A week had passed, and Peter and Alan sat in a small café on campus, the warm buzz of chatter and clinking cups filling the air.

"I'm telling you, the Hoods are suspicious," Alan said, taking a sip of his soda.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Just because they won't expose themselves?"

"No," Alan said, leaning forward. "Because they haven't decided to support the country."

"That's your reasoning?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Think about it," Alan said, his tone growing conspiratorial. "The Atlantian Legacy always has undercover diabolists in every country they invade. For all we know, the Hoods could be working with them."

Peter stared at him, slack-jawed. "That's the dumbest reason I've ever heard."

"You're in denial," Alan shot back, crossing his arms.

"He's right, though," a feminine voice chimed in.

The two turned to see Mercedes standing nearby with a small smile.

"Sorry," she said. "I overheard your conversation and couldn't help myself."

"No problem," Peter said with a grin. "Though you can only join if you're on my side."

Mercedes laughed softly as she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Don't worry, I am." She glanced at Alan. "You're... Allen, right?"

"Alan," he corrected, blinking at her dumbly.

"Sorry," Mercedes said with a polite nod. "Think about it, Alan. If the Hoods were really working against us, they'd be quick to approach the government and infiltrate from the inside. But they're keeping their distance. Maybe they know something we don't and are staying away to protect us."

Peter smirked and leaned back in his chair. "See? She gets me."

"I'm being ambushed. Two against one—it's not fair at all," Alan said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

Before Peter could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the contact, a smile creeping onto his face as he answered.

"Hey, Jane... I'm just hanging out with Alan and Mercedes. ...I'm at the café, why? ...Hello? Hello?" Peter frowned as the call abruptly ended.

Alan leaned forward, chugging the rest of his soda in one go. "What did she say?"

"Not much," Peter said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "But I think she's coming over."

Mercedes tilted her head, curious but keeping her expression neutral.

A few minutes later, the door to the café swung open, and Jane entered, looking like she'd rushed to get there. She scanned the room, spotted them, and marched straight to their table.

"Jane! Back me up," Alan pleaded as soon as she reached them. "Tell them the Hoods are suspicious."

Jane looked at him like he'd just said the sky was green. She sighed, crossing her arms. "I forgot you were stupid. How else would you come up with something that ridiculous?"

"Wha—come on, baby, don't do me like that," Alan said, grinning sheepishly.

"Dude, don't call her that," Peter said, shaking his head.

Jane ignored them both, fixing her gaze on Peter. "Get up. We have to go."

"Oh," Peter said, blinking before standing. "Later, guys."

Mercedes watched as the two left, her curiosity growing. "Those two... are they together?"

Alan shook his head. "Nope. They just work together."

"Oh," Mercedes said, her expression softening in understanding.

----------------------------------------

Jane had to constantly remind herself that Peter wasn't hers and that he had every right to make female friends. But the thought wasn't doing much to calm her irritation.

"Jane, please slow down," Peter called out, struggling to keep up as she stormed ahead.

Jane frowned, deliberately quickening her pace. By the time they reached Eva's house, she had managed to reign in her temper, though her expression still held traces of annoyance.

"You two merge. I'll grab the gear for the test," Jane said curtly before heading downstairs to retrieve her equipment.

"She seems angry," Eva remarked, watching Jane disappear down the stairs.

"I know. She won't even tell me why," Peter said, exhaling in exasperation.

You're the reason, Eva thought, suppressing a smirk as she shook her head. She stepped closer to Peter, pressing her forehead against his as they began to merge.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A rush of power surged through Peter, and he stretched his arms with a content sigh. "Man, that feels amazing every time," he said, flexing his fingers as if rediscovering them.

Jane returned moments later, carrying a bundle of equipment. Without a word, she began attaching electrodes to Peter and setting up her laptop. Her movements were sharp, efficient, and notably silent.

"As per the results from the last test, you should be able to channel a bit more power this time," Jane said, her tone all business. "So, begin."

Peter nodded, sitting cross-legged on the carpet. He closed his eyes and began to meditate, channeling power as Jane's computer recorded the readings.

Jane sank onto the couch, pulling out her phone while the equipment did its job. She navigated to the mission request website, her expression indifferent as she browsed through the latest postings.

One request caught her eye—it was the same one she had already rejected twice. The pay had increased again. Jane rolled her eyes and hit reject for the third time.

Another mission offer popped up. Jane tapped on it, scrolling through the details with mild curiosity.

"My name is Anthony Grey. I require your services to heal my sister," it read.

Jane almost dismissed it out of habit until her gaze snagged on the payment offer.

Six million.

Her eyes widened slightly. That was a number she couldn't ignore.

Jane hesitated, glancing briefly at Peter as he meditated. Technically, she was supposed to consult him and Eva before accepting any mission. But six million...

Her finger hovered over the screen before she tapped accept.

----------------------------------------

Lying on the hospital bed was a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl, her chest gently rising and falling with the aid of machines. Numerous devices surrounded her, monitoring her vitals with quiet, rhythmic beeps. She was in a deep comatose state, her expression serene yet hauntingly lifeless.

