Calling Alex interesting was not about his personality. Rather, Angel had discovered that Alex possessed a very peculiar aura. If auras were compared to halos, everyone else was shrouded in a dim gray layer, while Alex shone as brightly and dazzlingly as sunlight.
Since the only power Angel could use now was illusion, he could not immediately tell why Alex possessed an aura so utterly different from everyone else's.
Angel simply began observing Alex.
During his observations, Angel also noticed that Alex seemed able to see him. When other people's gazes swept past him, the obscuring illusion prevented them from noticing anything. But when Alex's gaze passed over him, although he concealed it well, the minute reaction of his pupils still betrayed him.
Could this Alex be a transcendent? Yet he did not quite seem like one.
Angel had thought Alex would keep pretending not to see him, but once everyone in the chapel had left, he unexpectedly took the initiative to strike up a conversation.
"Are you a ghost?" Alex asked again.
Angel watched Alex. This white-haired youth, who looked only sixteen or seventeen, showed no other emotion when facing him—no fear, no surprise, only pure curiosity.
If he had been a four- or five-year-old child, innocent and ignorant of the world, that would have been one thing. But Alex was clearly a deeply thoughtful person, yet his thoughts were not focused on others, but on himself.
He held an attitude of "it matters not whether things exist or do not exist" toward external things, even other people.
For Angel's appearance to stir even a trace of curiosity in him was already no easy feat.
"Have you seen a ghost before?" Angel asked in return.
"Then it seems you are not a ghost," Alex said with great certainty.
"Your