Rio shifted against the cold stone wall, pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the small window. The morning sun bathed the estate in a golden glow, its light spilling over the horizon like liquid fire. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange, and the courtyard spread out before him—lush greenery, neat rows of swaying crops, and the stone boundary walls enclosing the mansion. But something felt… off.

He leaned in further, squinting. No patrols. No movement. No rhythmic march or murmur of guards. The usual signs of morning activity—the clatter of hooves, the echo of orders being barked—were absent. The place was silent, unnervingly so.

Rio frowned, craning his neck to get a better view. “That’s weird…” he muttered. “There’s no one outside.”

Asper, who had been sprawled against the wall fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve, perked up. “Really?” He shot to his feet, shoving Rio aside with enough force to make him stumble.

“Hey—what the goodygoon, Asper?!” Rio grumbled, catching himself against the wall.

“Shh!” Asper hushed him absentmindedly, pressing his face to the glass. His eyes darted around the empty courtyard, his expression cycling between curiosity and forced seriousness. “Maybe… maybe they’re all sleeping?” He peered left, then right, as if expecting a guard to pop up from under a bush. “I mean, I would too. Who’d want to work for that grumpy old duke?”

Rio let out a chuckle, crossing his arms. “Please, Asper. Stop trying to sound smart.”

Asper turned his head slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rio grinned, holding back another laugh. “You think an entire mansion’s worth of guards just decided to hit snooze at the same time?” He shook his head, biting his lip to contain his laughter. “It’s a duke’s estate. Security doesn’t just sleep in.”

Asper blinked, his face scrunching up in confusion. “What? Everybody needs sleep.”

That did it. Rio clapped both hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter, his shoulders shaking.

Zenji, who had been kneeling by the doorframe, exhaled through his nose, his patience wearing thin. Without a word, he slowly pushed the door open an inch, peering out into the corridor. His sharp eyes scanned the hallway, illuminated just enough to reveal every detail while casting soft shadows along the walls.

“Maybe it’s a trap…” he murmured, his voice steady, but low. He nudged the door open a little more, the faint creak breaking the stillness. He waited. No response. No hurried footsteps. No shifting of weapons. Just silence.

Or…

His fingers tightened on the doorframe.

“Or maybe,” he said after a beat, “our luck hasn’t run out yet.”

He glanced back at the two still snickering idiots and made a quick shushing motion. Then, with a nod, he gestured for them to follow.

“Let’s move.”

The trio moved cautiously through the hallway, their footsteps light against the polished floor. But while Zenji maintained a composed, calculated pace, Rio and Asper looked like amateur spies from a cartoon—exaggerated tiptoes, backs pressed dramatically against the walls, and whispered exchanges that were anything but subtle.

Asper even raised his hands in front of him like he was sneaking through a villain’s lair, glancing from side to side with an exaggeratedly serious expression—much to Zenji’s growing irritation.

“Would you stop that?” Zenji muttered, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead. “You’re making it even more obvious that we’re up to something.”

“I’m blending in with the silence,” Asper whispered dramatically.

Zenji exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose—the universal gesture of a man questioning his life choices.

Rio glanced behind them to ensure they weren’t being followed, then gestured ahead. “The Duke’s room is back that way,” he murmured. “So Boko’s office should be this way.”

Zenji nodded, keeping his voice low. “Well, let’s hope so.”

Asper’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That’s right! Nun Mira said all the stolen stuff goes to Boko. That means my bag’s probably there!” His voice rose with excitement before Zenji flicked him on the forehead.

“Shhh. Do you want to announce our presence?” Zenji scowled.

Asper winced, rubbing his forehead. “Geez, alright, alright. But come on, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Rio smirked, shaking his head. “You sound awfully confident for someone who got us into this mess.”

Asper groaned, throwing his hands up. “How many times are you gonna bring that up, Rio? I already said sorry!” He folded his arms, then muttered, “Besides… my stuff is kind of important.”

Zenji gave him a flat look. “You’d better hope it’s there.”

They finally came to a stop in front of a grand wooden door, its dark frame embellished with gold trimmings and an elaborate lion-shaped handle. Asper gulped, shifting nervously on his feet.

"Alright," Rio whispered, pressing a hand against the door. "Moment of truth."

With a slow, steady push, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the chaos within.

The office, once an imposing display of wealth, had been reduced to a ruinous mess. Shattered glass carpeted the floor, catching the morning light in sharp, dangerous angles. A massive window at the far end had been smashed open, jagged edges framing a view of the sprawling estate. The grand mahogany desk that once commanded the room had been overturned, one of its thick legs snapped clean off. Gold coins, gemstones, and priceless antiques lay scattered among torn documents, broken furniture, and toppled shelves.

Zenji's sharp eyes swept across the devastation, and he exhaled, stepping forward. "What the hell happened here?"

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"Looks like someone had a temper tantrum," Rio muttered, nudging a broken chair leg with his foot. His gaze flicked to Asper, who stood frozen in the doorway, expression blank with shock, shoulders sagging, lips slightly parted as he took in the destruction.

Rio smirked. "Or maybe someone just really hated the decor." He turned to Asper, grinning. "Hey, Asper, you got brain freeze or something?"

Asper let out a dramatic, tearful sniff. "Ha. Ha. Very funny." He gestured helplessly at the wreckage. "How in the world are we supposed to find my stuff in this mess?"

Rio chuckled, plucking a small scrap of cloth from the debris and handing it to him. "Here, blow your nose, poor boy."

Asper snatched it with a scowl and exaggeratedly wiped his face before straightening up. "It's definitely here. We just need to find it."

