In a dimly lit room tucked inside the outskirts of Legris City, Kaelene sat alone on a creaky wooden chair. Her legs bounced restlessly, eyes sharp with fury.
"Tch…" she hissed under her breath. "If only that bitch hadn't screamed…"
Her nails dug into the armrest as the memory replayed—Celeste's loud, piercing cry right before she had Vial under her control. She had been so close. Just a few seconds more and she could've disappeared with him. But instead…
Now she was empty-handed. And worse, she had failed again.
Her eyes burned with resentment. Celeste... that spineless, wide-eyed nobody. If I see her again—
The sudden vroom of a motorbike engine interrupted her spiraling thoughts. It roared closer and closer, the low hum vibrating through the concrete floor. Kaelene's body tensed. She stood up and moved quietly to the dusty window, pulling the curtains back just enough to peek through.
A flash of red.
A woman dismounted the red motorbike with effortless grace. She wore a skin-tight bodysuit that outlined every sharp curve of her figure. Crimson hair, long and slick, trailed behind her like a fire. Her aura screamed danger.
Kaelene's throat tightened.
Charlotte.
Of all people.
Even the usually cheeky and defiant Kaelene shrank back a step. Charlotte wasn't someone you disrespected, challenged, or even looked at wrong. She wasn't like Kaelene—reckless and mischievous. Charlotte was calculated, brutal, and loyal only to one person: their boss.
The door creaked open without a knock. Charlotte stepped inside like she owned the place.
Kaelene immediately sat down, her boldness dissolving into submission. She kept her head low, her posture meek, like a scolded pet.
Charlotte scoffed. "How pathetic."
Her voice was smooth and sharp like a dagger. She walked across the room slowly, her heels clicking on the floor.
"You had one job. One. You had people, sedatives, information—and you still failed. You're an embarrassment."
Kaelene clenched her fists on her lap, eyes still downcast. She said nothing.
Charlotte came closer. She raised one booted foot and placed it on the edge of the chair, beside Kaelene's thigh, looming over her like a shadow.
She reached down and grabbed Kaelene's face with one hand—her fingers digging cruelly into Kaelene's cheeks, squeezing them together. The pain flared immediately, her mouth twisted against the pressure.
Her eyes watered. Her cocky facade crumbled.
"You really fell apart, huh?" Charlotte sneered. "What a disappointment."
Kaelene trembled slightly under the force of her grip, but still didn't resist. She couldn't. No one fought back against Charlotte.
"How are you going to fix this mess?" Charlotte asked, her voice quieter now but even colder.
Kaelene struggled to speak, her voice muffled. Charlotte finally let go with a small shove.
Kaelene took a shaky breath, rubbing her cheek. "G-give me another chance," she said, desperate. "I promise I won't fail again."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "And if you do?"
Kaelene didn't hesitate. "Then I'll accept any punishment. I swear."
Charlotte looked down at her like she was some pathetic little thing crawling for scraps.
"Hmph. The boss told me to bring you back quietly," Charlotte muttered. "But maybe this works out better. She'll be coming to Legris soon. There's a meeting scheduled with the city overseer."
She turned to the window, staring at the neon-soaked city under the night sky.
"We'll take the male then."
Kaelene nodded. "His name is Vial."
Charlotte didn't reply. She leaned a hand on the windowframe, still staring into the distance. Her lips curled slightly, unreadable.
"Vial… huh…"
Kaelene swallowed hard. She didn't know what Charlotte was planning—but it couldn't be good. Charlotte wasn't known for obedience. And she never took personal interest in targets.
The Next Morning
Vial rose early.
The morning air was crisp and quiet. After freshening up, he slipped into a clean set of clothes and prepared himself mentally for another day at the training center. His body was still a little sore from yesterday, but nothing unbearable.
Soon after, the female guard from yesterday arrived at the front door. With a nod and a brief greeting, the two of them set off through the empty city streets. The sun had barely crested over the skyline.
They arrived at the training center. As expected, it was mostly empty.
