Outside Room 208, a silhouette lingered by the door.

A young girl crouched by the walls, fiddling with the metal chains around her wrist as she quietly listened to the muffled sounds coming from inside the room.

After the hooded man demanded their exit, the five had promptly scattered out one after the other, and she was the final person to leave. While the four people before her left hurriedly, the girl chose to remain by the door.

Her long lashes hovered over the rims of her eyes as her gaze lowered to the ground. Her index finger slowly drew a smiley face on the dusty floor.

If she probed deep into her memories, the girl could scoop out faint memories of her past. She knew that she used to live in the capital, that she used to be surrounded by people.

She didn't know how she got here, but when she woke up one day, she was in the Slums, lost and alone.

The girl did everything she could to survive.

Most of the Slums' residents lived in suffering. After all, few financial pathways were available around here, and the food they were given was barely enough for subsistence.

The few who didn't live poorly were either addicts or alcoholics, but it was these people who had the most power.

She was good at adapting and had above-average looks, so she often caught the attention of those powerful people. He was one of them.

The first time they met was on a rainy night. The girl, crammed against the alleyway trashpiles, lifted her head and was met with a pair of glowing, green eyes. A person wearing a suit stood hovering over her. He held a red umbrella over her head, blocking off countless drops of rain.

"Good evening." Despite the sound of splattering rain all around them, the man's voice was as clear as day. "What's a lovely canary like you doing here?"

The man introduced himself as Mister Finch, one of the area's landlords. She was abandoned, the girl was told. Mister Finch also said that he pitied her, that he would take care of her.

Mister Finch gave her a name: Shea.

Shea didn't know what pity meant, but it was the first time someone gave their utmost attention to her.

It was a strange feeling.

She'd also seen some girls taken in by other landlords, but a few days later, she saw them again on the streets, unmoving. This was the common fate for people like her in the Slums, so Shea thought the same would await her soon.

But it didn't.

Mister Finch was a kind person. Instead of kicking her out, he taught her all types of things, from arithmetics to lip-reading; they were things Shea wouldn't even think of learning in her entire life.

In the beginning, she couldn't get them right, and Mister Finch would be disappointed in her. His kind and countenance smile would wane, replaced by an emotionless face. But as time passed, she learned how to make him happy.

Good things happened when he was happy. She no longer ate leftover food; she no longer slept in the basement; she no longer was in pain…

At some point, his happiness became her own.

One day, Mister Finch took her outside. He led her to a strange building. When Shea asked where they were going, he turned to her with a smile.

"Paradise," he said.

When Shea asked why, he told her he was going on a trip and couldn't bring her. He said to her that she would do great here.

"Would it make you happy if Shea stayed here?" She tilted her head.

At her words, Mister Finch stopped walking. He looked at her, a smile slowly spread across his face. "Yes."

"Yes, Shea, I would be very happy."

That was the last time Shea saw the man.

Mister Finch was right. She did do great here.

Many people wanted to be happy, and she fulfilled their wishes. Even though their happiness was comprised of things different from Mister Finch, Shea didn't mind.

They liked her, and she liked being liked. Maybe it was because so many people liked her, but she was allowed to participate in something extraordinary. Or at least that's what the people in Paradise told her.

The Hunt was what they called it.

They told her she would do great there.

Shea was excited; she wanted to make people happy.

Boss Prophet and the hooded man—she had heard them talk before entering the room. She knew the latter was here for the Hunt, to be happy.

After all, that's the only reason they would also bring her here.

Upon seeing him, Shea had thought that, like the others, the man would also be happy after seeing her.

So why?

Her brown eyes lingered at the door, attempting to stare through it. She gazed toward the hooded man whose back had faced her this entire time.

How strange.

She couldn't make him happy.

At that moment, the door to Room 208 flung open, pulling Shea out of her thoughts. A boy with bright, golden hair, looking slightly older than her, stepped out into the hallway.

The two of them made eye contact.

"You're…" Celio instinctively tensed as he studied the girl crouched outside the room. He recalled her actions in the back of the room, and a frown emerged on his face. "Why are you still here? You should run away."

Lord Faren told him to guard the door, and his Master seemed to have unfinished business with the fake prophet, which was why he came out by himself. He didn't expect to see anyone out here.

The girl in front of him appeared a few years younger than him. Being almost two heads shorter, she had to actively uptilt her head to meet his gaze. Celio's eyes trailed from her messy hair and tattered clothes to the chains binding her limps.

