Zeratile sat at the bar, a broad smile stretching across his face, his eyes slightly squinting. The alcohol coursing through him made the world spin slowly yet thrillingly. The club was alive with booming music, the heavy bass thumping against his chest while colorful neon lights flickered, creating a vibrant atmosphere that felt chaotic yet strangely comforting. The room was filled with people dancing, laughing, and shouting to be heard over the pounding music.

In front of him, the bartender placed a glass of golden liquid that shimmered softly under the bar's lights. Zeratile picked up the glass with slightly unsteady hands, letting out a little laugh as he glanced at the girls next to him. They were giggling, chatting among themselves, but occasionally stealing glances at him. In his tipsy state, he felt an unusual confidence.

"Heeey, ladies," he called out, his voice louder than intended, drawing their attention. His smile was almost childlike. "Have you ever seen a guy drink a glass of whiskey in one gulp?"

One of the girls, a blonde in a tight red dress, looked at him with curious eyes and smiled. "Really? Show us."

Zeratile laughed too loudly, then grabbed the whiskey glass and held it high, as if he were about to perform a grand feat. He caught the girl's gaze briefly before dramatically lifting the glass to his lips and downing it in one go. The strong liquid burned his throat, but he didn't care. Setting the glass back down with a satisfying thud, he wore a look of triumph.

"See? Easy," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

The girls laughed, partly entertained and partly aware of just how tipsy Zeratile was. The blonde leaned in closer, her smile widening as she tilted her body toward him. "You're quite impressive," she teased. "But it looks like you've had a bit too much to drink tonight."

Zeratile shook his head vigorously, almost toppling off his stool. "No, no! I... I can drink more! I... I'm a legend around here!" He burst into laughter again, this time sounding even more uncontrolled.

The bartender, witnessing the spectacle, shook his head slightly but said nothing. He was all too familiar with people like Zeratile—those who came to the nightclub to escape reality and enjoy the temporary freedom that alcohol and flashing lights provided.

After a bit more banter with the girls, Zeratile suddenly stood up. "I want to dance!" he yelled, his voice almost swallowed by the booming music. The girls laughed at his antics but didn't try to stop him. He staggered toward the dance floor, where others were already lost in their own rhythm.

Once on the dance floor, Zeratile began moving his body in a chaotic manner, swaying to the pulsating beat. His arms and legs were out of sync, but he didn't care. He laughed, feeling dizzy, but in his inebriated state, everything felt incredibly fun. Occasionally, he waved at those around him who didn't even notice him.

"Yeeaah! Here we go!" Zeratile shouted, spinning around. He felt like a star, even though only a few people glanced his way, bemused by his wild dance and loud laughter.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder. A large man with a tough face stood next to him, likely a security guard. His expression was stoic, clearly wanting Zeratile to calm down.

"Buddy, you might need to take a break," the man said, his voice firm despite the loud music.

Zeratile looked up at him, confusion written all over his face before breaking into a wide grin. "A break? Hahaha! No way, I'm just having fun!"

The man gave him a flat stare, then sighed. "Come on, you've had enough to drink. Either go back to the bar or step outside, alright?"

Zeratile nodded absently, chuckling again. "Alright, alright, I'll go back!" he said, turning and wobbling back to the bar, his steps even more unsteady than before.

When he reached his seat again, the girls were gone. Perhaps they had grown tired of his antics, or maybe they had moved on to another part of the club. Zeratile didn't care. He simply stared at the empty glass in front of him and smiled.

"What a night," he muttered to himself, even though reality was spinning faster than he had anticipated.

The bartender approached, watching him with a sympathetic gaze. "Want some water? You look like you've had enough."

Zeratile shook his head vigorously again, nearly toppling off his chair. "No! More whiskey... or maybe tequila! Something stronger!"

The bartender shook his head slightly, pouring a glass of mineral water instead. "Here's water. Trust me, you need this."

Zeratile stared at the glass of water, bewildered, before lifting it to his lips and taking a big gulp, slamming it back down with too much force and splashing a few drops on the bar.

"My life... my life is a mess," he said suddenly, his tone turning serious. "I work hard, but everyone just... just plays with me. They don't care. No one cares." His vacant stare was fixed on the bottles behind the bar, but his thoughts drifted far away.

The bartender sighed, having heard similar complaints from many patrons who came to the club to escape their problems. He didn't know what Zeratile was truly going through, but it was clear that tonight, the man had reached his limit.

Zeratile burst into laughter again, a desperate sound. "But it's okay... because tonight, I... I can forget everything. I can be someone else. I can be whoever I want to be!"

With that, he took another swig of the water in his glass, as if it were a strong drink that could wash away all his burdens. Around him, the club continued to thump with music, neon lights flashing, and people dancing freely. But for a moment, Zeratile felt utterly alone in the midst of the chaos.

