I paced my breath, twisting my torso as I pounded my foot on the pavement and turned the corner. Unlike the last time I was pursued, I was able to straighten my posture without slipping (or bumping into an augmented man for that matter).

The bustling flock of citizens went on about their business, too engrossed in their worries to notice me. However, something else drew my attention as I reached yet another turn, mirrored in the window of some electronic store.

The jog itself was light. Just a few circuits around the area I lived in. Nothing exceptional in comparison to the escapade within the Underworld. I was recovering, and straining myself further than necessary would be counterproductive.

For some unknown reason, a jeep whose numbers I didn't recognize tracked me throughout the entire round. Thinking it was a result of my paranoia, I tried to shake them off my tail. It turned out to be a failure, which only aggravated my fears.

I came to a halt, waiting for them to stop or pass by. The vehicle was brown and appeared to be substantially more expensive compared to others in the neighborhood. Nothing remarkable, but much better than the 3rd District's average. Then it came to a complete stop directly next to me. The backseat window lowered, and I stiffened my muscles and grimaced, waiting for anything to happen.

"Someone's training hard," a familiar voice said, resting his elbow on the window's frame. "Looks pissed to see his friend, too."

I sighed, more relieved than anything else. "What are you doing here, Connor?"

He stepped out of the car sluggishly and said: "I wanted to meet you, actually."

My eyes turned toward the man sitting behind the wheel, expecting to see the older chauffeur so that I could greet him. It wasn't him, though, but the host of the underwater restaurant I ate at a while back. In comparison to his formal attire, he dressed casually in a long shirt and some joggers.

I arched a brow and crossed my arms, unsure where he was going.

"Well, since you didn't call back after all that 'I'm busy!' stuff, I figured I should check up on you," Connor replied.

That would have been... problematic...

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Gray," Dylan apologized as he noticed my sour expression.

I shook my head. I couldn't blame this unfortunate fellow for following the whims of the heir to the place where he worked at. The only person I should hold accountable for this inconvenience should be Connor (as usual).

"It's fine, but where's Ben?"

I was wondering what happened to the older chauffeur that used to babysit Connor.

Connor shrugged. "I don't know. I called him, but he had other matters to attend to."

That meant he had already asked him to drive him all the way to my neighborhood. I sent him my condolences, knowing how tedious hanging out with a monkey as energetic as Connor could be at times.

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"What about Reyna?" I questioned, then came with up the answer on my own. "No, I can guess what's she up to by now."

If she truly wanted to be present, she would be here. She was most likely confined in her laboratory, trying to discover more about the spell she had devised. Or some other ingenious idea she could come up with.

Connor threw an arm over my neck. "That's the attitude. Ladies have no place in the boys' night, or rather, morning."

"Master Connor," Dylan said hesitantly. "That came out improperly..."

"Shut up! And don't call me that," he barked back, putting even more pressure on the nape of my neck. "So, what are you up to? Can we hang out at your place? I haven't seen it in ages—"

He had no idea how difficult of a subject that was to discuss...

"Running," I said, wriggling out of his grasp and breaking into a moderate jog to prove what I was saying was true.

That only seemed to fuel his competitive spirit as he matched my pace. "What distance?"

"Until exhaustion?"

"Not a bad idea."

"Wait!" yelled someone from behind.

My peripheral vision was drawn to the noise. Despite the late start, it was surprising to see Dylan run at the same pace as ours. To be honest, I never took him for the athletic type of guy. But, now that I'm giving the matter some deeper thought, there are numerous training facilities at the Blake Guild. It shouldn't be abnormal for the employees to have access to them as some kind of benefit.

"He's good...."

Not slowing down, Connor gazed back. "He is, of course. After all, he's tied to the Blakes. Our personnel cannot be out of shape. We have a reputation to uphold."

"Really?" I asked, disregarding the intensifying numbness in my hip area. I had recovered, but not completely. "And what if their heir loses against a peasant such as myself?"

"Gray, did you forget I'm a hunter? Denser bones, stronger muscles, more endurance, and so on. I doubt I can possibly lose."

Yeah. Even without factoring in mana, a hunter has the upper hand. Despite the injuries that held me from performing at my maximum capacity, Connor has been working out longer than me due to the position he was in. I knew I'd fail if I dragged this out any longer.

I upped my pace slightly as I reached that conclusion and asked: "How about we make things a little more equitable then?"

Connor matched me up and asked: "The rules?"

"It's that park," I muttered as I angled my chin toward the gap between the buildings that led directly into a playground. It was packed with discarded boxes, dumpsters, and other stuff that might get in the way, as one might assume. "Whoever gets to the grass first, wins."

"I'm not going to trip and fall, you know..." he grumbled. Connor didn't appear fatigued at all in comparison to me, who was already having trouble breathing. Hunters and their absurd physical standards...

"This is your chance to back off, Gray."

Ignoring that, I accelerated further as I reached the shaft of darkness cast by the building. Not wanting to collide with Connor, I found myself heading straight toward a rusty green dumpster. I couldn't avoid it, and it was too high for me to jump over without losing my momentum. Perhaps I should try to grab the ladder hanging above...? Might work, but it is too risky to perform in my current condition.

My defeat became all but certain at that moment.

That's when another yell startled both of us, causing us to lose our moment: "Just why are we running so fast?!"

Connor's expression contorted in disappointment, slowing down with a sigh before turning to face our tail. "Why do you always have to get in the way when things are about to get interesting, Dylan?" he asked, placing both hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry, but it was you who called me on my day off to give you a ride without any explanation whatsoever!"

I tried to settle my frenzied breaths as I gave Connor a disapproving glare, as though he were the biggest piece of rubbish in the world. How could you possibly treat the poor man in this manner?

"Umm," he grumbled, scratching his chin. "I'll explain—"

"You can't," I declared as I marched away.

I ignored the whispers resounding behind me, glad I had managed to divert his attention away from my house. I couldn't have allowed him to see what was inside.

Talk about dodging a bullet, huh...