Seemingly unfazed by his scrutiny, the girl only stared back in curiosity.

Celio let out a sigh.

The girl tilted her head as she eyed the brown cape suddenly in front of her. She stared at the piece of clothing, then at the yellow-haired man offering it. The girl blinked.

The next thing she knew, the shackles around her ankles collapsed, and she could move her legs freely.

"I don't know how you got here, but you should get out. This place isn't for you." Celio said, extending the cape once more.

The girl stared at him with a strange look, as if he was speaking a foreign language. After a few seconds, she took the cape from his hand.

"Hey," she said. "Do you want to be happy?"

***

MEANWHILE — INSIDE ROOM 208.

"The Fallen Prophet."

Contrary to the calmness in his voice, Edris was on the verge of a full-body cringe after squeezing out that nickname from his own lips.

He was aware of his reputation in the kingdom. Sure, the title was quite notorious, and sure, it was widespread throughout the capital, but he didn't expect someone to actually uphold the title as their own.

Oh, the embarrassment.

Pushing down his inner confusion with a deadpan smile, he turned back to the man on the floor. By the looks of the pure horror on Boss Prophet's face, he didn't expect Edris's answer at all.

"Lies!" He hollered the next second. "I am the Fallen Prophet. You imposter—"

His eyes bulged at the swirl of purple—the infamous Tempest—resting on top of Edris's finger tip and, in the next second, obediently cowered back on the floor.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry. I truly am," he stuttered, face flushed from the lack of air. Or was it from the mortification of being exposed by the "Fallen Prophet" himself? Edris wasn't sure.

Regardless, Boss Prophet scrambled onto his knees, pressing his forehead onto the hard floor, only to be yanked back by the collar still in Faren Ablemore's hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Please spare me! I'll do anything. Just don't kill me."

Unconvinced, the mage moved his hand across the leash buckles.

"More information! I have more information!"

At his words, Faren's hold on the leash loosened as he spun to look at Edris. Boss Prophet fell back, desperately trying to refill the air in his lungs.

"Start speaking," Edris said.

"When I met with the people who gave me the guest list, I overheard some conversations." Voice quivering, the man regarded both of them with a careful gaze. "Something about collecting from the preys, something about awakening..."

The man's pupils suddenly constricted as his voice hitched in his throat. With trembling lips, he glared toward Edris and Faren with a look of disbelief.

Faren froze as he realised something. He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers across his right cheek.

Blood.

The next moment, Boss Prophet's head slipped from his neck and rolled onto the floor.

"Down!"

Before the mage had a chance to react, he was yanked down by Edris, who also ducked to the ground. Several objects flew above their heads, smashing the windows and engraining themselves onto the wall across.

One of the objects exploded on the spot, spreading an eruption of flames around the room.

Shards of glass scattered all over the floor, melding in the pool of crimson leaking from the decapitated man.

"Are you alright?" Edris whispered, gazing at Faren beside him.

The latter nodded in response. Amidst the burning room, Faren's clouded eyes unknowingly landed on a lump in front of him.

Boss Prophet's corpse.

Faren's face paled as a surge of nausea rose within. Heart pounding in his chest, it took him everything he had to not vomit on the spot.

Ten seconds passed in silence.

After ascertaining that whoever was behind the attack was gone, Edris gave the mage a nod and stood up half bent from the ground, dusting off tiny glass shards in his hair. He glanced over to the broken window.

A breeze rustled from the empty frame, and a beam of moonlight shone into the room, intermixed with the rising smoke.

Amidst the tattered room, Edris stood still, lightly tapping his chin, thinking. His mind flashed back to Boss Prophet's words.

Whatever the man had overheard, it must have been confidential information. Information important enough that simply mentioning it got him killed on the spot.

Boss Prophet had mentioned something about collecting and awakening...

Struck by another thought, Edris lifted his head. During the sudden attack, something had flown past their heads. He moved his gaze to the wall on the other end of the room.

Three cards were ingrained in the wall, surrounded by flames.

"Cards?" Faren noticed them as well. "Whoever's behind the attack must have been an Awakened. No way regular cards can break through glass windows. These must be mana-infused."

Edris nodded in agreement. He carefully moved towards the walls and yanked off the card at the centre. Both sides of the card were blank. He did the same to the second card. Blank as well.

As he reached for the third card, however, he was hit by a sudden burst of pressure, and his fingers stopped an inch away.

