Chapter 182: A Favor, Star Show
"Oh. Isaac," she said, her voice slipping back into that familiar calm, polite tone. "What a coincidence to see you here."
Isaac didn’t even bother to play along.
"It’s not a coincidence. I’ve been searching for you."
Her brows drew together slightly, confusion settling on her face.
"Searching?"
"You’re late for the event."
Celia blinked once. Then again.
She pulled out her phone, checked the time, and immediately paled.
"Oh no."
She placed her hand over her forehead, then groaned.
"Arlene is going to give me an earful."
Isaac waited, watching her glance back at the kids still playing nearby.
Her eyes lingered on them longer than necessary, and for a moment, it looked like she was considering staying anyway.
"What happened?" he asked.
Celia sighed. "Their toy broke. I tried fixing it, but I couldn’t. Then one thing led to another, and... well, I guess I lost track of time."
He didn’t respond immediately.
Outwardly, he kept the same expression he always wore. But inside, he found himself a little surprised.
Not by the situation itself, but by how naturally it made sense.
Of course, Celia would lose track of time.
She could teleport to any location in a heartbeat. Being late wasn’t something she ever had to worry about.
It made sense she’d be careless with time, especially in places where she let her guard down.
"What toy broke?" he asked.
She pointed toward a small table in the corner of the backyard.
On it sat a half-dismantled wind-up robot.
The outer shell had cracked open, and its arms were dangling awkwardly, like they had been pulled too far and jammed inside the shoulder joints.
"It was one of the older kids’ favorites," Celia said. "He wanted to get it working again, and I... tried. I really did. But I don’t know how these things are built."
Isaac walked over, picked up the toy, and turned it in his hand.
The gears inside weren’t anything complex.
It was just a matter of knowing how the tension worked and re-aligning the components.
His fingers moved quickly, pushing a few joints back into place, tightening the tension spring, and realigning the arms.
He twisted the key and set it down.
The toy robot came back to life, walking in stiff but confident steps across the table.
Celia’s mouth fell open slightly.
"You fixed it?"
The boy who owned the toy rushed over and let out a cheer. "It works again!"
Several of the other children clapped and crowded around the table, watching the toy make its mechanical march.
Celia looked at Isaac with something between surprise and admiration.
"I didn’t know you could do things like that."
"I’m good with my hands," he said plainly.
"...Right."
She was going to say something more until she noticed the boy, who had called her drawing bad, was not praising Isaac with shining eyes.
Her lips twitched.
But then, she shook her head with a smile.
With the children distracted again and the toy back in working condition, Celia finally sighed in relief.
"Well, I guess it’s time to go," she said, brushing her clothes off. As they walked back through the main hall toward the exit, she glanced sideways at him. "Sorry. I’ve always been bad at keeping track of time."
Isaac nodded. "It’s fine."
He didn’t say it out loud, but her being late had actually helped him test his newly evolved skill. He wouldn’t complain.
As they stepped outside, Celia didn’t immediately vanish or activate a teleportation spell.
Instead, she followed him toward his car and slid into the passenger seat without saying a word.
Isaac raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it.
He started the engine, and the car hummed to life.
They drove in silence for a short while until Celia raised her hand and conjured something between her fingers.
A soft glow pulsed in the air, and a thick mist began to form ahead of them.
The vapor took on a shape of a dark cloud.
She pointed forward.
"Drive through it."
Isaac glanced at her, skeptical. "Through that teleporter?"
"Yes," she said with a grin. "Just drive. Trust me. It’s fun."
He paused for a second. Then shrugged and pressed the pedal.
The car rolled forward and entered the cloud.
As soon as the front crossed the edge, the mist expanded rapidly, swallowing them whole.
The world outside distorted, colors blurring past the windows in flashes.
The feeling was completely different from walking through the teleporter.
It didn’t feel like driving.
It felt like they were gliding through an invisible tunnel made of water and air. The car zipped forward at an impossibly fast speed.
Isaac gripped the wheel tightly as the sensation washed over him.
A small smile formed on his lips, feeling the rush.
Then, a second later, they burst out the other side.
They weren’t near the orphanage anymore.
They were parked in the exact center of the staff-only area behind the main event hall.
Several people walking nearby stopped in place, eyes wide, mouths slightly open.
One of the guards actually dropped his clipboard.
Celia was laughing.
"Wasn’t that fun?" she said, leaning back in the seat with a satisfied smile.
"I’ll admit. I didn’t expect it to feel like that ."
"It feels like slipping through a dream, doesn’t it?" she grinned. "I used to do it just for fun when I was younger. Hehe, I spooked a lot of captains with it."
He glanced at the now-fading cloud behind them.
"So why was the sensation different while we used a car?"
"It’s because we were inside a closed object—this car," she said, stretching her arms behind her head. "I don’t know the full details, but when one travels through the spatial domain while being inside an object, they experience a ’jump’ instead of normal teleportation though...."
