A low murmur and dim lights welcomed Seran as he arrived at Gordon's.
Sharpening his gaze to find his friends, he scanned the cocktail bar.
Low glass tables and red suede armchairs hosted people lost in their drinks, immersed in the soft background music.
At the far end of the room—there it was. His table.
Kathy, Mard, Lucan, and Sylvia were deep in a lively conversation, laughing.
As he approached and sat down, the four didn't recognize him.
"Sorry, but we're waiting for a friend. This seat is taken," they said in unison.
"Have I really changed that much?" Seran replied with a smirk.
"Seran? I didn't recognize you with all that silver…" Mard paused, realizing what he had just said. "And are you hitting the gym? Look at that physique!" he added, surprised.
Mard was a slender guy, with short blonde hair.
Seran made himself comfortable at the table.
"And what's with the long hair? New trend?" Lucan commented, his black hair framing sharp blue eyes.
Running a hand through his hair, Seran realized Lucan had a point. With everything going on, he hadn't even noticed how much it had grown.
"No… just been busy with other things…"
"Even your eyes have changed…" Sylvia added, her soft features framed by long brown hair.
Kathy followed up,"Don't tell me you went through the Trigger! You could've died, idiot!" she said, punching his shoulder.
Seran's expression turned serious. He let out a breath.
"After what happened that night… a lot of things changed."
Then, forcing a lighter tone, he continued,
"But what about you guys? I doubt I'm the only one with news."
They lowered their gazes for a moment, remembering the tragedy from a month before.
Then the conversation resumed.
Hours passed between old memories, laughter, and a touch of alcohol.
By 1:00 AM, Sylvia, Mard, and Lucan—slightly drunk—took a taxi.
"I live nearby… I think I'll walk," Kathy said.
"Then I'll walk you home. You're still a lightweight when it comes to drinking," Seran replied with a laugh.
He supported her under his arm as she struggled to keep her balance.
His new physiology allowed him to metabolize alcohol quickly, drastically reducing any side effects.
They walked along the sidewalk, guided by the cold air and the glow of street lights, in silence.
Kathy broke it.
"I went to see Regis… you know how much I cared about him. Do you think he'll recover?"
Her eyes grew slightly teary.
"Yes. I'm sure of it. He's always pulled through… and this time won't be any different," Seran said, comforting her.
Kathy had feelings for Regis—feelings he, somewhat foolishly, had never noticed. Interacting with girls was the one thing he wasn't good at.
"He'll make it…" she whispered, hopeful.
Then suddenly—
three shady figures appeared.
Sudden for Kathy, perhaps—but not for Seran. His senses had picked them up ten seconds earlier, hiding in a dark alley.
"Quiet night, huh? If you want it to stay that way, hand over everything you've got!" said the tallest one, pulling a knife from behind his back.
The other two, faces covered like his, stepped forward.
"Kathy, behind me. Five seconds and it's over," Seran said calmly, stepping in front of her.
"Well, look at that—we've got a brave one tonight. Smash his face in… then maybe we'll have some fun with his friend," the armed thug sneered.
Seran's gaze hardened.
Rage flooded his body.
Mana responded to his fury—the air itself began to shift.
The three swallowed nervously.
Recognizing a Tower in front of them, they stepped back.
Seran vanished.
"Shit, we picke—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
A punch struck his temple, knocking him out instantly.
The second didn't even understand what happened before finding himself on the ground—a leg broken, jaw shattered.
The third swung his knife at the raging figure—
but cut nothing but air.
Frozen in fear, he turned.
A hand—like a vice—grabbed him by the neck, lifting him off the ground.
"Quiet night, huh? Imagine when it isn't."
Seran slammed him into the ground, knocking him out.
He returned to Kathy, still shaken and stunned by his strength.
Taking out his phone, Seran made a call.
"Yes. Ambulance. Intersection 102 and 103. Three severely injured."
He hung up.
After escorting her home, she thanked him with a tight hug before going inside.
Curious, Seran returned to the alley.
He saw emergency responders taking the three away.
But then—one arm slipped from a stretcher.
The sleeve had been lifted by a paramedic.
Time stretched.
His heart pounded.
His eyes widened.
On that arm—
a tattoo he had seen before.
A black serpent.
The only difference was its size, but the style and ink were identical.
His hands trembled.
A volcano of rage pressed against his mind.
As he stepped closer, his gaze turned to ice.
A medic stopped him.
"Step back. We need to get them to the hospital immediately."
With cold composure, Seran pulled out his Tower license.
"There are traces of mana in the area. A Tower is definitely involved. Just tell me where they're being taken. My colleagues at the Presidium will handle the questioning."
He was lying.
The medic, seeing the seriousness in his expression, replied:
"Saint Mary."
"Thank you."
He returned to his apartment.
And with effort, sleep finally silenced his thoughts.