I sit in my bedroom, gazing out the window as the sun sets on another day. It has been three days since the Stargate attack on the Eñeforte territory. Thanks to Sylvestria's advanced technology, most of the destruction has already been repaired. The streets look pristine, and the buildings stand tall once again.

But no amount of technology or Camilliums can bring back the lost lives. The weight of those deaths lingers over the town, a grim reminder of the price paid.

The entire community gathered yesterday for a memorial service to honor the dead. It was a sad event, marked by tears, prayers, and silence as names were read aloud. Afterward, André and Celine hosted a dinner for the townspeople, attempting to bring everyone together in the aftermath of the tragedy.

Célestin and Violette were there, of course. Célestin spent much of the evening talking to me, his tone friendly and warm. I did not notice that Violette glared at me, her disdain for the Manaless written plainly on her face. I ignored it, as I always do. Her hostility has become predictable by now.

What struck me more was Célestin’s easy familiarity with Celine and André. It makes sense, I suppose—they have probably grown close during their previous regressions. Still, it feels strange to see how naturally he fits in here.

Arthur, on the other hand, seems… distant. He speaks to me, but something feels off. His usual energy is missing, replaced by a quietness I cannot quite place. Lumi also attends, though she keeps mostly to herself throughout the evening.

After dinner, we return home. Clark, as usual, decides to sleep in my room again tonight.

“Big brother, can I have some hot chocolate?” Clark asks, his voice is soft and hopeful.

I smile at him. “Sure.”

Leaving him to settle into bed, I head downstairs, the thought of hot chocolate comforting even for myself. But as I descend the stairs, I catch the sound of voices coming from the living room. They are tense, low but urgent, carrying a sharp edge of frustration.

“What do you mean the price has changed?” André’s voice rings out, loud but controlled.

Curious, I slowly move quietly toward the living room, peeking around the corner. André sits on one of the couches, his expression a mixture of disbelief and restrained anger. Across from him is a rotund man with slick black hair dressed in an overly fancy suit that barely fits him. His fingers tap a ledger impatiently, and a smug smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I stay out of sight, listening intently. Something about this feels important—too important to ignore.

“What do you mean the reconstruction price has jumped to 150 billion Camilliums?” André demands, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “We agreed to 10 billion! That figure accounted for all contingencies, and you signed off on it, Belard.”

Belard leans back, resting his fingers on his rounded stomach. “Ah, Mayor Eñeforte, those were preliminary estimates. Costs have risen due to unexpected challenges, particularly securing materials and labor after the Stargate disaster. Surely, you understand. These things happen.”

André’s crimson eyes narrow. “This isn’t a matter of unforeseen circumstances. You’re inflating the costs. I’ve reviewed the records, Belard, and the increase is unjustified.”

Belard chuckles, his tone oozing condescension. “Oh, I assure you, Mayor, the figures are entirely justified. It’s not just about materials and labor—it’s about reputation. Or, should I say, the lack thereof?” His smile widens as he leans forward. “Need I remind you of the failed trade routes in your territory?”

André stiffens, his jaw clenching.

Belard continues, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Those trade roads, funded by your late parents’ investments, have become a death trap. Cargo trucks hardly make it through; goods are stolen, and the drivers? Dead. Criminal raids have turned the route into a symbol of failure, Mayor. And your reputation with other territories? Let’s just say it’s less than stellar.”

André’s hand tightens into a fist on the armrest. “I’ve been working tirelessly to fix those trade routes. You know that as well as I do.”

“Yes, and look where that’s gotten you,” Belard says dramatically. “A money pit that’s swallowed any chance of profitability. The debts from that little endeavor still weigh heavily on your territory’s finances, don’t they?”

I feel André’s frustration, but Belard isn’t finished.

“And now, with this reconstruction contract?” Belard spreads his hands wide. “You’ve signed a legally binding agreement. Terminating it would cost you even more—penalties, lawsuits, the whole lot. The terms are set up to ensure you honor the agreement. And since I control the pricing, well…” His grin turns predatory. “Let’s cut to the chase. Either you pay the outlined price or risk being jailed for breach of contract. And let’s be honest—can your territory’s reputation afford any more failures? Your debts will only grow.”

I cannot believe what I am hearing. The contract sounds downright predatory, crafted to trap André in a financial stranglehold. Is something like this even legal? My fists clench as anger bubbles inside me. It is clear that André is on the losing side, and Belard knows it.

André takes a deep breath, his face composed despite the storm I know is brewing inside him. “This is extortion, Belard.”

“Call it what you like,” Belard replies with a shrug. “It’s business.”

Unable to listen anymore, I slip away quietly, heading toward the kitchen. The voices fade as I focus on Clark’s request for hot chocolate. But as I prepare it, the weight of what I have overheard stays with me.

As I stir the cocoa powder into the steaming milk, memories of my previous life come rushing back. My parents’ faces were worn with exhaustion, their voices tight with worry as they spoke about mounting debts. No matter how hard they worked or sacrificed, it was never enough. The suffocating weight of financial strain had been a constant shadow in my old life.

