Elena found The Night Walker Bar that evening.

Honestly, she was only half convinced by Thomas Light’s words. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in legends, but—clairvoyance? She had heard of it many times, but she had never experienced it firsthand.

Still, curiosity gnawed at her. And every time she was alone, flashes of the case kept haunting her thoughts, like an inescapable curse. If Thomas was right, maybe someone could help her break free from this mental chain.

On her way, she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man Sebastian Novak was. Thomas had told her almost nothing, keeping everything mysterious, so she approached the bar with hesitation, peering through the door like a thief trying to spy on the inside.

The bar was located in the ground floor of a building with two stories, though only the first floor seemed to be in use. It wasn’t particularly large, but it had a simple yet stylish atmosphere. The decor felt a little quirky. At peak hours, it wasn’t exactly packed, but it was certainly lively, with most of the patrons being women of all ages. The bar counter was nearly full, and a tall, lean man with broad shoulders was working behind the bar, his back to the door, moving with precise efficiency.

Elena couldn’t see his face, but she could sense that he was the bar’s focal point, like a light that attracted all the sunflowers around him. In addition to him, there were two young male servers attending to the guests. Elena could see them clearly. No surprise—they were handsome.

This wasn’t one of those hidden, shady clubs, right? Elena thought to herself, hesitating at the door.

“So, are you going in or not?” A woman’s voice suddenly came from behind her. Startled, Elena spun around, her nerves on edge. The voice had startled her, especially given how jumpy she had been recently.

The woman in front of her appeared to be in her early thirties, polished and elegant, with a look that screamed “businesswoman.”

“Sorry to startle you, but you’re blocking the door, sweetie,” she said with a smirk.

“Sorry,” Elena quickly apologized, realizing her youthful face often led to misunderstandings. The woman probably thought she was a college student with a silly crush, peeking at handsome men.

“First time here? Since you’ve come, why not come inside? Were you introduced by a friend?” The woman gestured for Elena to follow her.

“Uh—yeah, I guess.” Elena answered vaguely and followed the woman inside.

Just then, the owner turned around. He saw the newcomer, and his brief hesitation gave way to a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgment.

“Hi, Sebastian.” The woman greeted him warmly, clearly a regular. She noticed there were no available seats at the bar, so she casually found another spot to sit, and Elena followed her, though her eyes were still fixed on Sebastian Novak, the man behind the bar.

Sebastian Novak felt the gaze.

He was used to being stared at, especially by women. But this new guest’s gaze was different. It wasn’t the usual admiration; it was filled with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. That intrigued him. When she walked in, her hesitation had caught his attention, but he hoped he had misjudged her.

Regardless, he had a rule: never get involved in anything that wasn’t his business. So he cleared his mind and returned to his bartending, continuing to mix drinks.

“The owner here has an irresistible charm on women, but you don’t have to look at him like your eyes are going to fall out of your head, do you?” The woman teased Elena.

“Huh? Was I that obvious?”

“Extremely direct.”

“I’ll try to tone it down.”

The Sebastian Novak she saw was nothing like what she had imagined.

In her mind, clairvoyants were always pale, with a kind of philosophical wisdom about them, perhaps a bit neurotic, and they should exude some kind of awe. Though it was a bit of a stereotype, she believed it was an essential trait of someone with supernatural abilities—how else could they navigate between realms, if not by being unusually sensitive?

But the man in front of her gave off a completely different vibe—calm, composed, and refined. His handsome face was framed by a pair of frameless glasses that obscured the depth of his gaze, while his medium-length hair was stylish and casually cut. His simple white shirt was untucked, adding a refreshing, clean look. He was confident, but not effeminate. And paired with his gentle, subtle smile, he could easily be a candidate for "world’s perfect gentleman." But a "clairvoyant"? He looked... too ordinary for that.

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The women in the room were probably swooning over the bar owner, but Elena couldn’t help but feel disappointed. So Thomas Light had been wrong, or at least exaggerating. It seemed like she had wasted a trip, but she forgave him—men, after all, could be a bit naïve sometimes.

She stood up to leave, but the woman blocked her path. “Leaving already? We just met. Stay for a little while. Don’t tell me you’re already falling for the owner?”

“Am I falling for the owner?”

“Aren’t you? Why else would you stare at him the moment you walked in? Don’t be shy. Most people who come here are regulars, and they come because they like the owner.”

“It’s obvious that he knows how to run a business.” Elena remarked cynically, watching Sebastian Novak interact smoothly with the guests.

