felt too immense, too forbidden for mortal eyes, yet here it was—laid bare before them.

Gradually, the city thinned. Buildings grew sparse until only empty roads stretched ahead. And beyond that, the barren lands awaited.

In the distance, shadows shifted. The silhouettes of monsters lingered like dark stains against the horizon.

Jack's eyes narrowed. Evelyn's fingers curled.

It was time.

Time to hunt.

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