Zarek took deep breaths, beads of sweat falling down his brow. The summer months were already well underway, and yet his body seemed to be making the sun look as though it wasn't very good at its job.
His body was at such a scalding temperature compared to the air around him that his breaths were misting as though it was the depths of winter.
Sweat drenched him, but his eyes were focused to an extreme, as though he was ready to fight for another three days if necessary.
Focus. Unbridled focus.
But there were no enemies left to fight, almost leaving him disappointed in the outcome.
He had missed that feeling.
Slowly, he unbent his knees, standing from an athletic posture to ramrod straight.
He stood on the other end of the bridge, the fire in his amber eyes slowly fading as the wind finally seemed to begin to reach him.
With a flip of his blades in his palms, he sheathed them both to his back and finally checked the progress.
Several thick, fortified walls of sandbags had been layered down the road, forming five large sections of wall that were well protected.
Right now, they were building up the cement bags around them, likely planning to use some of the heft of the sand in the middle to their advantage.
They would definitely need more trucks if they wanted to do that, but Zarek's appearance had given them an advantage none of them expected.
"Are you okay?" Priya asked, using her little palm to wipe at his forehead. "Sorry, I don't have a towel."
Zarek smiled. "Why wouldn't I be? It was just a little workout."
Priya blinked. "… That's a little workout?"
"You'll be this strong soon, too. I'm just cheating a little bit. You'll definitely catch up."
"Really?"
"Okay, maybe not. I'm pretty amazing."
Priya slapped his chest, rolling her eyes. This guy could never be serious.
"Let's go back."
Priya nodded. At this point, no one had the heart to tell Zarek that he should be helping them build walls right now. Other than Gabe, who stared at Zarek for a little while longer as he passed by, the others were almost too scared to look at Zarek.
What if he chose to treat them like one of those Turned?
Suddenly, they felt that they were very stupid for staring at him so hard before. If he had lost his temper back then, who would have been able to stop him?
Zarek didn't mind it, randomly choosing a car on the side of the road to hotwire, then peeled off with Priya by his side.
This was indeed just a good workout to him. With how limber his body was feeling now, he would have smoother circulation practice when the moon came out tonight. But he would also have to find time to deal with that properly.
He couldn't very well circulate [Godsfall Eclipse] while inside the condominium high-rise.
Still, right now he needed to put more effort into raising Temp Duplicate and Harmonic Recall. They were starting to lag behind his other abilities too much.
Though it was true that Talents tended to evolve far more slowly, he would have to make it faster than that.
And his C-Class Scouting would be a nice shortcut. Now that he could afford some peace and quiet, it was time he really figured out the ins and outs of these Talents.
Although he didn't want to admit it, it wouldn't be until he confirmed some things that he would know for certain whether the path he was on right now was even viable…
**
"What do you think?"
A man that looked almost like a carbon copy of Zade sat behind a large, oak desk. It must have been two and a half meters from end to end, and carried a thickness to it that matched its size perfectly.
To his back, a view that dropped to the city below painted the scenery.
As for why this man looked so similar to Zade, it was because he was none other than the man's elder brother, Marx Occam.
"Confident kid, and rightfully so."
"That's all you have to say? He's stronger than all of us," Marx said with a smile.
"That depends."
"He didn't use his Talent."
"Didn't he? I'm not too sure. Not all Talents are so obvious."
"Oh yeah?" Marx leaned forward. "Do tell."
Zade rolled his eyes. "We're grown men already. Do you really still have to test me like I'm a child?"
"Humor me. These are big brother privileges."
"Fine, whatever. We've already noticed that those monsters go down pretty easily sometimes, and at other times they seem impossible to kill. I'm guessing that they have some sort of engine within them that changes location depending on variable factors we can't account for. If I had to guess, that teen's Talent is related to finding that engine and easily cutting it off."
Marx chuckled. "I would probably agree."
"Probably?"
"Well, we can't exactly dismiss the possibility that it's a Skill."
"Maybe not, but there was a commotion before we entered that was caused by him scanning the abilities of others. Gabe, our other standout, didn't seem capable of stopping him although he managed to stop all of our Scouting efforts. That makes me think that his ability is stronger than a normal Scouting Skill—thus, a Talent."
"Your thoughts are valid, but… what level is our Scouting Skill at?"
"… E-Class."
"Do we have experience with what a higher Scouting Skill would be capable of?"
"… No."
Marx smiled as though there was nothing more left to say.
"… Do you think he's smart enough to do that? To make us think his Skill was actually his Talent?"
"Maybe. He seems like a brash kid, but that doesn't mean he is."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because I know the little girl by his side."
Zade's eyes sharpened.
"Who is she?"
"She's our gracious mayor's daughter. If there was ever a teenage girl that would never go through a rebellious phase, it's her. Even if she did go through such a phase, she would have snapped right out of it the moment those dimensional tears started to appear.
"So why would such a smart little girl choose to be with a 'brash' young man, letting her parents think she was dead, rather than going under the safety of one of the most powerful government officials in the country?"
Zade was speechless, but in the end, he sighed. In the end, he had never been able to see the picture from as wide a view as his elder brother could.
Why would he bother to remember the face of the mayor's daughter? Such spoiled rich kids were insignificant to him. Yet not only did Marx remember, he even understood her character enough to make such an assessment.
"In that case, he's dangerous. What should we do?"
"He wants something from us for sure," Marx said slowly. "If he's the type of young man I think he is, he wouldn't put himself under our control for nothing. But… I don't think we have anything that would interest someone like him right now. So…
"Keep him close until we figure out what he wants, then take advantage of it before he can."