He handed over the tool to Kayle, then turned away with an air of indifference, his steps unhurried—casual enough to avoid drawing suspicion.

“…?” Both Kayle and Smith watched him leave, confused.

Nur turned towards Smith and asked, “So, what’s the problem? Did you find it, Uncle Rek?”

“Yeah, it’s the usual.”

“Isn’t it strange how our water supply stops like this frequently?”

Mr. Smith didn’t reply immediately, his hesitation palpable.

“Well, I wonder about that. You should ask the village chief. He might know something.” Mr. Smith’s voice was calm, though tinged with hesitation.

“….”

A shadow of a man appeared at the front entrance. Faint voices of people working in the back could be heard. Nur stood in front of the door, raising his hands to open it. He tried to twist the handle and push with as little sound as possible.

“It’s closed!”

He didn’t try to force the door open. That would alert everyone, and he wouldn’t be able to check his suspicion.

Slowly, he moved to the left side of the house, near the window, where Kayle’s grandmother slept.

He peered through the window, but he could barely see her lying there.

“… Was she anesthetized? Where’s the doctor?” Nur wondered, his mind racing in confusion.

He couldn’t see clearly through the window, the sun’s reflection obstructing his view. There were many reasons he didn’t want to cause a fuss.

Nur was someone who always thought things through, never asking for help unless absolutely necessary. As he debated his next move, a new idea began to form.

Inside, everything appeared to have been rearranged and tossed around. Clothes and books lay scattered under the bed, racks displaced—someone had clearly searched through everything in a hurry.

Yet, Grandmother slept peacefully on the bed.

Thud!

A sound came from the roof—at least, it seemed to be from the roof.

Leynard, on his knees, rummaged through a box full of books and random items. The noise startled him, but he dismissed it, assuming it was just the workers outside.

He stood up, losing hope. With a sigh, he turned toward the last shelf—the one he had saved for last, convinced that what he was searching for wouldn’t be there.

But then, his eyes landed on a leather-bound book nestled among the dark wooden shelves. He stepped closer, reaching out to grab it.

Grasp!

“…?”

A firm grip suddenly wrapped around Leynard’s wrist, preventing him from moving his hand. His expression remained unreadable.

The man he had seen earlier—someone he hadn’t been informed of—had become an unexpected variable.

“What are you doing!?” Nur demanded. “Are doctors these days not getting paid enough that you’re resorting to thievery?”

Leynard didn’t answer. His fist clenched—then drove into Nur’s stomach.

“Ugh!” Nur gasped as the impact knocked the air out of his lungs.

His grip on Leynard’s wrist loosened. Taking the chance, Leynard yanked his arm free and leaped backward, putting distance between them.

Nur staggered, his knees wobbling. He hadn’t fought in a long time, and his body wasn’t in any condition for a brawl. But he refused to let Leynard see his weakness.

Leynard remained silent, eyes narrowing. Then he lunged again, fist swinging.

Nur reacted on instinct, stepping aside at the last moment. The punch barely missed him.

Leynard’s brows twitched. He hadn’t expected Nur to dodge. He immediately leaped backward again, this time on guard.

Bang!

Someone knocked on the front door.

“Hey, Doctor Leynard! What’s going on in there?”

It was Mr. Smith, They must have heard the commotion.

Leynard’s eyes flicked toward the door, irritation flashing across his face. His time was running out. He needed to move quickly.

Without hesitation, he pulled out a small vial—its contents a shimmering, light-blue liquid. He popped the wooden cap off and downed it in one gulp.

The moment he swallowed, his body flickered.

In an instant—he vanished from Nur’s sight.

Before Nur could react, Leynard reappeared right in front of him.

Bam!

A fist struck Nur’s cheeks, much harder than before.

The force sent him flying into the wall. His back slammed against the wooden frame, pain exploding through his body.

Adrenaline kicked in.

Nur pushed himself off the wall and charged, fist swinging.

Leynard moved effortlessly, dodging with ease.

BANG!

The door burst open.

Mr. Smith stood there, wide-eyed at the scene inside. Behind him, Kayle peeked in, his face pale with shock.

“What’s going on here?!” Smith demanded.

“Brother Nur!” Kayle gasped, taking in the wrecked room. His voice was laced with worry.

