Just an ordinary person

Night.

On the bustling city streets below, traffic flowed like a river, lights shimmering in a cascade of colors.

But atop the high-rise, there was only the slightly cool night breeze and a hazy veil of moonlight.

Hearing the disdainful female voice behind him, the suited man turned around. The melancholy on his face had already vanished with the night wind, replaced by a handsome smile.

The man had short, tousled black hair and well-proportioned features. With the deliberately feigned friendly smile he wore now, he might as well have had "kept man" stamped on his forehead.

"Kane, that smile of yours makes me sick."

Looking at the fake grin on the man's face, the woman who had just stepped through the door made no effort to hide her disgust.

She had a wild mane of wavy red hair, wore no makeup, and was dressed in a thin tank top paired with ultra-short hot pants, showing no concern for the large swaths of skin exposed to the air.

More precisely—

Muscle.

The man she called Kane shrugged at her words and smiled. "Sivir, you can't just show your true feelings whenever you want. That's basic social etiquette."

"That's called hypocrisy."

Sivir snorted coldly with contempt.

Kane didn't argue. Instead, he held up his phone and waved it at her twice, smiling. "Genbul hit the 'jackpot' over there."

"Oh? Good news."

Sivir raised an eyebrow, strode over to stand beside Kane, and asked, "So, are we waiting for him on this operation?"

"Of course we are. More people, more security."

Kane smiled as he put his phone away, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He flipped it open, shook one out, and held it between his fingers, speaking seriously. "More importantly, he didn't 'advance' much gambling credit this time. Shouldn't take too long."

"Tch. Why does Genbul have to have such a troublesome ability? I'll never get it..."

Sivir put her hands on her hips, falling into her usual habit of complaining about Genbul's power.

Kane lit his cigarette, glanced at her, and chuckled. "Genbul's luck isn't bad this time. Only took a few rolls to hit the jackpot. If he chooses to 'cash in the chips,' the 'Qi' he gets from cashing out will easily let him pay back the advanced credit, and he'll still have enough leftover 'Qi' to punch you into paste. That's the beauty of troublesome abilities."

"Punch me into paste? Who do you think you're looking down on?"

Sivir turned her head to stare at Kane. Her entire aura surged, radiating a heavy, oppressive pressure. She looked like a beast about to devour flesh and blood.

Kane kept his elegant smile and made a suggestion. "If you want to test my claim, it's not too late to call Genbul now. Tell him not to choose 'cash in for what he wants,' but to choose 'cash in the chips.'"

"..."

Sivir said nothing, just glared fiercely at Kane.

Kane was completely unfazed, calmly smoking his cigarette.

A moment later.

Sivir retracted her aura and said coldly, "I'm not like some people. I won't let 'personal needs' affect the mission's progress."

"Mhm. Very admirable."

Kane smiled at Sivir.

His utterly carefree expression made the veins on Sivir's forehead throb.

"Creak—"

The iron door on the rooftop suddenly swung open.

A young couple, arms wrapped around each other, stepped out. When they saw Kane and Sivir, they instinctively stopped.

The young girl whispered, "There are people here. Let's find another spot."

"Fine."

The young boy sounded reluctant, thinking to himself how hard it was to find a free place.

He held his girlfriend's arm and was about to turn back toward the iron door.

"Schlorp—"

The moment he turned, a strange sound suddenly rang out beside his ear, and a large amount of sticky liquid splattered over him.

"Huh?!"

The young boy stared blankly at the severed arm still cradled in his elbow, as if he hadn't yet processed what had just happened.

Then, A violent force slammed into him.

"Schlorp!"

The young boy's body burst apart, scattering into a mess of flesh and blood.

By the railing of the rooftop.

Kane pressed his palm to his forehead, looking somewhat helplessly at Sivir, who had just turned the young couple into a smear of gore.

He thought this kind of behavior was completely unnecessary.

Seeming able to extract information from that gaze directed his way, Sivir stood before the iron gate and looked back at Ken, her tone unfriendly. "What? Got a problem?"

"No problem. Just think it's unnecessary, and it might stir up trouble."

Ken tilted his head back slightly, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"Tch."

Sivir strode toward the iron gate, leaving behind a contemptuous remark.

"They're just two ordinary people you'd see anywhere."

"..."

Ken watched Sivir leave, flicking the cigarette butt away with a snap of his fingers.

"I don't agree with what you just did, but that line... is the most sensible thing you've said all night."

--

The next morning, at daybreak.

Moyu woke on time, driven by his internal clock.

Last night, he'd spent two hours practicing punches and kicks against the Shadow Person training post. Whether his physical skills had improved, Moyu didn't know, but the pain was real enough...

Tempering "pain tolerance" was inherently a gradual process. He felt he'd been a bit too eager for quick results.

Fortunately, as long as he closed his aura nodes and entered the state of Zetsu, the "agony" accumulated during training would quickly fade.

At least for now, Moyu could endure it and was willing to keep pushing forward.

Otherwise, if he ever ended up whimpering on the ground, clutching his head and rolling around after taking a punch, that would be ridiculous.

Moyu got up, washed up briefly, then headed straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

He tossed the blanched meat into an iron pot, added rice and enough water, controlled the amount of firewood, then picked up a broom to clean.

Cheadle also rose early. Seeing Moyu sweeping, she greeted him and voluntarily lent a hand.

Holding to the notion that guests came first, Moyu didn't want Cheadle to help clean, but he couldn't talk her out of her insistence, so he let it go.

With Cheadle's kind assistance, the time it took to clean the Temple actually grew longer.

Not because Cheadle didn't know how to clean, but because she was too particular about spotlessness...

By the time the two finished cleaning, the meat porridge in the kitchen was just about ready.

Moyu added a pinch of salt for seasoning, then took the pot off the stove and carried the porridge out.

"Aren't you opening the gate?"

After finishing the meat porridge Moyu had prepared, Cheadle looked toward the closed Temple gate.

Moyu lowered his head to gather the bowls and chopsticks, explaining, "I'm not good at dealing with visitors, so until Hawk comes back, I usually choose to keep the Temple closed."

"But if someone comes, you'd still open the door, wouldn't you?"

Cheadle withdrew her gaze from the gate and turned to look at Moyu, asking with implication.

She could guess the reason Moyu chose to close the Temple. Maybe being bad with visitors was one reason, but more than that, it was to focus on training in peace.

"It depends."

Moyu replied casually, picking up the bowls and chopsticks as he stood.

He had barely taken a step when a knock sounded at the gate.

Cheadle propped her cheek on her hand, showing no surprise at all, as if she'd known someone would knock.

Moyu, however, just glanced at the gate, ignored the knocking, and walked straight toward the kitchen.