The atmosphere grew tense once again as Al prepared to put an end to this pointless conflict.
He stepped forward, passing Rina and Johan, who were both in a guarded stance. Their knees bent slightly, shoulders taut like loaded springs, eyes locked on Al’s every step. His movements seemed casual, yet carried a sense of unwavering resolve.
"Let me handle this. You two should rest," he said calmly.
Both of them looked bewildered. Unfortunately, they had no idea that Al was actually quite skilled in combat.
"Al, don’t joke around—this isn’t a game," Rina snapped, brows furrowing as her fists clenched unconsciously at her sides.
"What do you mean? Bro, you don’t understand how dangerous this is. This isn’t an ordinary fight," Johan added, bewildered. He sensed Al had no magical energy whatsoever. "So please, step aside."
But their confusion wasn’t shared by Egen. He knew Al could fight—and though he was unsure whether Al possessed internal energy, a seed of doubt crept in. Could Al actually defeat him?
"So, you’re the one stepping up," Egen rumbled, his deep voice heavy with intimidation. His jaw tightened, fists clenching until veins stood out along his forearms.
"Al, move aside," Rina interjected, trying to block him.
Al simply looked at her and patted her shoulder.
"Relax. This is nothing to me. Besides, this started because of me—so let me finish it," he said evenly. His eyes were calm yet cold, radiating a confidence that was difficult to explain. Then, turning toward Egen, he cracked his knuckles deliberately.
"I told you to step aside. Don’t mess around here, Al!" Rina snapped angrily, tugging at his shirt. But strangely, his body felt immovable, solid. In her frustration, she failed to notice just how unshakable he had become.
Johan, meanwhile, stood frozen, unable to make sense of the situation. What unsettled him even more was Egen’s expression—it was far more serious now, facing Al, than when he’d fought Rina. Yet, when Johan scanned Al for any trace of energy, there was nothing. Even without using his internal energy, Egen’s massive physique alone should be more than enough to crush Rina’s fragile friend.
Al rolled his neck, twisted his waist, and stretched his arms, as though warming up. The sounds of joints cracking and muscles tightening filled the air, sharpening the tension—like a predator shedding its laziness to reveal its true form.
"Let’s end this," he said firmly.
"Al!" Rina’s voice broke again, her eyes tinged red from a storm of anger and fear.
But Al brushed free of her grip effortlessly and stepped forward. He prepared to fight in his purely human mode—or more precisely, the mode of a mercilessly normal man. It was enough for now, since releasing magical energy in public would be far too dangerous, especially when he was still under suspicion as a DIAR by the World Magic Association.
Egen squared up, legs wide, knees bent, shoulders hunched forward. The raw physical pressure alone made onlookers swallow hard.
Al’s expression shifted—his eyes growing colder, more ruthless. His face transformed into that of a predator, void of emotion, like a psychopath ready to kill. A killing technique without any visible killing intent. It was the opposite of the lazy, harmless facade he usually wore in everyday life.
The air itself seemed to chill. Even Rina, who had been furious moments before, suddenly felt compelled to let him be—though she couldn’t explain why.
Egen, too, sensed the abnormality. For some reason, fear rose within him—greater than anything he had felt before. Cold sweat trickled down his temple despite his massive, muscled frame.
Al smiled faintly, eyes narrowing. A faint red gleam flickered at the edge of his vision. He lowered his shoulder, feet sliding against the ground, ready to pounce at any second.
He froze, halted by a small white creature darting toward him.
A white cat with a fluffy golden-gray tail sprinted forward, leapt up, and clambered onto his shoulder with tiny claws. It meowed softly, rubbing its head against his cheek and chin, as if it only wanted to play. The gentle mew shattered the suffocating tension like glass.
Everyone froze in confusion—Al, Rina, Johan, and even Egen.
Al glanced sideways. "Huh? A cat?"
A sense of familiarity tugged at him, though he couldn’t place where he had seen it before.
Rina and Johan exchanged baffled looks. This absurd interruption made no sense. Even Egen, ready to strike, faltered. Why was there suddenly a cat here?
Al lifted the cat off his shoulder, holding it up before his face. It meowed again, tiny claws flexing, tail swaying gently, utterly content.
He studied it closely—a young cat, not quite a kitten anymore. He was certain he had seen it somewhere before.
The crushing tension had dissolved, replaced by an oddly neutral scene—thanks to the cute little creature perched in Al’s arms.
Some of the bystanders even smiled or chuckled softly, the deadly atmosphere evaporating as though it had never existed.
But Gerald, standing nearby, scowled in irritation. He quickly ordered Egen to attack the three youths.
Egen nodded, stomping forward with his internal strength. His step struck the ground so hard cracks spread beneath his feet.
Rina and Johan instantly dashed ahead, shielding Al, ready to fight.
At that moment, Al finally realized who the cat was. The recognition brought him a flicker of joy—yet before he could dwell on it, his attention was yanked away. His eyes widened, not at Rina or Johan’s movements, but—
A burst of energy exploded outward, throwing up clouds of dust. The ground trembled, nearby windows rattled violently, and the crowd screamed in panic.
Everyone—Rina, Johan, Gerald, even Mona—stared in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Egen, however, had been hurled backward, smashing into a parked car. His left arm bore a gruesome wound, as though it had been ripped open.
He lifted his head, grimacing—only to see a man standing before him.
A broad, muscular figure, short-cropped black hair streaked with yellow, dressed in a snug black t-shirt that showed off his build, dark green cargo pants, and heavy black boots. He radiated the air of an off-duty soldier, but his eyes were sharp, piercing, like those of a merciless drill instructor.
From the crowd, two more figures emerged.
The first was a young man with a lean yet agile build, like an athlete accustomed to fast, precise movements. He wore casual gray-toned clothes: a lightweight jacket with a half-open collar, a black t-shirt underneath, and fitted jeans. His black hair was slightly tousled, giving him a natural, effortless look.
Beside him walked a beautiful young woman, around her early twenties, with an aura of effortless elegance. Her wavy brown hair cascaded down her back, catching the glow of the streetlights. Stylish clear glasses rested atop her head, blending modern charm with quiet sophistication. She wore a crisp white blouse tucked into a cream-colored skirt that fell just above her knees, paired with simple flats that only amplified her natural grace. Her warm brown eyes shone with calm authority—so compelling that anyone who met them would instinctively want to follow her lead.
Her arrival drew every gaze at once. Some onlookers even held their breath unconsciously, as though a goddess had just descended to earth.
The very air shifted around her—lighter, calmer, yet infused with reverence. The crowd’s noise softened, fading into silence, as though her presence alone commanded the atmosphere without a single word.
Gerald stiffened the moment he saw them, recognition flashing across his face.
"You..." he muttered, startled. Discover more novels at novel{f}ire.net
Meanwhile, Al gently set the cat atop his head and looked toward the woman.
She met his gaze and raised a hand in a small, casual wave.
Their eyes locked—like long-lost friends reunited after years apart.
Rina and Johan exchanged bewildered glances. Nothing made sense anymore: the cat, the sudden newcomers, the strange connection between Al and the woman. Were these three allies or enemies? And what was the true nature of Al’s bond with her?