After Al's three sisters left one by one, each citing their own busy schedules, an awkward silence settled over the living room.
Al's mother, Sandra, spoke in a soft but firm tone, her voice laced with responsibility.
"David, please escort Al to his room. He still needs rest after the long journey. You can also show him around briefly so he can get more familiar with the house."
She glanced at David, then at Al, eyes full of hope—but beneath it, a trace of worry lingered.
David gave a small nod, then stood up and looked at Al with a warm expression—yet there was something in his eyes that seemed faintly condescending.
Al rose casually as well, showing no sign of unease, and followed David out of the room, leaving their mother behind in silence.
They passed through a wide corridor. Not a single word was spoken.
Breaking the quiet, Al finally spoke up.
"David…" he called out casually.
"Hmph?" David murmured, not fully turning around, only giving a light glance.
Al let out a breath, lifted both hands behind his head, and leaned back slightly.
"Huff… I honestly don't know how to talk to you," he said casually. "There's a lot I want to ask, but I don't think now's the right time."
David was silent for a moment before responding with a warm smile.
"You don't need to hold back. We're brothers, after all, and sooner or later we'll have to get to know each other better. Just ask whatever you want," he replied.
Al looked at him briefly, then nodded.
"You're right," he said lightly. "In that case… I'm curious. What did you think when you found out I was coming back? How did you feel?"
David hadn't expected Al to ask such a technically sensitive question so directly.
He stopped walking and turned fully to face Al. After a moment of thought, he looked away and resumed walking before answering calmly.
"There were many thoughts related to your return," he said casually.
"They all came down to what would happen once you arrived. How you would treat me, whether I'd have to leave, things like that..."
"...But in the end, no one wanted me gone—and so far, I don't think you mind me being here either," he added.
Al nodded at the response, which sounded sincere.
"That's good to hear," he said. "Personally, I don't have any issue with you being here at all. I'm actually grateful you took my place all these years."
Al patted David on the shoulder and added,
"So… if you ever start thinking badly of me, from now on, I hope you'll throw those thoughts far away. I didn't come back to take what you've earned. I came back because I'm part of this family," he said sincerely.
"After all, we were both victims of the past. I'll never blame you—much less try to take your place," he added.
This time, David responded with a smile and a light nod as he continued walking.
Al nodded as well, watching David more closely. A sense of curiosity stirred within him toward the boy.
A faint crimson glint flickered in his eyes—but before he could make out anything more, his expression suddenly froze.
What… is this? he thought, his eyes widening. Why can't I…
At that moment, they had already reached the end of the corridor. Whatever Al was trying to do—or think—was cut short when David called out to one of the female servants.
The maid approached. She was fairly plump and quite tall, looking to be in her mid-twenties.
Her face and manner of dress suggested she was probably from a rural area.
For some reason, Al felt like he had seen her before—but this time, he chose not to think too much about it.
She stopped in front of them and immediately offered a respectful bow.
It looked like the greeting was meant for both of them—but for some reason, it felt as though it was directed solely at David.
"Bia, take Al to the temporary resting quarters," David instructed calmly. "I have something to take care of."
"Yes, Young Master," the maid replied. Bia's accent and way of speaking clearly hinted at a village background—or at least the outskirts of Makazhar.
David nodded, but Al felt a slight sense of unease.
"Wait… shouldn't you be taking me to my room?" Al asked calmly, a little confused. "Why a temporary resting place?"
"Because there's a small issue," David replied casually.
"Your actual room isn't ready yet. It's still being cleaned. You'll rest somewhere else this afternoon, and tonight you can move into your room." he added.
Al understood and didn't feel the need to make a fuss. He nodded.
"Ah… I see. Alright," he said casually.
David gave another nod, then excused himself.
"Then I'll be going now," he said with a light smile. "And welcome to the Virellano family."
Al returned a small nod with a sincere smile, while David had already turned and walked away.
Bia bowed respectfully to David.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and there was something strange about that exchange—but aside from the two of them, no one else knew what it meant.
Once David was far enough away and no longer in sight of Al and Bia—
He stopped.
His eyes sharpened, his expression twisting slightly. He stared at the shoulder Al had patted earlier.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tissue and wiped the spot.
"Disgusting," he muttered under his breath, before walking away.
Meanwhile, Al simply observed as much as he could, watching David's back as he walked farther away until he disappeared from sight.
"He's not bad for an elite," Al muttered, glancing at Bia. "Is that just how his personality is?"
Bia lowered her head slightly.