"Prophet Edris?" Faren called out after seeing that the man had frozen on the spot.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Something was wrong.

On a rational level, Edris knew that the mage was right behind him. However, the latter's voice emerged as a distant echo, reverberating around his ears. His heart pounded clearly in his chest, drilling in each beat with lucidity.

An indescribable feeling rose within his chest, bringing up fragments of memories he didn’t even know existed.

Not now.

Closing his eyes, Edris focused on the sound of his own heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

After five seconds, the man opened his eyes. A purple spiral engulfed his hand as Edris reached for the card, jerking it in a single movement. Out of caution, he had activated the neutralising Tempest just in case there was still leftover magic embedded in there.

Flipping the card to its front, Edris glanced at the cover:

A torrent of fire.

"Prophet Edris, the fire is spreading." Faren coughed from behind. He raised his cloak to cover his nose and mouth.

A thick fog of smoke had surfaced all around them, instigated by the explosion of flames.

Edris gave him a nod. He looked back at the card in his palm, giving it one last glimpse before shoving it into his pocket.

"Let's go."

***

OUTSIDE ROOM 208.

"What?" Celio asked, dumbfounded.

"Do you want to be happy?" The girl asked again. "Shea can do great."

The young beast tamer blinked twice, then immediately stepped back, face flushed pink. "What are you saying!"

"You don't, either?" She lowered her head, a few strands of hair falling before her face. "The guy over there, and you… You guys are weird."

Before Celio had a chance to respond, a surge of heat surfaced from behind. An ominous feeling arose in him, and the beast tamer instinctively jumped to the side, dragging the girl with him.

An explosion occurred right at the spot where they had been, sending debris flying into the air. A shard of glass brushed past Celio's face, smearing red onto his left cheek.

The entire room behind them was enveloped in a sea of flames.

"What the…" Celio gasped as he rushed forth, only to be pushed back by the intense heat. "Master! Lord Faren!"

The explosion caught many's attention, and panic immediately arose. People started pouring out of Paradise, scrambling to get to safety.

Celio attempted to move towards the door, only to be yanked back. Flustered, he looked down at the source of the restriction and realised he was still holding on to the girl's wrist.

"S-sorry!" He released his grip on her. "You should go too. It's not safe here anymore."

Amidst the burning chaos, the girl's expression was unexpectedly calm. "Where to?"

"Huh?"

"Where should Shea go?"

Her round eyes, reflecting the sea of flames, peered into his own.

Celio didn't know how to respond.

As if she had expected it, the girl merely stepped back. Under Celio's dumbfounded gaze, she raised both arms, and the chains around her wrists contorted and curled, as if responding by some invisible force.

Celio's eyes widened as the blocks of metal flopped onto the ground. "You're an Awakened?"

The girl responded by cocking her head to the side. Before Celio could ask further, the girl was already making her way into the flames.

"Wait, hold on!" Celio's chest tightened, and he reached for her back.

To his surprise, instead of setting ablaze, the girl's body blended in with the fire. The flames clung onto her and coiled around, as if welcoming her into an embrace.

He watched as the girl disappeared into thin air.

While Celio was taken back by the turn of events, he immediately overcame the shock and focused on the more important matter at hand. Even though the girl disappeared into the fire, it didn't seem like she was in pain, so she should be okay.

With these thoughts in mind, the beast tamer spun around towards the burning room, only to come face to face with no other than Edris.

"Master!' he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"Naturally." Edris shrugged.

At his response, Celio let out a sigh of relief, only to stiffen once again. He skimmed their surroundings. Edris had stayed in the room with Faren Ablemore, but right now, the latter was nowhere to be seen.

As if reading the boy's thoughts, Edris spoke up. "He's taking care of things in the room."

Celio blinked. "What happened in the room? Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine." As he said that, Edris looked behind him, towards the silhouette emerging in the smoke-filled room. "After all, the Crown Prince not your average mage."

"Oh, that's a relief—" Celio froze. "Pardon me?"

He then saw someone in the distance.

As the silhouette got closer, the person's hair, initially brown, seemed to recombine itself into a fiery red that grew more and more pronounced after each step.

The beast tamer's gaze moved from the person's signature red hair to the item in his hand.

The Sense-Capture Notebook.

Confusion found its way to Celio, and a knowing smile appeared on Edris's face.

"I'm glad you're alright." Edris looked towards the man in front of them. "Your Highness."