Nur clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand upright. If Leynard turned on them, things would get worse. He had to end this—fast.

He lunged again, fist raised.

Leynard jumped back—right near where Kayle’s grandmother lay unconscious.

From inside the robe, he pulled out a small metallic object.

With a flick, it extended—transforming into a sharp black knife.

He pressed it against the elderly woman’s neck.

“Halt,” Leynard said, his voice dangerously calm. “Or she dies.”

Everyone froze.

Except Kayle.

The moment he saw the blade near his grandmother, he stepped forward, putting himself between her and danger. His small hands trembled. His voice wavered.

“Please… don’t hurt Grandma…” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

Nur’s jaw clenched. His mind raced.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Leynard chuckled. “That’s a better question.” His grip on the knife didn’t waver. “First, tell me—who are you? You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Answer me first,” Nur snapped. “And she hasn’t done anything wrong. If you’re angry at me, then come at me. Let’s take this outside. Don’t involve them.”

Leynard’s grin widened.

“No. My business is with her.” He nodded toward the old woman. “The book. The one containing records of the Heroes… and the King in Black.”

His eyes gleamed.

“Hand it over.”

“…We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nur said.

“Hahaha!” Leynard chuckled. “Tell me, kid, where is it?” He pointed the knife toward Kayle. “I’ll let you all go if you hand it over.”

He took out a scroll and unfurled it.

“Or else, I’ll use this exploding scroll.”

Smith, upon seeing the scroll, went pale, his face tightening with unease. He knew what would happen if that thing was used here.

That scroll… explode? What the hell is this insane guy talking about?! And the book—

“Don’t,” Smith spoke out, his voice tense.

“Hahaha. How about we take this slowly?” Leynard’s voice was almost playful. “Actually, we have no idea what you’re talking about or what you want, so why don’t we handle this like civilized people?”

Smith tried to keep his composure, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.

“Now, now—”

“Okay! We’ll give you what you want,” Nur suddenly said.

Leynard’s gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing.

“Oh? So you’ve decided.”

Nur slowly raised his hands, pointing toward the shelf. A black leather-bound book rested there.

If this is the book he’s talking about, the one he was about to take earlier… then that must be it.

I don’t know what significance it holds to them, but I can’t leave it like this. I need to do something, or everyone here will die. He’s carrying a bomb and… he has insane power—like those people. I don’t have anything like that.

This is for the better.

“That book… named Th…The Divi…ne…s jour”

“…”

Damn! Who named this book? I can’t even read it clearly from this distance.

“You can take it—”

Before Nur could finish, Leynard vanished.

Nur’s instincts screamed.

Before Leynard could reappear at the shelf to grab the book, Nur moved.

He lunged, trying to grab him whole, but Leynard was too fast, leaving behind only a shadow.

The next instant, the book was already in Leynard’s hands. He reappeared in the middle of the hall, standing between Smith, Kayle, and Nur.

To his right was the exit, where Smith and Kayle stood. To his left, near the shelf, was Nur.

Leynard grinned, looking down at the book.

“This is the one. A black leather cover…” His grin widened in satisfaction.

As he was about to turn toward the entrance—

Bam!

Nur, putting everything he had into his fist, swung.

His punch connected squarely with Leynard’s face, sending him flying out the entrance past Smith and Kayle.

Everyone froze, stunned by the sudden attack.

Nur’s legs wobbled beneath him. His vision blurred, and pain shot up his right arm. His fist throbbed, hanging limply at his side. His left hand weakly gripped his elbow, trying to steady himself.

Leynard pushed himself up from where he had been lying, wiping away the trickle of blood escaping his lips. It seemed he had exhausted his power after that last move.

“Haha… that was unexpected,” he remarked, catching his breath.

As expected.

He reached into his coat and pulled out another vial—this one darker Blue. Without hesitation, he uncorked it and downed the liquid in one gulp, the glass bottle slipping from his fingers and shattering on the ground.

“Well, thank you for your hospitality,” he said with a slight bow, pressing a hand to his stomach like a gentleman.

Then—just like before—he vanished.

Silence hung thick in the air.

Everyone remained tense, eyes darting around, half-expecting him to strike again.

But nothing came.

“…”

“…What the hell just happened?!”