"Though?"
"Jump is dangerous. If anything goes wrong, we can be teleported to unknown locations or inside objects."
Isaac was stunned.
Did he just almost kill himself by following her words.
She laughed, seeing his expression. "The danger is part of the thrill."
Isaac nodded thoughtfully. "Explains the weightless feeling."
They stepped out of the car.
She turned to say something else, but her expression froze.
Because she heard a very familiar voice that cut through the air like a blade.
"Celia."
The laughter died immediately.
Isaac looked over his shoulder and saw Arlene walking toward them.
She was calm on the surface, moving with her usual grace and poise.
But anyone paying attention could notice the tightness in her jaw, the precise steps of her heels on the pavement, and the sharp glint behind her eyes.
She wasn’t angry yet, but the signs were all there.
Celia didn’t move.
For a few seconds, she stayed frozen in the passenger seat.
Her shoulders were stiff and her hands were awkwardly resting at her sides like she was bracing for impact.
Then she let out a long breath and muttered under it, "...I’m dead."
Isaac didn’t say anything.
Still, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Arlene reached them and stood in front of Celia.
She didn’t say a word at first, and only looked at Celia.
Since Arlene had a good figure and was tall to begin with—and wearing heels on top of it—she easily looked down at Celia, who was now fidgeting with the hem of her jacket like a nervous child caught sneaking snacks.
"Get ready for the show," Arlene said.
"Okay!" Celia dashed toward the building with a speed that matched her usual energetic persona.
Once she was gone, Arlene turned toward Isaac. Her sharp look softened slightly.
"I have to thank you," she said. "And I should probably apologize."
Isaac gave her a questioning look.
"I said you wouldn’t be able to find her." Arlene exhaled and pushed back a strand of her hair. "But if you hadn’t, the event would’ve started late. That would’ve been a disaster. Especially with all the people we’ve gathered today."
She wasn’t exaggerating.
This was more than just a casual performance.
It was a major event with high-ranking politicians, guild leaders, and dignitaries in attendance. Being late could have caused problems they didn’t need.
Isaac nodded once. "Everything worked out in the end. There is no need to apologize."
Arlene smiled at that.
"Still," she added, "thank you."
Then she stepped away, bringing Isaac to VVIP viewing area.
A few minutes later, the lights dimmed across the outdoor arena and the screens on either side of the stage flickered to life.
The crowd shifted forward in anticipation.
Isaac took his place in the reserved seating area along with a few other key figures.
Some he recognized. A few were leaders of the Awakener Associations. Others were lesser-known but still powerful.
Yet for now, none of them seemed important today.
No one in the crowd was sneaking glances at them.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed at the stage.
The music started.
The stage lights exploded in rhythm with the opening beat, casting soft hues of blue, violet, and gold.
Then, Celia appeared.
She stood at the center of the stage, dressed in a dark, shimmering outfit that glowed faintly under the lights.
It wasn’t revealing, nor overly formal.
It was somewhere in between—tailored for movement, clearly designed with performance in mind.
Her long hair was tied back, and she had a sweet smile.
Then she moved.
It wasn’t the kind of dance that relied on flashy steps or overly complex choreography.
It was clean, smooth, with precise control over every motion. Her steps flowed with the beat, not trying to dominate the music but to become part of it.
Then she began to sing.
The melody was unfamiliar to Isaac, but it didn’t matter.
The moment she opened her mouth, the noise of the crowd faded into silence.
Her voice wasn’t overly powerful or sharp. It was soft but clear, weaving through the melody with an almost effortless balance.
What surprised him most was the tone. It wasn’t the manufactured perfection of a professional idol voice. It had emotion. Depth. Her voice didn’t just carry the tune—it carried the feeling behind it.
The crowd had been excited before. But now, they were captivated.
People stood still. Even the high-ranking guests—many of whom had shown up only out of obligation—were focused entirely on the stage.
Isaac glanced around. No one was looking at him. No one cared about the strength he carried, the influence he might hold. Not right now.
Right now, Celia was the only one shining.
For the next few songs, she didn’t stop.
Somewhere along, the crowd had started to sing with her. They cheered her and danced along.
The second track was faster, and more upbeat.
She moved with greater energy, dancing with confident steps and swinging momentum.
Her singing adapted smoothly, rising and falling with the tempo without losing breath or pitch.
Then the stage transformed again.
A new backdrop came to life behind her, made from floating panels and illusions. They changed in sync with the music.
It wasn’t just the crowd that was reacting.
When the third song began, she slowed things down.
The lights dimmed.
Only a soft spotlight remained on her as she walked slowly to the edge of the stage. Her voice this time was almost a whisper, carrying pain and hope in equal measure.
Isaac didn’t know the lyrics, but he didn’t need to.
She wasn’t performing for the sake of entertainment anymore. This wasn’t about being an idol. It was about expression. And whatever story she was telling through the music, it came through clearly.