Seated on a couch beside the bed, her mother sobbed uncontrollably, her face buried in trembling hands.

"I've contacted Legion," the father said, standing by the window, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "They said they'd send a diabolist."

The mother's sobs faltered for a moment. She looked up, her tear-streaked face filled with a glimmer of hope. "Are they sending the Angels?" she asked, her voice trembling.

The father sighed deeply, avoiding her gaze. "I don't know. They didn't specify."

On the couch beside their mother sat the girl's two brothers. The older son, wearing a sharp suit, exuded an air of professionalism and maturity. He looked every bit the respectable businessman.

The younger son, however, was a stark contrast. He wore a loose t-shirt, his arms lined with tattoos, and his hair dyed an unapologetic green. Despite looking even younger than his sister, there was a restless energy in his movements.

The younger son pulled out his phone, glancing furtively at his family before refreshing a website on his browser. A friend of a friend had discreetly shared the link with him, claiming it was the key to contacting the Hoods.

It was an unorthodox and controversial choice. Most wealthy and powerful families wouldn't even consider reaching out to people like the Hoods. The proper channels, like the globally recognized Legion Organization, were far more reputable and reliable. But the younger son had always admired the Hoods, not just for their mysterious reputation but because they were ranked as the fifth strongest diabolists in the world.

The page refreshed, and a notification appeared on the screen. His heart raced as he read the words.

"The mission has been accepted."

He shot to his feet in surprise.

"What's wrong?" the older brother asked, startled by his sudden movement.

"The Hoods—they've accepted the mission," the younger son said, his voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

----------------------------------------

"You did what?!" Peter exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief.

"Trust me, it's an easy mission," Jane said with a shrug. "We go there, heal the girl, and come back. It won't take longer than the weekend."

"Jane, you were supposed to consult us!" Peter retorted, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"It's over the weekend! You don't have any assignments due, and it's six million," Jane countered confidently.

Peter froze mid-rant. "Wait... Did you say six million?"

"Yes," Jane confirmed with a knowing smile.

"As in six million dollars?" Peter asked, his tone shifting.

"Yes," Jane repeated, her smile widening.

"Why didn't you say that earlier?" Peter said, his frustration evaporating as he touched his forehead and undid the merge. "Eva, we have a mission," he called.

Eva, who had been listening the entire time, frowned as she leaned against the doorway. "Is money that important?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Yes," Peter and Jane said in perfect unison.

Eva shook her head, looking unimpressed. She turned to leave but suddenly stopped mid-step, her expression shifting subtly. A flicker of something crossed her face—an unease Peter and Jane didn't catch.

Meanwhile, Jane and Peter were too busy imagining all the things they could buy. "We can't go on the mission," Eva suddenly said, her voice cutting through their daydreams.

"What?" Jane snapped, snapping back to reality.

"I said, we can't go on the mission," Eva repeated firmly.

Jane crossed her arms, glaring at Eva. "I've already accepted it."

"Then maybe you really should have consulted us first. I have plans," Eva said, her tone icy.

"You were fine with it a minute ago," Jane shot back.

"Well, I just remembered my plans," Eva said curtly, turning away.

Jane opened her mouth to argue further, but Peter stepped forward, his tone calmer and more measured. "Eva, can these plans be put off?"

"No," Eva said bluntly.

Peter sighed, choosing his next words carefully. "Eva, this mission involves healing someone. If we don't leave on time, that person could die. Do you want that?"

Eva hesitated, her resolve wavering. Above all else, Eva valued helping people. She glanced at Peter and then at Jane, their expectant faces silently urging her.

"Fine," she muttered before walking away, clearly annoyed.

The moment Eva was out of earshot, Peter and Jane exchanged grins and slapped a high five.

----------------------------------------

Peter ran home, bursting through the door to find only his mother and Ruth in the living room. Ruth glanced up from her phone, barely paying him any attention.

"Oh, it's just my broke brother," Ruth said with a smirk before turning back to her screen.

Peter walked over and knocked her lightly on the head. "I'll remember that," he said with a mock glare.

Ruth laughed. "You're so predictable."

"Mom, I'm going on a trip," Peter announced, turning to his mother, who looked up from her book in surprise.

"So soon?" Mrs. Davis asked, concern flashing across her face.

"Yes, but don't worry. I'll eat well and say my prayers before bed," Peter assured her, attempting to ease her worry with a grin.

Mrs. Davis didn't seem convinced, her brow furrowed as she set the book aside. "You know, you don't have to keep doing this job. We can support you until you graduate. Just focus on your grades for now. I mean, you have a real shot at J & K," she said, her voice laced with concern.

Peter paused for a moment, his expression softening. "Mom, I want to do this while I still can," he said earnestly.

Mrs. Davis sighed deeply, clearly still uneasy, but she didn't press further.

Peter leaned down and kissed her cheek. "When I come back, I'll buy you a car, so start practicing your driving," he said with a playful smile before dashing toward his room.

"Wait, what about me?" Ruth called out, her voice indignant.

Peter's laughter echoed down the hall as he disappeared into his room.