The green vortex of energy hummed as it mercilessly swallowed Art's distorted body.
His limbs stretched into noodles, and his painted smile smeared into a ridiculous scrawl. He shrank toward the center of the spiral until the tiny mouth of the glass bottle sucked him in whole.
Bzz—
The last black-and-white blur vanished into the bottle, and the green vortex disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared. The warehouse fell deathly silent again, save for the two girls' ragged, stifled breathing by the door.
Edward did not hesitate. He knew trapping Art was only the first step.
He used Telekinesis. A palm-sized piece of metal tore free from the dented side of a nearby shipping container and hovered in midair.
Under his will, the metal twisted and folded into a snug-fitting cap. With a click, it clamped tight over the soda bottle's mouth.
That still was not enough.
To make absolutely sure, Edward raised his index finger. A faint Purifying Light glowed at its tip, and with the bottle cap as his canvas and the air as his ink, he swiftly traced a complex rune that shimmered gold.
As soon as he finished it, the rune imprinted itself on the metal cap. Its light flashed once, then vanished.
Only then did Edward bend down and pick up the glass bottle.
It felt icy in his hand, as though it held a chunk of polar ice rather than a clown.
He gave the bottle a shake. Inside was a palm-sized, chibi version of Art, the Soul-Severing Clown.
Miniature Art retained every detail, but his signature smile was gone. In its place was silent fury.
He pounded the clear glass with his tiny, out-of-proportion fists. Every blow landed as though on cotton—soundless and utterly unable to budge the bottle.
Realizing physical attacks were useless, he dissolved with a poof into a cloud of black-and-white gas. It swirled and battered against the cramped interior, searching desperately for a gap. But when it struck the cap, an invisible golden rune flared and hurled it back.
The gas gathered into a miniature clown again. Art fell to the bottom of the bottle and looked up blankly at the power in the cap, a power that filled him with revulsion and fear.
Then he raised his head farther and stared through the glass at Edward with his hollow eyes.
Edward lifted the bottle to eye level and met miniature Art's gaze, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
"Take some time to reflect in there, little guy."
He flicked the bottle with a finger. It rang with a crisp tink.
The jolt made miniature Art stumble, his face twisting into an even more human expression of anger.
Once he was sure the seal would hold, Edward willed the glass bottle to vanish from his hand and stored it in his system inventory.
With the biggest problem dealt with, Edward turned toward the warehouse door.
Tara and Dewen, who had narrowly escaped death, stared at him as though he were a god.
Their bodies still trembled with fear, but their eyes brimmed with gratitude and awe beyond words.
When Edward approached, Tara struggled to her feet. She pulled Dewen along, and they stumbled over to him, so overwhelmed that Tara could barely get her words out.
"Thank you! Really, thank you for saving us! I... we don't know how to thank you!" Tara's voice broke. She had never experienced anything so terrifying, nor had she ever imagined being saved like this.
Dewen clung to Tara's arm and nodded frantically at Edward, tears streaming down her face.
She had been one step from death. The despair of hanging upside down and watching the bone saw inch closer would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Edward looked at them and waved a hand, his tone as matter-of-fact as if he were discussing something trivial. "No need to thank me. Like I said, I was just interested in that clown."
His gaze drifted to Dewen.
She had lost her clothes while hanging upside down. Now she huddled behind Tara, barely covering herself. In the dim warehouse light, she looked especially miserable and vulnerable.
Edward turned to Tara and said in an odd tone, "Also, you might want to find your friend something to wear. Running around naked isn't exactly decent."
"Huh?" Tara froze, then blushed as she finally noticed her friend's predicament.
She hurriedly took off her jacket and draped it over Dewen, then thanked Edward again, looking a little embarrassed.
Edward merely shrugged. He had saved them partly because it was convenient, and partly because there was something unusual about Art that intrigued him.
He was no bleeding heart, and he had no interest in comforting two frightened girls.
"The police will be here soon. You can explain it to them." With that, Edward left them and headed straight out of the warehouse.
"Wait!" Tara called. "We don't even know your name!"
Edward did not slow down. He only waved without looking back, his answer drifting over his shoulder.
"Red Scarf."
Outside the blood-scented warehouse, the night breeze felt especially refreshing.
Edward snapped his fingers in the silence.
Bzz—
With a faint ripple in space, a fearsome black heavy motorcycle appeared out of thin air on the open ground before him, its design brimming with futuristic technology.
Its sleek, muscular lines and the cold metallic gleam of its body made Tara and Dewen, who had just followed him out, stare wide-eyed once more. Their mouths hung open.
What was that? Magic?
Edward swung a long leg over the Fenrir Heavy Motorcycle and settled into the driver's seat. He put on his helmet, gripped the handlebars, and gave the throttle a gentle twist.
Vroom—!!
The engine answered with a deep growl, like a beast awakening—a sound that suited its appearance perfectly. It echoed through the deserted industrial district.
Edward did not spare the girls another glance. He shifted gears and released the clutch.
The Fenrir Heavy Motorcycle shot forward like an arrow from a bow, its rear tire leaving a faint mark on the ground.
Before the girls' stunned eyes, that black streak of lightning cut through the night. Its taillight drew a brilliant red trail through the darkness, and soon both it and the engine's savage roar disappeared into the distance.
A long while later, Tara swallowed hard. Looking in the direction Edward had gone, she murmured, "Did we... just meet a superhero?"
Dewen pulled the jacket tighter around herself. She looked at the wrecked warehouse, then at the empty night. Deep fear still lingered in her eyes, but stronger than that was an indescribable, dreamlike sense that none of it had been real.
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