"It's like turning off the lights in a room… without ever leaving it."
Kayden imagined his Spirit Core flowing throughout his body like an invisible network of energy.
Then he slowly began dividing its power, as though rearranging the wiring inside a complicated machine. He closed the "valve"…
Like shutting off the flow of water. The instant he did, a violent pain tore through him not just physical, but spiritual, as if something deep inside was screaming. Still, he endured. He refused to let go. Eventually, everything fell silent. His Spirit Core was trapped within him, struggling to break free.
But Kayden held it down with unwavering resolve. "It's like having a bad-tempered mistress…"
He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside as though nothing had happened.
Once again, he sat before Bill.
Bill said nothing. But he was watching him. "Sir… what exactly is your relationship with Carlos?"
Kayden looked up at him and answered simply, "He's my first follower."
But the moment the words left his mouth, something felt off. 'Follower?' The word didn't fit. What he had with Adam wasn't a master-and-subordinate relationship. It was more like a fragile alliance built on necessity, caution… and something strangely difficult to define.
Kayden studied Bill's face for a moment.
"You don't seem like you belong here, Bill. You don't belong in a place like this… but you're good at pretending."
Bill paused. "How can you tell?"
Kayden smiled faintly. There was no real mockery in his voice. "It's obvious. Your grooming. You can't stand being dirty."
His eyes flicked over him. "Your nails are clean and carefully trimmed. Your skin is well taken care of… do you even have a skincare routine? There aren't any signs of manual labor on your knuckles either. And my cologne isn't cheap, yet you recognized it immediately. You're used to scents like that but definitely not around here. Don't tell me expensive perfume is common in this bar, or that customers walk in wearing fragrances of that caliber."
He paused briefly before adding with a slight smile, one eyebrow raised, "And your hair is styled far more carefully than a bartender in a rundown tavern would bother with."
Bill placed the glass in front of him and replied calmly, "Maybe I just like being clean."
Kayden didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at the glass, then at Bill's hand, pointing toward it as he spoke. "Polished, well-maintained nails even if they're short show a level of care that has nothing to do with poverty. Look around. Everyone here works with their hands. They don't have time to maintain their nails like that."
"And then there's that fake smile you gave when talking about your 'financial struggles.' What hardship are you talking about? I caught the brief contradiction between your expression and your words. That forced laugh when you mentioned the bar barely makes any money."
"My eyes don't lie."
"When did you hear that conversation?" Bill asked quietly.
"When I came out of the restroom."
Kayden gestured toward Bill's face.
"Your eyebrows are carefully shaped. They reflect awareness and discipline, not the indifference of a poor man simply trying to get by. Even the way you hold glasses with two fingers extended isn't something you learn on the streets. That's the kind of habit picked up around tables covered with white cloth."
He glanced at his hands. "Your vocabulary is precise. You're well educated."
Kayden smiled faintly. "And then there are your eyes."
"The way your pupils dilate whenever they see something valuable. Even if you pretend not to care, pupils expand instinctively when they see something they admire expensive watches, jewelry… You looked at my watch several times. I don't blame you."
He leaned back slightly. "But what exposed you more than anything… was recognizing Adam's lighter. That alone was enough."
Bill rested his back against the wall and let out a slow breath, as though the air in his lungs had suddenly become heavier.
Kayden continued anyway. "Want me to keep going?"
Bill stared at him for a long moment. 'The way he thinks is terrifying… If that lunatic follows him, then this man must be even crazier…'
Finally, Bill spoke in a quiet voice, one carrying reluctant acceptance.
"I can't deny it anymore… It seems you're my client now."
He hesitated.
"Would you… introduce yourself? And if you'd rather not… that's fine."
Kayden remained silent for a moment. "Bryce."
It wasn't his real name. Nor was he willing to throw his true identity around so casually. So he deliberately offered only his family name, knowing it would make Bill lower his guard more quickly.
Kayden wasn't the kind of person who revealed himself easily, especially to someone he didn't fully trust.
He wasn't powerful enough yet to openly carry his name the way the other warriors in his family did.
