Before the entanglement revealed itself, the night appeared harmless….nothing more than golden lights, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The restaurant came alive, more vibrant than it had ever been before.

The golden lights, usually dim and inviting, now burned with the same fervor that lived within the examinees’ veins.

Tables were packed close, shoulders practically touching, and the leather booths were now filled with hearty laughter, cheering, and the clinking of glasses raised high in salute.

They had passed.

The first phase was now behind them, the brutal test that had culled so many.

“Another round!” someone bellowed from near the bar, and the bartender, who had likely never seen this many people in one place, grinned as if caught in their tide. Bottles gleamed as fresh drinks were poured, candles flickered wildly under the thunder of applause when one group broke into a toast.

“To not dying!” a young woman declared, raising her glass, and her table roared with laughter.

“To being better than the bastards who didn’t make it!” someone else shouted from across the room, earning boos and cheers in equal measure.

Even the silent ones, those who had fought like demons in solitude during the exam, were ensnared by the revelry. A few leaned back, watching with a quiet smile, letting themselves exhale, for the first time in days.

With each beat of laughter and clink of glasses, they seemed to shed their solitude, like a snake shedding its skin. The golden haze in the air was not just lantern light, but the glimmer of camaraderie.

The hall roared with laughter, the kind that rose and fell like tides, though to Lev it sounded more like gulls shrieking over scraps. Humans celebrated as if victory was an end, as if one triumph earned them the right to forget the shadow of the next trial. He watched them, bemused.

Even the solitary figures, the ones who had carved through the illusions in silence, were dragged into the glow. Some smiled faintly, some exhaled for the first time in days. For tonight, they were human again, not prey in a cage.

The hall throbbed with joy. It rose, it crashed, it swelled again.

To Lev, it sounded less like celebration and more like carrion birds circling the scraps of the fallen.

He leaned in his corner, expression flat but lips curving just enough to betray his amusement. Victory? For the first phase? Among monsters, such a thing was unthinkable. No beast of the deep sang after its opening strike. No leviathan feasted simply for floating another day. Survival was not triumph. It was the tax you paid to still exist.

And yet, here they were.

Humans, so fragile they could break on their own heartbeat, still laughing.

Still raising their glasses to the pause between storms, as if joy itself might delay the next catastrophe.

Lev almost laughed himself.

Fragile. Foolish.

But bold, in a way that made him curious.

“Ah. I’m glad we passed,” Juho sighed dramatically, like they’d just survived the apocalypse.

Juho, that cheerful seatmate of his, casually leaned his head on Lev’s shoulder, acting as if they’d been pals since day 1.

Lev flicked a glance at him. No words. Just that look that translated to why are you on me and why are you breathing.

Juho beamed anyway.

He and Matthew shared the same uncanny personality that it’s baffling.

Aris drained her cocktail in one gulp, her expression tight. “I should’ve known it was an illusion from the start. He literally said weapons were optional.”

Lev, Juho, and Aris were sitting in the same booth, all ranked B.

Competitive to a fault, Aris was seething that she only got a B rank. She cursed under her breath.

“Don’t worry,” Juho soothed, grin broadening. “You’ve still got another chance to up your rank.”

Aris couldn’t roll her eyes any harder. Chatty cathy types were her pet peeve, which is why she’d chosen the rear of the classroom on day one. Fortunately for her nerves, the one who ended up next to her wasn’t much of a talker either.

Her gaze drifted to Lev. Aris had a knack for reading people, and from the very start she had been certain he’d come out with Rank A. There was a sharpness beneath his quiet exterior, a calculating edge that hadn’t escaped her notice. She’d been watching him since day one and clearly, Matthew had seen the same thing when he made Lev vice captain of Team Emerald. Getting closer to him might not be a bad move.

Lev, meanwhile, was occupied with the strange drink in front of him. It fizzed in a way that made him think of pond scum. He wondered if humans were supposed to enjoy poisoning themselves slowly.

Then another arm snaked around his waist.

“Hello there! Let me borrow him for a while.”

Lev didn’t even need to look. The shameless energy was its own signature. Matthew. Of course. Lev sighed like the weight of humanity’s stupidity rested solely on him.