Laughter and loud music surrounded Zeratile, but his mind began to drift far away. He could feel his body starting to succumb to the fatigue brought on by the alcohol. The glass in his hand was half-empty, his eyes half-closed, but in his head, he couldn't stop thinking about his chaotic life and the mounting pile of work waiting for him.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared in front of him. A man in a black suit, complete with dark sunglasses, stopped right before Zeratile. "Zeratile," he said in a low but firm tone.

At the sound of his name, Zeratile's demeanor shifted. His relaxed, drunken expression faded, replaced by a serious one. He knew exactly who had come for him, even though the man hadn't said his name. Without saying a word, he stood up from his chair, straightened his jacket, and followed the man outside the club.

Once outside, the cold night air hit them immediately. The man in sunglasses opened his jacket, revealing a bottle of water and a small pill, which he handed to Zeratile. "Take this. It's a detox pill. It'll help you come to your senses faster."

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Zeratile stared at the pill with cold eyes and shook his head. "I don't take pills," he said firmly. "It's a matter of principle."

The man seemed confused for a moment. "But you—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Zeratile spread his arms and began to quietly chant a mantra. In the quiet night air, his murmurs were faint, but the magical energy radiating from his hands was palpable. The detox spell he cast worked in seconds, clearing the alcohol from his system. Zeratile's half-closed eyes suddenly looked vibrant, and his face regained its sharpness and focus. "Detox magic is much quicker," he stated flatly.

The man in sunglasses looked slightly taken aback, though he tried to mask it. He simply nodded and continued leading them to a luxury car parked by the roadside. The vehicle was black, with such dark windows that it was hard to see inside. The man opened the back door and gestured for Zeratile to enter.

Inside the car sat an older man with white hair and a calm demeanor. His eyes were sharp and calculating—someone clearly seasoned in the ways of the world. This was Darius, a figure Zeratile hadn't seen in a long time but still recognized well.

"Zeratile," Darius greeted in a flat yet authoritative tone. "You really know how to waste time in places like this."

Zeratile settled casually into the seat beside him, brushing off the sharp comment. "What I do in my free time is none of your business," he replied lightly. "Besides, you're the one who sent someone to pick me up. So, clearly, you have a reason."

Darius smiled slightly, as if expecting that response. "You're right," he said, raising a hand. "We won't waste time. We have a mission for you, and this time the reward is substantial."

Zeratile turned his head, now a bit more intrigued. "What mission?" he asked.

Darius pulled out a holographic tablet from his jacket. He pressed a button, and a small transparent screen appeared between them. On the screen were images of a dark-haired boy and a young girl with white hair, both staring blankly at the camera.

Zeratile furrowed his brow. "Who are they?" he asked.

Darius moved the tablet closer, zooming in on the boy. "You might know this boy," Darius said, his tone serious. "This is Prince Archemidas Evernoir, the long-lost heir to the throne."

Zeratile scrutinized the image more closely. He had indeed heard the name Archemidas before—a prince who had supposedly vanished long ago. But seeing him in this context, involved in a mission with someone like Darius, made everything feel more complicated. "And the girl beside him?" he asked, pointing to the white-haired girl next to Archemidas.

"The girl isn't as important as the prince, but she's also a target," Darius replied. "We don't have complete information about her, but she's always near Archemidas. We suspect she might be his bodyguard, or perhaps something more."

Zeratile crossed his arms, his mind beginning to analyze the situation. "What do you want me to do?" he finally asked.

Darius looked at him intently. "I want you to capture them. Archemidas must be brought in alive. We have many questions for him. As for the girl, if she proves too dangerous, handle her as needed. But remember—the prince must be alive."

Zeratile paused, contemplating the offer. "And the reward?"

Darius smirked slightly. "You'll be paid more than enough, I guarantee that. Moreover, the information you can gain from this mission could be more valuable than money."

Zeratile sighed quietly, his eyes still focused on the image of the prince on the tablet. "Alright," he finally said. "I accept. But remember, I work on my own terms."

Darius nodded in agreement. "Of course. We just need the results. You're free to determine how you go about it."

Zeratile leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Where to now?"

Darius looked out the window. "Anima Corp. They're located there. That's your starting point. After that, you'll have to follow their trail yourself. There won't be a map or guide. You'll have to find them."

Zeratile nodded slowly. "I understand." But in his mind, he knew this mission wouldn't be easy. A missing prince, a mysterious girl, and Anima Corp involved—it was bigger than it appeared on the surface. But he had made his decision. Now, it was time to prove himself once again.