Now, here I am, seeing echoes of that same burden in this world. André and Celine aren’t truly my parents, but seeing André struggle against such predatory tactics tightens my chest. It feels too familiar, too raw.

I grip the spoon tighter, forcing myself to focus on the task.

“This isn’t the same,” I whisper, trying to convince myself. But the emotions churn inside me nonetheless.

Still, there is a sliver of hope. Maybe Célestin knows more about the Eñeforte family’s debts. If anyone can see through Belard’s schemes and find a solution, it is him. He’s regressed countless times—surely, he’s encountered this before.

I pull out my Commlink and quickly dial Célestin’s number. During the dinner, we exchanged numbers—a moment I am now immensely grateful for. After a few rings, his voice comes through, light and playful as ever.

“Sup, Dom—I mean, Clark?”

I glance around the kitchen to ensure no one can overhear me. Satisfied, I speak in a low, cautious tone. “Célestin, do you know anything about the debts of the Eñeforte family?”

There is a brief pause before he replies, his voice far too enthusiastic given the gravity of the topic. “Ah, the debts! Want me to eliminate Belard?”

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I nearly drop the Commlink. “Wait—what? No! Not yet, anyway! Just explain it to me first.”

Célestin laughs. “Alright, alright, no murder plans yet. Let’s start from the beginning. The trade routes in the Eñeforte territory—ever heard of them?”

I lean against the counter, nodding as though he can see me. “They were meant to make the territory prosper, right? Built by André’s parents?”

“Exactly. On paper, it was a brilliant investment,” Célestin says. “The idea was to create a network to make transporting goods efficient and profitable. But the reality? A disaster. And guess who oversaw the project? Belard—the human equivalent of a slimy slug wrapped in expensive fabric.”

I cannot help but snort. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Right? Belard’s not just your average shady businessman,” Célestin continues. “He’s a full-blown manipulator with a web of criminal connections. André’s parents signed a deal with him, thinking they were securing the family’s future. Instead, they walked straight into a trap.”

“Let me guess,” I interject. “The contract lets him set the prices.”

“Bingo!” Célestin exclaims. “But wait—it gets worse. There’s a hidden clause in the contract. It says if any ‘unexpected events’ occur on the trade routes, the Eñefortes must pay Belard whatever price he demands to fix the problem. And guess what? Belard used his criminal connections to stage those ‘unexpected events.’”

My grip on the Commlink tightens. “You mean… the raids?”

“Exactly,” Célestin says grimly. “Criminals ambushed the cargo trucks, killed drivers, and stole goods. Each incident made the trade routes more dangerous, and every time something happened, Belard swooped in with an outrageous bill for ‘repairs’ and ‘security measures.’ He’s bled the Eñefortes dry for years.”

I feel a wave of nausea at the thought. “So, every death, every stolen cargo—it was orchestrated?”

“Most likely,” Célestin confirms. “And the worst part? The contract not only binds André’s parents but also the entire Eñeforte family. That includes André, Celine, and technically… you.”

I freeze, the weight of his words sinking in. “...You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” Célestin says, his tone softening slightly. “The Eñefortes were set up to fail. Belard’s been exploiting them for decades. André’s been trying to fix the mess, but the debts just keep piling up.”

I exhale slowly, leaning heavily on the counter. This isn’t just a scam; it’s a masterclass in predatory tactics. And now, like Dominic, I am tangled in this web, too.

“Thanks for explaining,” I say finally. “I’ll figure out the next step.”

“How about we do it together, Clark?” Célestin suggests. “Belard isn’t just some scummy businessman. The criminal organization he’s connected to includes a [A+] Ranked Magician. Sure, Uncle André is listed as [SS] Ranked on paper, but that’s only because of the magic he ‘borrows’ from the entity within him. If he uses too much, he’ll lose control. You don’t want to push him into that.”

“Wait… André is a [SS] Ranked Magician?” I ask, stunned. “I didn’t know he was that strong!”

Célestin laughs. “Technically, he’s not. His true rank is closer to [A+], but his borrowed power from the entity bumped him up. The problem is, relying on that power is… dangerous, to say the least.”

I frown, leaning against the counter. “Wait. Why is he classified as [SS] Ranked if that's the case?”

“It’s because of the entity within him,” Célestin explains matter-of-factly. “He can ‘borrow’ its power in dire situations, which pushed his ranking so high. But there’s a catch.”

“Of course there is,” I mutter. “What happens if he uses too much of its power?”

“Let’s just say… things get messy. Messy. If he overuses it, the entity could take control. And when that happens, André would lose himself completely. That’s why he’s always so careful about how much power he taps into.”

I let that sink in, my mind racing. So, André’s strength came at a dangerous cost—one that might explain his occasional restraint and the careful way he carried himself.

“And another thing,” Célestin continues. “The contract with Belard has a clause that makes this even trickier. Any member of the Eñeforte family who kills Belard, or is even suspected of killing him, will trigger a clause that demands they pay all of their life savings to his estate. It’s basically a built-in death insurance policy for him.”

My jaw drops. “Are you serious? That’s… insane. How is that even enforceable?”