But he had learned something just as dangerous
how to plant fear in people's hearts without ever drawing a weapon.
"Bryce…?" Bill repeated the name almost unconsciously.
His eyes slowly widened. As though the name had awakened an old memory. "I think I've seen you before…" Bill murmured hesitantly while studying Kayden's face.
"But it wasn't you…You all look alike. You're… George's younger brother?"
Kayden didn't answer immediately.
He simply looked at him in silence.
"You really do resemble him."
Kayden gave a small nod, neither confirming nor denying it.
"That explains a lot," Bill said evenly, though there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath his voice—the kind people carried whenever family was involved.
He smiled slowly.
"Both of you… are absolutely terrifying."
The subject changed almost immediately, as if Bill wanted to move away from George's shadow before the conversation went any further.
"As for the poster… Vlad."
His eyes shifted toward the folded paper still in Kayden's hand.
"That guy's a predator. That's why nobody likes him around here. Everyone wants him gone. He's probably hiding somewhere in those alleys, waiting for a little girl… or a little boy… to walk by."
Kayden's fist tightened without him noticing. "Everyone hates predators."
Before leaving, he suddenly looked back at Bill. "Why do you work here?"
Bill walked beside him toward the tavern's entrance. "To be honest… I'm just killing time ,I'll be going back to my real job soon ,But places like this remind me that I'm still human… at least a little." He smiled faintly. "And I'm thinking of buying a few perfumes too."
He pointed toward a quiet street branching into several narrow, shadowed alleys.
"Look over there.He's probably hiding in one of those corners , Mothers have become more careful these days… but even so…"
He glanced toward several children working nearby. "See those kids?"
"Isn't that… awful?"
"It is," Kayden replied. "The Council should rebuild this district. It desperately needs investment , There are countless unused spaces that could be developed. Otherwise… it'll remain nothing more than a breeding ground for crime and decay." Bill smiled and turned toward him.
"Mr. Bryce… you've got quite an eye for investment too , Did you study that somewhere?"
Kayden stopped for the briefest moment.
His eyes widened. 'Kayden never studied this… Damn it…'
he muttered inwardly before regaining his composure.
"I've read a little."
"That's all."
Bill bid him farewell with a faint smile. Then Kayden quickly walked away.
Bill watched him for a few seconds before muttering, "He's hiding his spiritual core to a terrifying degree… Is he a professional? Wait… just how many siblings does George actually have? Why were his parents so excited when No, that's not the point! I asked George once how many brothers and sisters he had, and he never answered me… that damn liar."
He slapped the door with his palm before walking back into the tavern, muttering to himself, "I'll have to check the missing people records later…"
Meanwhile, Kayden had ventured deeper into the district's maze of alleys, his sharp eyes searching for his target.
Finding him, however, wasn't easy.
The first alley was filled with piles of garbage and an unbearable stench.
The second was occupied by stray cats fighting over an empty barrel.
The third held nothing but shadows.
Just as his concentration began to slip, the sharp sound of a bottle shattering against stone echoed through the silence.
It hadn't come from the alley where he stood. It came from somewhere else.
Kayden planted his feet firmly and stopped moving.
With a focused gaze, he directed his spiritual core to his ears, straining to pinpoint the source of the noise. It felt like searching for a single ripple in an endless ocean… until he caught it.
Faint vibrations.
Uneven breathing.
Subtle movement.
' Someone's nearby… but they don't want to be found?'
Kayden raised both hands beside his ears and listened carefully.
The sound was coming from the last alley.
He didn't rush in. Instead, he approached quietly.
Then he heard it. A child. Begging. Crying.
Each sob broke apart as though terror itself were choking him.
Then another voice followed Cold.
Almost amused. "Oh? This kind uncle only wants to help you. Don't cry… It'll only make me even more excited."
Kayden blinked. His stomach tightened.
' Using a child as a sacrifice would've been better than… this. Disgusting.'
Then the child suddenly screamed despite his fear. "You son of a bitch!!"
At that instant, Kayden moved.
