Despite how much I disliked getting out of bed in the mornings, I found myself on the way to the laboratory, one hand holding a cheap cup of coffee while the other was buried inside the pocket of the white coat I wore over my pajamas. My comfy, huge slippers dared to fall off my feet with each step I took, emitting an irritating sound.

As soon as I took out my hand to open the door, I missed the warmth that had gathered in my pocket, and the minute I walked in, I thrust it right back, not surprised to hear growls vibrating throughout the entire area.

As I drew closer to the observatory window, I noticed my hazy reflection, or to be more precise, the blurry contour of my unkempt hair. I didn't simply dislike mornings; I despised them.

I sipped another mouthful of my not-so-hot beverage before placing it on the desk, then spoke loudly while pressing a finger on the keyboard. "What on earth are you doing here?"

My voice echoed across the laboratory and down into Connor's ears, startling him for a split second.

But I wasn't expecting a real response. According to the settings introduced into the computer, he was clearly striving for a better score than ever before, employing a high-risk, low-reward strategy to rack up a massive number of points, which was completely different from his usual training regiment.

People would question his integrity as the heir to the Blake Guild if he tried such a daring practicing method in any other training facility. The lab was the only place he could have gone all out while also risking making some blunders along the way.

Despite knowing everything, I couldn't help but poke fun at him, or so I thought as he cocked his head toward me, revealing his tongue. My brother's rudeness didn't bother me, and my lips simply tensed up as I realized what was about to happen.

Turning around, his shoulders twitched as a creature with only smooth skin on top of the region where its eyes should have been pounded on him. Although it couldn't physically harm Connor, I knew that seeing sharp lines of fangs directly in front of his face would be enough to scare him.

The monster itself was rather distinctive in comparison to other creatures encountered in dungeons. Not only through its hideous appearance, but also by the way it subconsciously employed mana to track down its food, which I had to admit was quite clever.

It didn't need eyes or hearing because of the environment it evolved in, and instead depended mainly on its tactile receptors and taste to identify the flavor of its meal.

Low-ranking monsters use mana instinctively in unique ways that most hunters cannot, and high-ranking creatures may be considered in a league of their own, as they can bend mana at will. Monsters, like humans, might adapt to almost anything through experience. The possibility that there are other species out there that are far more intelligent than us has long been a looming threat to mankind as a whole.

I'm not sure why such dungeons appeared in the first place. They've been around for a few centuries and no one has found out what they are. Making assumptions would be an act of arrogance on my behalf.

A certain someone, on the other hand, would be unconcerned about the attempts made by the best minds society had to offer in order to figure out why those dungeons existed, and would simply continue to spread his erroneous beliefs. The individual I was referring to was—

"Reyna!" exclaimed my brother as he stormed into the room, forgetting to close the door behind him. Compared to my sluggishness, he seemed quite energic first thing in the morning. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Did what precisely?" I asked because I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

Connor's expression contorted in even more annoyance. "Used the speaker to scare the crap out of me!"

"Had I really done that?"

Then something unexpected happened, making me lose my usually calm demeanor. Connor swirled his fists in my hair, causing it to tangle even more so than before.

"Wait, stop. I was just—"

But none of my words got through to him.

Only the thunderous bangs coming from the entrance stopped him. "I'll grab the door," he harrumphed as he made his way toward the door, knowing that we were the only ones who could open it.

"You didn't need to do that," I muttered, trying to arrange my cherry-red hair with my fingers. It was, unsurprisingly, even messier than before. "And who did you even call here?"

Although there were some other facilities on the lower floors, most people would not bother visiting this laboratory in particular.

"It's Gray," he answered, releasing me from the clutches of the morning.

My brain, which had been sleeping for quite some time despite having traveled all the way here, began functioning at full capacity. There was only one possible answer I could reach.

"You're messing with me," I reasoned, and as if to support my suspicions, Ben's figure appeared holding a silver platter as soon as the door slid open.

"Good morning, Connor," the older gentleman greeted as he entered, placing the tray on the workbench in the center of the laboratory. "It's good to see you're awake too, Reyna."

As I sniffed in, I could feel the fragrance of bacon and eggs reaching across the room and into my nose, indicating that my appetite has completely returned.

"How did you figure out I was lying to you?" Connor questioned, spreading jam on a slice of bread with a knife.

Good, I thought to myself as I saw him doing that.

By the time you'll finish chewing on that, I'll have devoured everything. Everyone knows sweets are meant to be consumed after something salty. The fact that you're not even aware of that much makes me doubt if we're even related, my petty brother.

"Figure out what?" Ben couldn't help but ask.

"That Gray wasn't the one banging on the door," my brother said, taking over the topic as he took a huge bite out of the bread.

I drew my chair and crept toward the tray, not minding much that Connor spoke on my behalf. Even though I admired the old man, conversing with others was taxing. It wasn't as though I was socially inept or something. Rather, I couldn't bring myself to pay much attention to other people.

Trying to discuss subjects I wasn't particularly interested in was mentally draining. That's why Connor became a translator between me and the outside world, which greatly simplified my life as a result. One of the benefits of being siblings with a socializing butterfly, am I right, Greg? I asked in my mind as I glanced at the skeletal dummy in the corner.

"Oh, well, I was under the assumption that young man despises hanging out here, but it would be great to meet him again."

When Connor heard that, he smiled. "So you're saying you approve of him?"

Since I was curious what was Ben's thoughts about Gray, I found myself paying a lot more attention to the subject at hand.

"I've always liked him, but if I had to criticize him, it'd be his stubbornness," Ben mumbled, dragging his palm across his cleanly shaved face as he rummaged through his mind. "I'm afraid he's also really inflexible."

Relieved to hear that, I finally plunged my fork into an egg, causing its yolk to spill all over the plate and a little on the pieces of bacon.

At the same moment, my mind wandered to another question.

What are you up to now, Gray?