“Predatory contracts, Clark,” Célestin chirps. “Belard’s specialty. He’s smart enough to exploit every loophole and twist every term. It’s why the Eñefortes are in this mess to begin with.”

“But then why did you suggest killing him earlier?” I demand, my voice rising slightly.

“Oh, that’s simple!” Célestin’s tone turned mischievous. “Because I can get rid of the evidence. My family has more influence than his, and I can make things disappear. Hehehe!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Célestin… you’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you!” he says brightly.

I sigh, half in exasperation, half in reluctant gratitude. “Alright, we’ll figure this out together. No rash decisions, though.”

“No promises!” Célestin chimes, and I cannot help but shake my head at his unfaltering confidence.

At least now I have an ally—albeit a chaotic one.

“By the way,” Célestin says, his tone suddenly casual but laced with curiosity, “since you’re still Manaless, I guess you haven’t gotten all the artifacts for the Manaficial ritual yet?”

I hesitate for a moment before answering. “Actually, I’ve already gotten two of them. All that’s left is the Chalice of Merging in the Temple du Calice de Convergence.”

“Ah, I see…” Célestin replies, a thoughtful hum escaping him. Then, his tone shifts, bright and confident. “How about I accompany you to get it? Once we’ve got the Chalice, I’ll help you deal with Belard, too.”

I can’t help but smile at his offer. “Thanks, Célestin.”

“No problem!” he says cheerfully. “When do we start?”

I stroke my chin, considering the timing. “How about tomorrow? The sooner we get this done, the better.”

“Sure! Anything for my love!” Célestin replies, his voice exaggeratedly romantic.

“Pft! The hell?” I burst out, barely holding back a laugh.

“What?” he teases, feigning innocence. “You’re lucky I’m willing to drop everything for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, shaking my head but unable to suppress a grin. “Let’s just focus on the mission, Romeo.”

“Whatever you say, Juliet,” he quips back, laughing.

Even though his humor is ridiculous, I feel a little lighter knowing I won’t tackle this alone. With Célestin by my side, things are bound to get chaotic—but at least they won’t be boring.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I walk back to my bedroom, balancing the steaming mug of hot chocolate in my hands. The warmth from the mug radiates through my palms, a comforting contrast to the room's coolness as I open the door.

Clark is sitting on the edge of my bed, his legs swinging idly. His face lights up the moment he sees me. “Hot chocolate!” he exclaims, his excitement making me chuckle.

“Here you go,” I say, handing him the mug carefully. “Be careful—it’s hot.”

Clark takes the mug with both hands, his movements cautious but eager. “Thanks, big brother!” He takes a small sip, his eyes widening at the taste. “Mmm! This is so good!”

I sit down beside him, watching as he enjoys the treat. A smile creeps onto my face, unbidden but genuine. There’s something surreal about seeing Clark like this—a version of my younger self from my previous life. His innocence and enthusiasm… remind me of who I used to be before life’s hardships stripped that away.

But Clark has endured hardships, too. He’s experienced the crushing weight of his family’s debt in his old world, just as I had. He’s watched his parents struggle to make ends meet, shouldering the burden of financial strain at an age when he should have been carefree. It’s painful to think about, knowing how deeply those struggles have marked both of us.

“Clark,” I say softly, breaking the momentary silence.

He looks up at me, his brown eyes wide and curious. “Yes, big brother?”

I hesitate for a moment before speaking, my voice steady but serious. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”

Clark tilts his head slightly, his expression attentive. “What is it?”

I take a deep breath, my thoughts flashing back to my parents in my previous life—the way they tirelessly worked, sacrificed, and still were taken advantage of by predatory systems and manipulative people. Those memories stir something in me, a mixture of anger and resolve.

“Clark,” I begin, my tone firm but gentle, “not everyone in this world is nice. Some people will act friendly but take advantage of you when they can. They’ll manipulate you, use you, and take your money without a second thought.”

Clark frowns slightly, his innocence betrayed by the confusion in his eyes. “But… why, big brother? Why would people do that?”

I smile faintly, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “It’s because not everyone values kindness or fairness. Some people are only out for themselves. That’s why you have to be careful. You must understand the world, see through their lies, and stand up for what’s right.”

Clark nods slowly, taking in my words. “So… I shouldn’t trust everyone?”

“Not blindly,” I clarify. “But here’s the thing—you should always be kind. Kindness doesn’t mean letting people walk all over you. It means standing up for others, fighting against injustice, and doing what’s right, even when it’s hard.”

I lean in closer, my smile widening. “And when you come across those who try to take advantage of you or others… well, you beat their ass.”

Clark blinks, then bursts out laughing, nearly spilling his hot chocolate. “Big brother! That’s so mean!”

I laugh along with him, the tension from earlier easing. “Hey, sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. But remember, Clark—always fight for what’s right, not for revenge or anger. Promise me that?”

Clark’s grin softens into a determined expression, and he nods earnestly. “I promise, big brother.”

“Good,” I say, leaning back against the headboard as I watch him sip his hot chocolate again. For a moment, the memories of my past life fade, replaced by a quiet sense of hope.

Clark is here, and I will make sure he never faces the same struggles alone, and I will make sure to find a way to bring him back to his world.