Egor was still caught somewhere between sleep and waking when Klaus's voice cut through the haze.
Sharp.
Irritated.
"No. Not tomorrow either. I won't be able to work for at least three days."
Silence.
A woman's voice on the other end — tight, annoyed. Egor couldn't make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable.
"I don't care. Handle it yourself."
More talking.
More pressure.
"I already told you. I can't work like this. And Egor won't be working either."
His voice rose.
Egor caught fragments—
full of himself… discipline… consequences…
"Fine. Three days."
Click.
Klaus hung up before she finished.
"Morning…" Egor muttered, forcing his eyes open. "You took time off?"
"Yes." Klaus didn't look at him. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight. "Until we deal with the last possessed one, you don't go anywhere without me."
He left the room.
Just like that.
Egor stayed where he was.
For a while.
Breathing slowly.
The sleep had been too deep.
Too heavy.
Almost unnatural.
After breakfast, Klaus took over the laptop.
Focused.
Silent.
Gone somewhere else entirely.
Pauoka was in the kitchen, marinating meat.
The smell filled the apartment.
Warm.
Comforting.
Wrong, somehow.
She muttered under her breath about his "royal habits"—
and still cooked what he liked.
Washed his clothes.
Ironed them.
Changed his sheets.
Again.
And again.
She had never done that for Egor.
He didn't care.
…Not really.
Maybe a little.
The kitchen was half torn apart.
Dust.
Tools.
Noise.
Egor watched Klaus for a moment.
Thought about the money.
Where it came from.
What it cost.
Said nothing.
He still wasn't sure about the time off.
So he called.
From the bathroom.
Door closed.
"Good morning… um… Klara?"
A pause.
"Yes, Egor." Her voice was hoarse. "What is it?"
He'd woken her.
Of course.
"Sorry. I just wanted to confirm the leave…"
"I'm aware," she said dryly, "that you've both suddenly fallen ill."
A pause.
Then, colder—
"And tell your brother something for me."
Her voice sharpened.
"No matter how irreplaceable he thinks he is — my patience has limits. I expect you both back in three days. Functional."
Silence.
"Anything else?"
"No."
Click.
Egor exhaled.
At least I'm not fired.
The workers arrived at eleven.
Noise exploded through the apartment.
Drilling.
Metal.
Voices.
Dust everywhere.
Pauoka left almost immediately.
Klaus and Egor followed soon after.
Neither argued.
"Good. Finally," Klaus said, reading a message. "We have something."
"But nothing on the girl."
"Then we start with what we do have."
They took a taxi.
Again.
Egor watched him.
"You don't think you're spending too much lately?"
Klaus gave a faint smile.
"I spent ten years in a castle. People washed me. Dressed me. Fed me. Habits don't disappear overnight."
"But you managed before."
"That was survival." A pause. "Now I don't have to pretend."
He looked out the window.
"I'll be going home soon. If I return like this…" He shook his head slightly. "You don't understand what highborn are like. They notice everything."
Another pause.
"I won't disgrace my family."
Egor didn't answer.
Because that didn't sound like desire.
That sounded like obligation.
No one met them.
Doors closed.
Phones unanswered.
Klaus's patience snapped.
"Damn it."
"Are nobles even allowed to swear?" Egor tried weakly.
Klaus's eyes flicked toward him.
Cold.
Flat.
"You have no idea what nobles are like when no one's watching."
A beat.
"Brothels. Gambling. Anything that lets them forget who they're supposed to be."
His voice dropped.
"And sometimes… they don't come back from that."
"Looking for someone?" a voice cut in.
A man stepped out from behind the stairs.
Short.
Oddly dressed.
Sharp eyes.
The folder he held was thick.
Heavy.
Real.
Klaus flipped through it fast.
Paused.
A photo.
Her.
No doubt.
"Another job," Klaus said immediately. "Urgent."
"Fifty percent extra," the man replied.
"Forty."
"Fifty."
A pause.
"…Fine. Tomorrow."
Money changed hands.
Quick.