Before he could object, Matthew whisked him toward the captains’ table.

“Hello,” Lev said flatly, dipping his head just enough to be polite.

The table lit up.

“Hi!”

“Woah, he’s good-looking.”

“Mayor’s son? Gotta be.”

Lev heard it all. He kept his expression smooth, the way one might tolerate pigeons.

“Sit here, sit here,” Matthew said, dragging up a chair for him.

“Tch.”

The sound came from Uno, perched at the edge of the table with his permanent scowl.

“Where you going?” Matthew teased.

“Going for a smoke,” Uno muttered, already half-rising.

Matthew barked a laugh. “Bro, stop lying. You literally lit one ten minutes ago. What are you trying to do, fumigate the street?”

Lev arched a brow. You really can’t stand looking at me? Perfect. The feeling’s mutual, you self-important fossil.

“C’mon, Uno,” Oliver chimed in, grinning. “You still sulking? You got your phone back already, remember?”

“Shut up, Oliver,” Uno snapped, voice low and sharp.

Lev, ever the picture of calm, leaned back and offered the kind of polite smile that belonged at a funeral. “I think we should let him be.” His tone was mild, but his eyes carried the faintest glimmer of mockery.

The captains around the table murmured in admiration.

“What a nice guy,” Oliver chuckled.

Uno froze, glass in hand. Nice guy? The word hit him like an insult wrapped in silk. He remembered the warehouse. That razor-sharp shift in Lev’s expression. This wasn’t kindness. This was Lev pulling his strings.

Grinding his teeth, Uno sat back down, slamming the bottle onto the table a little harder than necessary. Walking out now would make it look like Lev had won, and he refused to give him that satisfaction. If pride was poison, Uno would rather choke on it than let Lev see him fold.

Matthew, propping his chin on his hand, tilted his head. “So, Lev… where do you live? I’ve been in City B forever and never seen you around.”

Lev met the curious gazes with a cryptic smile. “I used to live outside this country,” Well, technically, he’s not lying. He lived in the dungeon.

At the table, questions rained down, and his enigmatic smile. The one he’d perfected for hiding his inner ruthless demeanor began to wane.

Finally, he simply replied, “It’s a secret.” He breathed a sigh of relief as the questions mercifully tapered off after that.

A dull thud broke through the chatter, drawing Lev’s eyes toward Uno once again.

“Dude, you’re wasted,” Matthew chuckled, shaking his head.

Uno pinched the bridge of his nose, face tight with irritation. The alcohol was clearly catching up to him, his movements sluggish as he pushed himself to his feet. “I need some air,” he muttered.

He snagged his jacket from the back of his chair, slung it carelessly over his shoulder, and staggered toward the exit.

Lev’s gaze lingered on him, unreadable.

“Don’t worry about him,” Matthew said with a teasing grin, watching Lev instead of Uno. “He’ll live.”

Lev didn’t respond. His expression stayed flat, giving nothing away. The last thing he wanted was to indulge Matthew’s antics.

Time passed. The bar grew wilder. The tables shaking under dancing hunters and examinees. Matthew was twirling with abandon like some deranged party mascot.

It was finally Lev’s signal to take his leave. The blaring electronic noise grated on his ears, pushing him away. Slipping into a narrow alley to avoid the constant shuffle of people spilling out of the bar, he caught the acrid bite of cigarette smoke in the air. A sharp blend of tar, bitter nicotine, and smoldering ash. The scent pricked at his senses, unmistakable in its trail.

Lev followed it.

From the shadowed mouth of a narrow alley, he spotted Uno slumped against the graffiti-stained wall of the bar. His head hung low, one hand clutching his black jacket, the other loosely holding a cigarette.

Lev approached, stopping directly before him. His shadow fell over Uno, a silent weight. He regarded him with the cold stillness of a predator watching its prey.

Uno looked up slowly, bleary-eyed but not surprised. “You don’t look drunk. They’ve been pouring you drinks back there.”

Lev gave no reply. The odd-tasting drink slid through him without consequence. Even the most lethal poison known to man would fail to harm him.

His tone carried no warmth, only a detached curiosity as he asked, “Do you need help?”