“Wait a second,” Rio interjected. “And how are we supposed to know what we’re looking for? You haven’t exactly been specific.”

Asper blinked. "Oh… right." He scratched his temple, giving a sheepish grin. "I guess it’d be hard to find something if you don’t even know what it looks like."

Zenji sighed. "I swear…"

"Okay, okay!" Asper held up his hands. "It’s a scroll tied with a ribbon and a small, shiny orb. The orb kinda… gleams."

Zenji raised an unimpressed brow. "Gleams?" He swept his arm toward the room, where countless treasures glistened under the morning light. "Oh, great. That narrows it down to every damn thing in here."

"Hey, it’s not that bad! Just start looking!" Asper shot back, already sifting through a pile of broken wood and fabric. He shoved aside splintered chair legs and torn upholstery, coughing as dust filled the air.

Rio let out a low whistle. "Well, this is gonna be fun."

Zenji sighed, rolling his shoulders before scanning the wreckage. He moved toward an overturned bookshelf, lifting a heavy wooden plank and tossing it aside with a dull thud. "We don’t even know where to start."

Rio, crouching near a heap of crumpled documents, nudged a pile of scattered papers with his foot. "Over there," he pointed, narrowing his eyes at a mess of scrolls buried beneath shattered glass, chunks of stone, and wood fragments. "If your scroll is anywhere, it’s probably in that disaster."

Asper nodded, already moving toward the pile. "Fine. Just start digging!"

Zenji continued searching, stepping carefully through the debris, his boots crunching over broken glass. He crouched near the broken desk, brushing dust off his bandages before slipping his fingers beneath a large wooden slab. He lifted it slightly, his fingers fumbling through the narrow gap between the desk and scattered debris. His fingertips brushed against something smooth and round. He froze.

Curling his fingers around it, he pulled it free with a small grunt. The object gleamed faintly in the light. Holding it up, he turned toward Asper. "Hey, Bancroft. This your orb?"

Asper glanced over and immediately shook his head. "Nope. That’s too small. It should be bigger—about the size of a fist."

Zenji exhaled through his nose, then casually tossed the useless orb behind him before continuing his search.

Rio let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t see any scroll with a ribbon, Asper. It might not even be here."

Asper shook his head. "No way. I know it’s here somewhere. Keep looking!"

Zenji muttered something under his breath but crouched again. He wedged his fingers under another chunk of splintered wood, shifting it aside before his hand brushed against something solid. This time, when he pulled it out, he immediately knew. A larger, gleaming sphere rested in his palm, its smooth surface catching the morning light.

"Got it," Zenji said flatly, holding it up.

Asper spun around, his face lighting up. "Yes! That’s it!" He rushed over, carefully cradling the orb in his hands like a long-lost treasure. "Nice work, Zenji!"

Zenji waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t thank me yet. Where’s your scroll?"

Asper didn’t answer—he was already diving back into the pile of scattered papers and broken wood. He dug frantically, shoving aside useless sheets and dust-covered scrolls until—

"Got it!" Asper popped up, holding a dusty, slightly crumpled scroll tied with a faded red ribbon. He dusted it off, his eyes shining.

Rio exhaled sharply. "Finally. Took you long enough."

Asper grinned, clutching both the orb and scroll tightly.

Rio gave him a sideways glance. "So, what are those, anyway?"

Asper hesitated. His fingers instinctively tightened around the items. "Sorry, but… I can’t really tell you."

Rio narrowed his eyes. "Seriously? We just helped you dig through all this, and you’re still keeping secrets?"

Asper scratched the back of his head, trying to find the right words. "Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just… I don’t even know everything about them myself."

Rio clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Man, you’re just full of mysteries, aren’t you?"

Asper chuckled, slipping the orb and scroll safely into his bag. "Well, at least I finally got them back," he said, his voice quiet but filled with relief. Then his grin widened. "Now… we just have to get out of here alive. Easy, right?"

Rio groaned. "You just had to say that, didn’t you?"

Zenji crossed his arms, his expression grim. "Let’s move before we find out how wrong he is."

As they were about to turn toward the exit. Just then—

"Oh… hello, kids. Going somewhere?"

A voice.

Calm. Too calm.

Eerie and smooth, like silk wrapped around a dagger.

The air turned solid. Their bodies locked up—breath caught mid-inhale, muscles frozen in place. None of them could turn to look. None of them needed to. Their instincts shrieked, a primal, unrelenting warning. The weight of the presence behind them was suffocating, pressing against their backs like an invisible force, demanding submission.

Danger. No—worse. Predator.

Zenji’s hand found the hilt of his sword before he could think. Rio’s palm flared, a spark of heat flashing to life, muscles tensing to launch himself at the unseen presence. Their reactions weren’t conscious decisions—they were raw survival instincts kicking in.

Then—FWIP!

A shot.

Something impossibly fast tore through the air, whispering past Rio’s neck—so close, so precise, it nearly grazed his skin. The heat in his palm flickered, his balance wavered.

The voice hummed in amusement. "Calm."

Every cell screamed at them to listen.

"I wouldn’t try that if I were you, kid."

The weight of the words settled over them like a suffocating fog. This wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise, a fact of survival. One wrong move, one twitch in the wrong direction, and whatever force lurked behind them would tear through them without hesitation.

They froze—again, but deeper this time. Like prey caught in the unblinking gaze of a beast. Their own bodies betrayed them, locking down every muscle, every breath.

The air in the ruined office thickened, pressing in on their lungs, their instincts warring between the desperate need to flee and the overwhelming certainty that any movement would be their last. Even the smallest movement felt like a mistake.

A mistake that would end them.

No one spoke.

No one breathed.