All hesitation vanished. His kick slammed into Vlad with explosive force, sending him flying into the wall of the narrow alley.
Vlad barely had time to register what had happened.
Kayden was already on him.
One punch. Then another.
Each strike landed harder than the last.
Despite his panic, Vlad shoved Kayden back and staggered to his feet.
The child stared at Vlad's bloodied, bruised face.
For the first time, the alley no longer felt frightening.
It felt like hope had finally arrived.
Vlad wiped the blood from his mouth and shouted,
"Who sent you, you bastard?!" He pointed at the child.
"You little brat! Stay right there! Once I'm done with him… you're next!"
Kayden tilted his head slightly, looking at him with open contempt. "What do you mean… done with him?"
Vlad laughed like a madman. "I can assault adults too…I don't discriminate , Besides… you're handsome, That's enough for—"
He never finished. Kayden moved without warning. His open palm crashed straight into Vlad's nose. A scream burst from Vlad's throat. He had never expected the strike.
He stumbled backward, barely keeping his balance as pain exploded across his face.
His nose was broken.
Kayden didn't stop. Vlad glared at him with instinctive hatred, as though staring at the embodiment of his own resentment.
Without another word, he pulled a long knife from his belt.
Its blade caught the dim light of the streetlamp, flashing with sinister intent.
Then he charged. In a single instant, Vlad released part of his spiritual power into the surroundings, intending to overwhelm his opponent the same way he always dominated the weak.
Kayden didn't even flinch. He had faced people far stronger.
Before the blade could reach him, Kayden shifted sideways with effortless precision.
One hand seized Vlad's wrist.
His thumb pressed against a precise weak point behind the bone.
A short cry escaped Vlad's lips.
The knife slipped from his fingers as though it had never belonged there.
"You bastard!" Vlad roared, his face twisting in agony.
Kayden simply smiled. His right foot moved. One clean kick struck Vlad's knee.
His balance disappeared instantly.
He collapsed to the ground with a painful groan. But Vlad wasn't the type to stay down.
As he fell, something feral filled his eyes.
With his free hand, he drew another blade.
A much smaller one.
Not an ordinary knife. Spiritual energy flowed across its edge like a curse being awakened.
Then, with startling speed…
He drove it straight into Kayden's foot.
A sharp sting shot through him.
Not from the steel alone but from the tainted spiritual energy seeping into his flesh.
Kayden lowered his gaze toward the knife buried in his foot.
There wasn't even a trace of pain on his face.
Instead… He looked genuinely disgusted.
As though something filthy had contaminated him.
He muttered quietly, "Someone like you touched my foot…I feel like peeling off my entire skin."
He raised his eyes toward Vlad.
His voice remained flat. "How ridiculous."
"You've come this far… and actually think you can hurt me. You should die."
Vlad didn't wait. He sprang forward with astonishing speed and threw a sharp punch toward the left side of Kayden's face.
A burning sting spread across his eye as a bead of salty sweat slid into it.
His eyelids narrowed for an instant.
That punch would probably leave a bruise.
Even so… His reaction was faster.
In less than a second, Kayden had already closed the distance again and struck Vlad once more.
"H-How many fighting styles do you know…?"
Vlad asked shakily as he struggled to remain standing, blood spilling from his mouth.
A moment later… He collapsed.
Blood poured from his lips as he coughed violently across the ground.
Kayden walked toward him with slow, measured steps.
As though nothing in the world could stop him anymore.
He kicked Vlad several times in a vulnerable spot.
Not to kill him. To break him.
Vlad screamed with the pitiful voice of an ordinary human being.
Kayden remained completely unmoved.
After a brief glance around, his eyes settled on the child, who had watched everything in silence.
He stepped closer. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want to try?"
The little boy slowly approached.
Then he kicked Vlad over and over again with all the strength he could muster, as though trying to drive every trace of fear out of his own body.
Only after something inside him finally settled did he step back. He hurried behind Kayden, hiding there as he whispered in a tiny voice,
"Sir… your foot is bleeding."