Vial headed inside and into the changing room, swapping into the black and gray training uniform given to him. He stepped into the center of the facility, its walls tall and lined with digital sensors. The mats were clean, the air smelled like sterilized rubber.
He waited.
A few minutes passed before the familiar sound of bootsteps echoed through the hallway.
Rael entered, looking as sharp and unreadable as always.
"You're early," she said, giving him a side glance.
Vial smirked. "What can I say? Couldn't wait to see you."
Rael raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Flirting doesn't improve combat skills."
"Maybe not. But it makes the pain more bearable."
She walked past him toward the center ring. "Save the charm. You'll need your breath."
Vial chuckled. "So… no good morning kiss?"
Rael turned and shot him a glare. "Get into stance."
He sighed, then grinned.
The session had begun.
Rael didn't wait for the warm-up. She closed the distance between them in a flash, her boot swinging upward in a surprise kick.
But this time—Vial was ready.
He caught the movement from the corner of his eye and raised his forearm just in time, deflecting the blow. The impact still stung, but the adrenaline surged through him.
"I blocked it!" he said, stepping back with a wide grin. "I actually blocked it!"
Rael's eyes narrowed.
Big mistake.
Before he could bask any longer in his small victory, her other leg swept out, low and fast. It collided with his shin, knocking his balance out from under him. He crashed onto his back with a grunt.
"Dammit—! At least let me celebrate a little."
Rael dusted her gloves, expression flat. "In real combat, celebration gets you killed."
Vial groaned as he sat up, rubbing his tailbone. "Not even two seconds…"
"Get up."
He did. And this time, he went on the offensive.
With a focused breath, he lunged forward, throwing a controlled punch toward Rael's shoulder. She parried it, but he kept moving, delivering a sequence of jabs and kicks that forced her to react. Her eyes gleamed with calculated precision as she blocked, dodged, and twisted around his strikes.
But then—
He feinted left, and when she moved to counter, he pivoted right and grabbed her arm, attempting a throw.
Rael countered halfway through, slamming her weight into his side—and they both tumbled to the mat.
Thud.
Vial didn't let go.
The scuffle turned chaotic. Neither of them gave in as their limbs tangled, rolling across the floor. Rael tried to reverse their positions, but Vial held his ground. Her knee pressed into his ribs; his arm locked around her waist. Their breath grew heavier with each movement.
Roll. Shift. Grapple.
Eventually, Vial managed to get on top, pinning her shoulders with his forearms. He reached down to grab her uniform near the collar to stabilize the hold—
His hand slipped.
And landed directly on her breast.
His palm cupped it fully, fingers pressing into the firm softness beneath her tight-fitting training top.
Time stopped.
Rael's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat—and in that moment, despite all her stoicism and discipline, a soft, unmistakably feminine gasp escaped her lips.
It was subtle, barely audible. But Vial heard it.
A faint moan.
Time paused for a second. Vial froze in place, face turning pale.
"I—shit—I didn't mean to!" he blurted. "That was an accident! I swear!"
Rael's expression shifted fast. She didn't speak—just moved.
Her knee came up with brutal speed, slamming into Vial's side and launching him off her. He rolled across the mat with a gasp, coughing as he tried to catch his breath.
Rael stood up slowly, brushing her hair back into place.
"In combat," she said coldly, "there's no such thing as 'off-limits.' You don't get to pick what you touch when your life is on the line."
Vial coughed again, holding his ribs. "Could've told me that before you shattered my lungs…"
Rael turned her back on him and walked toward the center again. "If you can't handle contact, you're not ready."
Vial sat up, wincing but grinning. "So you're saying it was fair game?"
She paused.
"...Don't push it."
He chuckled to himself, even through the pain. It wasn't just the fight getting more intense—Rael was lowering her walls. Just a little.
But that voice she made… that reaction…
Vial glanced at her with new curiosity. Was that embarrassment? Or was she caught off guard by herself, too?
Whatever it was, she was back to her usual self now—composed, silent, and ready to break his bones again.
Vial got to his feet slowly, shaking out his shoulders. "Alright, Sensei Rael. Round two?"
She cracked her knuckles without looking back.
"This time, don't miss on purpose."