Hearing the tone in her voice, the woman quickly clarified, “Did you misunderstand or are you jealous? Didn’t your friend tell you? This isn’t that kind of place. We don’t come here to meet men like that, even though, yes, the owner and the staff are all very handsome.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant.”

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m sure some people do come here to meet men, but most of us just come to chat and have a drink. After shouting and working all day, it’s nice to relax in a good spot.”

“It’s a nice place, the music’s great.”

“The people are great too.” The woman waved at Sebastian with a smile. “But if you’re thinking about chasing after the owner, you’ll face some competition. He’s a heartthrob around here—every woman, whether she’s in a relationship or not, has a soft spot for him. It’s no surprise. He’s one of a kind—empathetic, polite, a gentleman, and so good to everyone.”

He’s that good? Elena thought skeptically. Despite her usual cluelessness, she had a good instinct for reading people, often making accurate judgments in a split second. And her intuition told her that Sebastian Novak wasn’t quite as he seemed. Why couldn’t the women see through him? And why was this seemingly sharp woman talking so much? Maybe it was because she was unwinding after a long day, or maybe it was just the natural ease of being in a strange place.

Elena casually nodded to the woman's words, but her eyes remained fixed, studying the man at the bar with quiet intensity.

Empathetic? Maybe. But his gaze seemed to pierce straight through people, unsettling them. Polite? Certainly! Yet there was a coldness beneath the surface, a subtle distance that kept others at arm's length. Gentlemanly? Indeed. But he had an air of someone who intentionally pushed others away. Kind to everyone? Perhaps. But that only meant he treated everyone equally, with no one being more important than the next—was there anything colder than that?

On the outside, this man appeared gentle and considerate, but in truth, he was emotionally distant and reserved, exuding a quiet but intense aura of restraint. She couldn't shake the feeling that he probably had no real interest in connecting with anyone—if he had any supernatural abilities, he wouldn’t use them to help anyone. No, she wasn’t going to waste any more time here. It was better to head home, take a long bath, and maybe have a restful night.

Luckily, just then, her colleague John called, asking about the case, which gave her the perfect excuse to escape the woman's chatter and leave the "Night Walker" behind.

However, Sebastian Novak noticed her departure. He was intrigued by the directness and scrutiny with which she had looked at him. Even more curious was her refusal to initiate a conversation. He had noticed her—her sun energy was weak, but there was a dark aura surrounding her, a sign of danger. Still, she seemed to be protected by some good fortune, which shielded her from harm. As long as she didn’t get too close to whatever was threatening her, she should be fine.

The law firm had moved to a new location.

Nestled within a newly built residential area, the scenery was picturesque and the air was fresh. However, the area was largely empty, with only a handful of people having moved in so far. Their office was one of the first to settle in.

Elena had overslept, so by the time she arrived, her colleagues were already finishing up their lunch. The director told her the villa was large enough that she didn’t need to share an office with the three interns. However, the office they had assigned her was small and somewhat inconvenient—it was tucked away in the attic on the shaded side of the building.

Elena was reluctant, but given her position, she had no choice but to carry her things up to the upper floor. Oddly, the villa's interior was much more spacious than she had expected. She had thought it would be cramped, but after wandering through several twists and turns, climbing what seemed like endless stairs, she finally found the small, dimly lit room.

Now, Elena was alone in the villa. It was eerily quiet—so quiet that she could hear her footsteps on the thick wool carpet.

Shush-shush... Shush-shush...

Suddenly, Elena felt a wave of fear wash over her. She wanted to leave, but she had to place her belongings in the new office. Hesitantly, she opened the door, only to find the room even smaller than she imagined. It was filled with walls, with no windows. Inside, there was a filing cabinet, a small desk, and a wooden chair. On the chair was a rectangular box, like a gift.

Curious, she placed her things aside and, unable to resist, opened the box.

Inside was a severed head.

The head of Lucas Graves. His face was bloody, his eyes wide and staring at her, his pupils rolling in their sockets. Then, without warning, he grinned—a wicked, malevolent grin.

Elena screamed and dropped the box, leaping to the door—but the door was gone. She was left pressed against the wall.

The severed head rolled across the floor, stopping right at her feet. The decapitated head stared up at her, its eyes now wide with madness. Its mouth opened wide, as though trying to swallow her whole, its laughter echoing through the empty room. A deep, hollow laugh that seemed to grow louder as it slowly inched toward her.