Clean.
Done.
Minami sat by the window.
Wine in her hand.
Stars above.
Cold.
Distant.
Untouchable.
Her fingers brushed her forehead.
The faint blue star.
The last thing she had.
The only thing left.
The memories came—
Violent.
Unstoppable.
Blood.
Fire.
Screams.
The carriage.
Bodies.
Her family—
gone.
Her grip tightened.
Too tight.
The glass shattered.
Wine spilled.
Dark—
then red.
Blood mixing with it.
Running down her fingers.
"Help me," she said calmly.
A girl rushed in.
Too young.
Too careful.
Hands shaking as she cleaned the wound.
Bandaged it.
Silent.
Efficient.
Later—
the basement.
The witch.
The ones who never came back.
"Hungry?" Klaus asked.
They walked.
Slow.
No rush.
Nowhere to be.
"You ever wonder how normal people live?" Egor asked.
"I don't know," Klaus said. "I've never needed to."
"You never wanted to?"
"I wasn't allowed to."
A pause.
"The higher your status, the less freedom you have. Even your thoughts aren't entirely yours."
Another step.
"Sometimes," Klaus added quietly, "slaves have more freedom than nobles."
Egor stopped.
"And you still want to go back?"
Klaus didn't hesitate.
"It's my duty."
Not:
I want to.
They found the building.
Waited.
Hours.
People came.
Left.
Time dragged.
"Maybe we should go," Egor muttered.
Klaus didn't even look at him.
"We wait."
Then—
A car.
A girl.
Blonde.
Exactly.
"Finally," Klaus said.
Then—
"Go."
"What? Me?"
"You wanted to be useful."
Egor froze.
Heart racing.
Too loud.
Too fast.
Think.
Say something—
anything—
"Hey! Wait!"
She turned.
Annoyed.
"Yeah?"
"I—uh—I was looking for you—at the shop—"
"What shop?"
"I—there was supposed to be a shoot—"
"There isn't."
Silence.
She stared.
Waiting.
Egor's mind went blank.
Completely.
"Well?" she snapped.
"I—uh—"
Say it.
Say anything.
"—I'm your fan."
The silence stretched.
Thick.
Humiliating.
"…What?"
"I wanted to meet you."
Her expression hardened.
"I don't have time for this."
She turned.
Walked away.
Panic hit instantly.
Egor grabbed her wrist.
Too hard.
Too sudden.
"Hey—what the hell—let go!"
The orb pressed against her skin.
Light flickered.
Weak—
then stronger.
"Are you insane?!" she snapped. "Let go or I'll call the police!"
"I'm not hurting you—just—wait—please—"
Her breathing changed.
Faster.
Sharper.
Real fear now.
"Money?" she shot back. "Is that it? You want money? Or what—sex?"
"No—no—nothing like that—"
The light pulsed.
Almost there—
almost—
"HELP!"
The scream ripped through the yard.
Loud.
Sharp.
Immediate.
A door slammed open.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Coming fast.
Egor's grip tightened.
Too late.
Too late to stop.
"Klaus—please!"
Hands grabbed him.
Pulled.
Hard.
A shocker—
raised—
Egor shut his eyes—
Sound.
Impact.
But no pain.
He opened them.
Klaus.
In front of him.
The guard dropped.
Then the girl.
Silence.
Heavy.
Sudden.
"You got it?" Klaus asked.
Too calm.
Too controlled.
"Yes—but your hand—"
Red marks.
Six.
Burned into his skin.
His fingers trembled slightly—
just for a second.
Then stilled.
"Nothing," Klaus said. "Let's go."
Egor followed.
Head down.
Silent.
Again.
Useless.
Again—
Klaus got hurt.
Because of him.
They walked.
Didn't speak.
Didn't look at each other.
Egor's thoughts spiraled.
He hates me.
Of course he does.
I'm dead weight.
Always was.
Say something.
Fix it—
anything—
But Klaus said nothing.
Didn't even notice.
Lost somewhere else.
And that—
hurt more than anything else.