Thrust

At dawn, the temperature on Alcatraz Island fell to its lowest point.

The changing tide filled the rocky cavern with damp air, making it even colder than outside.

Even the members of the Dark Star Society had to build two campfires to keep warm.

They had just fought off attackers twice in succession, and every one of them looked exhausted.

Ordinarily, they would have regarded those attackers as insects they could crush with a hand.

But enough ants could bring down an elephant!

And those attackers were no ants.

Each of them possessed abilities ordinary people would have found incredible.

When so many gathered together, even those present could not afford to underestimate them.

Because they knew their own situation all too well.

After following Hostdier, they could probably no longer count on their standing as members of the Dark Star Society.

They were under attack now, with no reinforcements in sight.

Worse, they could be attacked by Sdick or Nikelei, the "West Coast's Strongest Medium," at any moment. The thought weighed heavily on them.

Firelight flickered across their faces. Every expression was as grim as the thoughts behind it.

One man, however, was different.

Hostdier!

As their leader, Hostdier sat calmly beside the fire.

He seemed entirely untroubled by their predicament.

His gaze passed over his subordinates.

He could see the weight on their faces as clearly as he felt it himself.

Gilfen Hetch's failure to return and the greedy attackers' renewed assault both irritated Hostdier.

But he knew

he had to remain calm.

Otherwise, the subordinates he had worked so hard to gather might do something unfortunate—something they never should have done.

He knew exactly how much pressure Sdick and Nikelei put on them.

Under that kind of pressure, one wrong move could make them turn on him.