***

Nexus Port City was a bustling hub, filled with the sounds of crashing waves and the constant activity of people. Yet in a secluded corner of this vibrant port city, in a dark room behind a warehouse, an entirely different scene was unfolding. The room was cold and damp, illuminated only by a few candles whose flickering flames danced in the breeze from a slightly open window.

On the floor lay a man covered in blood, his body convulsing from excruciating pain. Sharp scissors repeatedly pierced his chest, each thrust accompanied by a chilling laugh echoing through the room. Mira, the young woman inflicting the torture, laughed maniacally, her face lit up with a twisted joy that gleamed in her eyes every time the man in front of her screamed and moaned.

"I love your expressions!" Mira cackled, twisting the scissors deeper into the fresh wound. "Keep screaming! I love hearing it!"

Yet, in her mind, she wasn't truly seeing the dying man before her. Instead, she envisioned Abigail, the woman she idolized above all else. Abigail's soft, icy smile and her confident gaze consumed Mira's thoughts—she was obsessed. Mira longed to be like Abigail or, better yet, to be by her side, recognized and admired by her idol. Each stab she made was a dedication to Abigail, a perverse offering of loyalty.

As Mira lost herself in her fantasies, the door creaked open, and a large man named Jack stepped into the room, dragging someone behind him who whimpered in pain, their mouth gagged and face filled with terror.

"Mira!" Jack called out in a deep voice. "We have a lot of work to do. Don't waste too much time on one person."

Mira looked up, grinning like a maniac. "But he screams so beautifully, Jack! You have to hear him!" Her eyes sparkled, devoid of any empathy.

Jack, a burly man with a perpetually weary expression, sighed heavily. He was used to Mira's psychopathic tendencies, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. "We have a list of people to clear out of this city," he said firmly. "Ophelia just told me that Abigail and Prince Archemidas will be arriving in Nexus Port soon. We need to finish our work before they get here."

At the mention of Abigail's name, Mira's eyes lit up even more. A surge of emotion overwhelmed her, making her entire body tremble with excitement. "Abigail... Abigail? Abigail! she's coming here?" Mira asked, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I... I can't wait! I have to meet her! Finally, I can see her again!"

However, when Jack mentioned Prince Archemidas, Mira's expression shifted instantly. Her smile vanished, replaced by a flash of deep hatred in her eyes. "Prince Archemidas?" she murmured under her breath. "He doesn't deserve to be by Abigail's side. Only I deserve to be there. He... he's just an obstacle!"

Jack, having grown accustomed to Mira's crazy ramblings about Abigail, shook his head and continued. "Don't mess anything up, Mira. Remember, we're working for Eliphas. The plan has to go off without a hitch."

Mira huffed but wasn't really listening. Her thoughts were too consumed with Abigail. In her mind, Abigail was everything—a perfect figure unreachable by anyone except her. The presence of Prince Archemidas beside Abigail was an insult to Mira. Ever since she learned about their close relationship, she felt she had a formidable enemy to eliminate, even if that enemy was a prince.

"Why is he always with her?" Mira muttered to herself. "Why can't she see me? I'm the one who will always be there for her... I would do anything for her. Not Archemidas!" With renewed hatred, she plunged the scissors into the chest of the man before her, imagining it was Prince Archemidas.

Jack raised an eyebrow, observing Mira's exaggerated reaction, which he knew all too well. "Listen, Mira," he said firmly, "Mr. Eliphas has a plan. Abigail and Archemidas play important roles in it. Don't ruin everything just because of your crazy obsession."

Mira paused for a moment, lifting her head to glare at Jack with a piercing gaze. "I won't ruin anything, Jack," she replied, her voice calmer, though her eyes still shone with madness. "But I just want to make sure she knows who truly deserves to be by her side."

Jack rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "Make sure you don't cause a major problem. Our work isn't about Abigail or the prince; it's about clearing Nexus of bounty hunters and suspected individuals from Anima Corp."

Mira clicked her tongue, as if she didn't care much for Jack's words. She was more focused on her fantasies of how she would meet Abigail. How Abigail would smile at her, perhaps uttering words of praise for her unwavering loyalty. Yet, lurking in the back of her mind was the shadow of Prince Archemidas. She felt hatred, anger, and resentment that anyone else could get close to her idol.

"But remember," Jack added as he dragged the victim out of the room, "We can't fail. If Mr. Eliphas's plan falls apart, we will all pay a heavy price."

Mira smiled faintly, but her smile held a hidden meaning. "Don't worry, Jack. I know what I need to do."

Yet deep in her heart, Mira knew one thing. If anyone were to get close to Abigail, it would not be Prince Archemidas. It would only be her. And for that, Mira was willing to do anything—even break Mr. Eliphas's orders if necessary. Abigail was everything to her, and she wouldn't let anyone stand in the way of her idol.

***