Three Years Later
“…and based on that, the number of members across the three seasons has now reached ten thousand. From the list you gave to Rose, 70% have been successfully recruited into the organization, and we’ve identified all their locations. Roady has also gathered more intel to exploit their weaknesses, though it seems they’d join us anyway given our current popularity—”
Mujun read the report from his small notebook in a tone laden with exhaustion and disinterest, embodying just how much he detested his job—or rather, the boss seated before him.
Shiki, sitting with her legs crossed, paid no mind to Mujun's sharp gaze. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. Her long hair cascaded softly down the back of the plush leather chair she occupied. The white school uniform she wore hugged her body snugly, the buttons straining against her increasingly full chest. Her dark blue skirt rode up slightly as she crossed her legs, revealing skin as pale as milk. Any ordinary man would have been entranced, ogling her with unrestrained lust if they had been in Mujun's place.
Yet Shiki remained unfazed by Mujun’s gaze—it held no trace of desire, only pure boredom.
Across her two lifetimes, perhaps only Mujun and the man with violet eyes had ever looked at her without a hint of lust. Still, Shiki was certain they weren’t the same person.
Why?
Even though Shiki couldn’t clearly recall the face of the man with violet eyes, she could vividly remember the sheer intensity of his gaze and aura. Those violet eyes saw the world as nothing more than a massive playground, as if his existence was entirely unburdened—free, untethered, and unbound by the rules of the mundane world.
In Shiki’s eyes, he didn’t seem like a normal man. He resembled a god who regarded everything as a mere joke, while the world was a theme park he had created for his own amusement. Suffering, sorrow, happiness, even destruction—they were all just games to him. And his smile—that ever-present, mischievous smile—never left his face, as though he was laughing at everything and everyone.
That aura of freedom and indifference filled Shiki with envy. It seeped into her soul, transforming into an obsession—an obsession to capture that man. She wanted to erase that smile from his lips or, at the very least, find a way to smile as freely and carelessly as he did.
As for Mujun? His gaze exuded a boredom so profound it felt suffocating, as if nothing in the world could pique his interest. He lived merely to exist, with no drive to resist the current or even flow with it. He was like a faint shadow that could vanish into a bustling crowd without a single soul noticing his absence.
To Mujun, the world might seem like an old black-and-white movie with blurry visuals. Even if the storyline was compelling, he could never sit still to watch it, as his mind was perpetually blank, incapable of grasping meaning. The sounds of the world seemed to vanish, replaced by the void that filled his thoughts. Unconsciously, his attention was easily drawn to trivial things—a butterfly flitting in search of a flower to perch on, or perhaps trapped in a spider’s web.
Yet even those scenes failed to stir feelings of joy, curiosity, or sadness in him. All that remained was an overwhelming sense of boredom, extinguishing the light in his eyes. His gaze was empty, like the eyes of a fish that had dried out—lifeless and soulless.
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Both men were unique, but Shiki knew full well they were not the same person.
It was truly unfortunate they weren’t the same. If only the violet-eyed man were Mujun, Shiki wouldn’t feel this frustrated and disappointed. Her three-year search for the violet-eyed man had ended in futility. Mr. Thompson had scoured every country in Atta World, examining the records of all residents—both the living and the dead. His confidence had been unshakable: if that man existed anywhere in one of the countries, he would have been found, even if he were hiding under a rock.
But the result was still nothing. Every candidate suspected of being the violet-eyed man turned out not to be the one Shiki sought.
Perhaps, just maybe, if the search were extended to remote tribes untouched by modern civilization, there was still a possibility of finding him. Unfortunately, Shiki’s time in this world was running out.
“…According to Johan’s report, several foreign groups of unknown origin have begun interfering with our recruitment activities. They’ve also started investigating the reasoning behind our target selections. For now, their interference isn’t too troublesome, but in the future—”
Shiki glanced at the clock on the wall. Only a few minutes remained before the teleportation would begin. She wanted to let out a long sigh, but she knew it would only deepen the furrow in Mujun’s brow. His impassive face, filled with unspoken grievances, seemed to ask: “Why are you sighing when I’m the one standing here reporting to you?” or “Are you mocking me with that sigh?” Perhaps even: “If you’re so tired, why don’t we just stop all of this?”
But Shiki, as always, ignored the complaints written plainly on Mujun’s face.
The organization Shiki had formed to facilitate the recruitment of future dragonewt fighters was named Four Seasons. True to its name, the organization was divided into four teams, each with its own leader and function.
Spring was led by Johan. This team handled the heavy lifting, such as picking up targets, capturing those who refused to join, intimidation, and even real threats. With his physicality and skills, Johan was the ideal leader for this function.
Summer was led by Rose, a 20-year-old woman. The primary role of this team was to search for, monitor, and spy on targets. Rose was no ordinary individual; Shiki knew her from the Procession Tower as the queen of the black market. She was the leader of Black Canary, the largest organization dealing in the buying and selling of information. For dragonewts in the Procession Tower, there was no information Black Canary couldn’t obtain—they were even rumored to know about events before they happened. Rose was assisted by her deputy and lover, Roady, who was an expert in managing surveillance networks and operations.
If Rose was the best information seeker, then Roady was the best information processor. His ability to sift through vital information and compile it into strategically usable data was truly remarkable. The combination of Rose and Roady made Black Canary one of the most fearsome yet invaluable organizations for dragonewts in the Procession Tower.
Unfortunately, their fate was tragic when the Brides’ War began. The enemies aiming to cripple the dragonewts targeted Black Canary with full force, destroying them first to blind all factions. In the end, Rose and Roady met their demise, their bodies torn apart as they breathed their last in each other’s embrace.
Currently, Roady leads the Autumn team, tasked with processing and analyzing all information gathered by the Summer team.
Winter is currently led by Mujun. While he is technically the head of this team, in reality, the Winter team consists solely of him. It could be said that Winter is Mujun. Initially, Shiki had no intention of involving Mujun beyond satisfying her curiosity about this brooding man. However, over time, Shiki realized that Mujun was someone she could trust and eventually made him her confidant.
Winter has only one function: to act as Shiki’s extension. Mujun’s primary role is to bridge communication between Shiki and the other three seasons. As one of the strongest fighters in the Procession Tower, Shiki understood that a faction leader should not grow too close to their subordinates. This was not only to protect the leader but also to safeguard the faction’s future. If subordinates became too close to the leader, there was a risk they would focus more on currying favor than on completing their tasks. Therefore, Shiki appointed Mujun as her proxy in dealing with the other members of the Four Seasons.