The children from the orphanage would probably say she looked like a different person now.
But Isaac didn’t think that.
This was still the same Celia.
The same girl chasing a kid through a backyard, yelling about a ruined drawing. The difference was, this was another side of her, just as real.
When the last song ended, the crowd roared.
The applause wasn’t polite or controlled. It was explosive. People stood up. Some even shouted her name, not out of formal recognition, but out of genuine excitement.
Celia smiled, bowed slightly, and raised a hand.
Then the lights dimmed one final time, and the curtains began to close.
Isaac leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. The music was still ringing faintly in his ears.
He never listened to songs much.
He didn’t have the habit for it.
Growing up, music was more of a background noise than anything else. It was something others paid attention to while he focused on training, work, or the next fight.
But even he could tell Celia’s performance had been something different.
A single girl, alone on a stage, had somehow managed to capture the attention of thousands of people—not by overwhelming them, not with flashy lights or explosive tricks—but just by being there.
Her voice, her presence, her movement. None of it felt forced.
She didn’t need to shout to be heard.
She didn’t need to stand tall to be seen.
And still, somehow, for those few minutes, it felt like she really was the only star in the sky.
When the lights dimmed and the curtains finally closed, the crowd didn’t calm immediately.
If anything, the energy grew.
People clapped, cheered, and chattered loudly. Cameras flashed. Drones hovered above, capturing every moment for the broadcast networks.
Even the politicians—those usually too composed to react—had been swept up in the performance.
A few were clapping a little too hard.
One man in a suit had even removed his tie, clearly forgetting the cameras were still rolling.
Isaac stayed seated for a while longer, arms resting on his knees, watching the aftermath.
Eventually, someone approached him.
Arlene.
"I’m sorry," she said, straight to the point. "I know we promised you a short meeting with Celia before the performance, and we couldn’t do it.
"I wanted the meeting to be now, but the schedule is tighter than expected. There’s a fan event happening in fifteen minutes. She has to change, hydrate, and prep."
She genuinely looked sad, perhaps because Isaac had helped her, but she couldn’t do the same.
"I promise," Arlene continued, adjusting the small earpiece in her ear, "we’ll make time tomorrow. You’ll have a proper meeting with her."
He nodded.
"She’ll come visit you personally," Arlene added. "We’ll arrange everything."
"Alright," Isaac said.
Arlene looked relieved. "Thank you again. Really."
She moved off quickly after that, already answering a dozen calls and shouting soft instructions into her mic as she weaved through the crowd of staff.
Isaac stood up and made his way toward the back area.
"I should say goodbye before I leave, I guess," he thought.
It was already night, so he had to pick up Alice, but he decided to meet Celia before that.
He could already hear excited voices from a hallway near the side wing of the venue. More fans were lining up for the giveaway and meeting event.
The security had expanded, staff members were guiding people, and barriers had been set up to maintain order.
He wasn’t sure if he’d get a chance to talk to her before she went in, but then he saw her.
Celia was heading toward the fan meet area from the opposite direction, surrounded by two assistants.
Her face was flushed red, cheeks glowing from the exertion.
Her hair stuck slightly to her forehead.
Her clothes had been changed into a more casual but still branded outfit—a soft pastel jacket over a loose black shirt and fitted jeans.
She was breathing a little hard. Covered in sweat, still glowing from the stage lights. But she looked thrilled.
The moment she spotted him, her eyes lit up.
"Isaac!" she said, waving as she jogged over.
She stopped just a step away, hands on her hips, still catching her breath.
"How was it? Be honest. Did it suck?"
Isaac didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her, taking in the excitement written all over her face, the way her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"I’ve never heard anything even half as good," he said simply.
Celia blinked, stunned for a second. Then her whole expression brightened.
"Really?" she asked. "You’re not just saying that to be nice?"
He shook his head.
She let out a hearty laugh and then reached into the small sling bag slung over her shoulder. "Then, here. I wanted to give you this."
She pulled out a sleek, compact box, no larger than a book.
The cover had her logo embossed in metallic silver over a matte black background.
When she flipped it open, it revealed a small music player—thin and high-end, with her signature printed on the back in silver ink.
There were also two items neatly arranged next to it.
One was a collector’s card with her image from the performance earlier, and the other was a miniature replica of the pendant she wore on stage—a tiny star-shaped charm, simple and elegant.
"Uh, ignore the picture, please." She seemed a bit embarrassed.
She quickly took out the image and pocketed it, then she showed him the other times.
"This is the first piece from the new merchandise line," she said, holding it out to him. "We’re launching the set officially today, right after the fan event. These are limited giveaway-only editions. But I wanted you to have the first one."
Isaac took the box from her hands, inspecting it quietly. It was cleanly made, well-designed, and clearly expensive.
"Thanks," he said, sliding the box into his coat pocket.