"The return of Clara and Marcus made Dante understand what Simone had said hours ago. The brutality was evident on their faces, their dark and desolate gazes, while their slumped shoulders showed the exhaustion of the entire morning.

Dante didn’t approach them. The outcome of the meeting wasn’t a question to be asked at such a tense moment. Clerk and two other men came closer, and Clara answered some of their questions, keeping her head high, pretending a certain contentment.

Even the worst liars would despise the pretense in Clara’s smile and laughter. The horror was more than evident.

The right thing was to wait. Dante turned and jumped into the city. He didn’t look back and was already in the middle of the street when he heard footsteps behind him. The small and old man, Jix, walked lightly and unhurriedly, tapping his cane with each step.

'Ah, you noticed me faster than last time, Dante.' His smile wasn’t fake. 'May I know where you’re going now? Your friends don’t seem too thrilled to see you leaving at this moment.'

'I don’t want to disrupt their plans.'

Jix opened his mouth in understanding.

'So staying away would help? Seems like a risky decision. I was in the meeting, you know?' He stepped ahead on the street. 'I heard quite a bit from a young man leading the hunts saying it was Clara’s fault. The girl didn’t even have a chance to fight back. It was just shouting, but that young lady with flowers in her hair, the one staring at Marcus, helped her.'

'Luma?'

Jix pointed at him.

'That’s the one. I’ve never seen someone so calm yet so euphoric. Reminds me of when we were younger, huh?' He let out a low chuckle. 'The younger brother’s injury was internal. They can’t do much now since there are no medicines or anything like that.'

'What did they decide to do?'

'Meliah—I think that’s his name—said there’s a Lunar Stone in the lower part of the metro.' Jix shrugged. 'He mentioned that the last time he saw someone appear out of nowhere, it was near one of those underground entrances. There are a lot around here, aren’t there?'

From where he stood, Dante could see at least two in long distances. Their doors were sealed with iron and yellow tape, and weeds also covered the metal of the panel. It didn’t seem like the creatures had come out of there recently.

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'And the sewers,' Jix said, pointing. 'Do they look sealed to you?'

Dante stopped beside one and crouched, lifting the cover slightly. The stench of sewage rose. It wasn’t just the odor—it was the moans from the depths. Even in the darkness, Dante could see the silhouettes running from one end to the other, like a dark sea with its unstable waves.

It was just as Clara had told him. "Live by day, hide by night."

Even though it was a small sewer opening, the Felroz could clearly climb up from there daily. What intrigued Dante the most was why the creatures in the Capital didn’t fear the sun, but in Kappz, they did.

Was there a difference between them? Could the location be influencing them?

'GreamHachi will come sooner or later, Dante,' Jix said, leaning on his right leg. 'I heard from Marcus that you wouldn’t kill a man unless he crossed your line.'

The cover was put back in place. Dante stood up and clapped his hands together, dusting them off.

'A conscious man.'

'Even a man can lose his consciousness despite seeing. Would the man who did that to the Jones’ younger brother be spared if he came to you?'

Dante said nothing. The answer was clear. Whoever appeared with malicious intent would be treated as an enemy. Would his father respect his choice? After all, it was he who had taught him to see intentions.

His fists were made to destroy creatures. Was this what I was trained for, Father?

'Dante.'

'What is it?'

He didn’t turn, staring at the dozens of uninhabited buildings. Each empty floor, only the wind swaying the grass that had crept through windows and doors, the trees growing through the rubble and holes in the walls.

'Can I ask you something?'

'As a friend or an ally?' The question made him laugh. Tecno and Freto still remained in his memory.

'A friend would ask for a favor. An ally would do what’s necessary to earn trust, proposing a promise.' Jix stepped forward, where Dante could see a bit farther ahead. 'As a friend, I’d like you to deal with the problems these cities have. It’s the only place without a selfish leader. But if you look clearly at each of those who lead, you’ll see that selfishness shapes their society, keeping it strong through fear or purpose. Marcus is strong and close to Clara, but he won’t be enough to keep this group united. They need a solid foundation, strong and with a perfect history.'

'I’m not the perfect person for this.'

'I never said you were, Dante.' Jix’s eyes were firm, overflowing with confidence. 'We need respect and fear united in one man. Clara is respect, Marcus will be fear. However, when they think of them, you must be like a mountain impossible for enemies to climb. And to do that, I need you to show no mercy to those who wish us harm.'

Dante waited until he had fully turned. The wind blew so hard it ruffled his clothes. The old man’s face was full of determination, with a proud smile.

'These people need someone with an iron fist to guide them through the chaos. I want to believe you are that person. Not to make them comfortable, but to inspire. I will be with you, Dante. I can show you what’s necessary, I can show you the path I learned by stumbling, a path that has already been paved.'

The responsibility of a people. Dante had left his village expecting missions to make him more mature, for each of his choices to carry weight adorned with his hierarchical position. A people… his fists. Was this taking a step too big?

'Dante, can you do this?'

'I would never let the people who saved me get hurt.' His fist clenched and opened repeatedly. 'What do you think I should do first, Jix?'"