"My apologies, Young Master Al. I am merely a servant. It would be improper for me to pass judgment on my master or a young master."
Al paused for a moment at that, finding elite formalities rather troublesome.
"Ah… I see. I understand," he said casually.
Bia nodded, then guided Al through several sections of the mansion toward his temporary resting place, explaining what little she could along the way.
From what Bia described, the Virellano main house alone was truly grand—towering five stories high, with a basement beneath it.
Its architecture blended classical elegance with modern design, every corner exuding refined sophistication.
Yet despite all that luxury, a stark contrast emerged when Bia led Al to the farthest edge of the first floor. The atmosphere there shifted dramatically.
So this house has ordinary rooms too, Al thought.
Bia opened a small door near a tall bookshelf along the corridor, revealing a room roughly four by five meters in size.
It was nearly empty, save for a small bed with a thin mattress, illuminated by a dim ceiling lamp.
Dust had settled thickly in the corners, and faint traces of age lingered in the air.
This had once been a maid's room, unused for over a decade—its door rarely opened at all.
"You'll rest here for now, Young master," Bia said coolly, though she tried to keep her tone neutral. "I'll take you to your real room after dinner."
Al was momentarily puzzled by being brought to such a place.
It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with the room itself—but they had passed several guest rooms that were far more suitable, only to end up here.
He scanned the small room without any expression.
"Are you sure I'm resting here?" Al asked. "Didn't we pass a few rooms earlier that—"
Bia responded before he could finish, as if she had prepared her answer in advance.
"My apologies, Young Master. I thought I should show you the entire first floor, so I figured you might as well rest in the room at the very end," she explained awkwardly.
"Besides, we've already walked this far. Going back would be quite a distance, and you probably need to rest soon, right?" she added.
"You're right, I do need rest… but why?" Al asked again.
"What do you mean, why?" she replied, looking confused.
"I mean... honestly, I wouldn't have minded if you took me back to that room, even if it was far," Al said flatly.
"It's just… bringing me here—even for non-elites, this place feels… off, doesn't it?"
"Ah… it's not like that," Bia stammered, clearly flustered and unsure how to respond.
"Then what is it?" Al pressed.
Bia grew awkward, struggling to explain herself.
"I just meant… I figured you wouldn't mind. You're used to living outside, right? Rooms out there must be smaller than this, so this shouldn't be a problem," she said quickly.
"...But if it is a problem, I can move you to a nicer room instead."
"Hmph… sorry, Young Master. I didn't realize you'd already started expecting more from this family," she added, her words carrying a thinly veiled jab.
Her tone held just enough accusation to sting, as if Al were demanding luxury.
Al looked at her for a moment.
Is she mocking me? he thought.
But… forget it. I need rest.
He let out a breath and nodded.
"No need. I was just making sure. Resting here is fine. Thank you for your help," Al replied as he turned away.
Bia nodded, relieved that he didn't push the issue further.
Al stepped inside, took off his backpack, placed it on the thinly covered bed, and stood beside it.
He turned back toward her and offered a casual smile, completely unbothered.
Bia nodded and was about to leave—but Al's voice stopped her before she could even take a step.
"Just one thing…" Al said, his tone suddenly cold.
Bia raised her head and met his gaze.
"…if you have even the slightest intention of playing games with me," Al continued.
His expression sharpened, serious and piercing.
"Don't expect me to stay silent."
The atmosphere instantly turned oppressive.
Bia's body stiffened as fear washed over her. She froze in place, unable to move, cold sweat forming as she swallowed hard—the only reactions her body could manage.
Her body trembled, whether from her excess weight or sheer fear, she couldn't tell.
"Y-Yes, Young Master," she replied nervously.
Al simply waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing her away. His expression returned to its lazy calm.
"Okay… you can go now," he said casually. "Don't forget to close the door."
Bia could only nod. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, yet the lingering unease and erratic pounding of her heart refused to fade.
She hurried away, carrying with her a discomfort she couldn't quite understand.
Inside the room, Al let out a sigh and shook his head.
Then he turned toward the small bed.
"Huff… finally, some rest," he muttered as he patted the dusty mattress, his tone utterly indifferent.
He was still thinking about what he'd just seen.
"Hm. David… who is that boy? And why couldn't my eyes see through him?" he muttered in confusion.
"This is getting interesting. A strange mansion… and a boy I can't read. Looks like this family holds more secrets than I thought. Maybe that's what will make my mission here more… challenging."
He then pulled his phone out of his backpack and began recording everything that had happened within his first hour at the Virellano estate — including what took place in the car with his father.
"Huff… Not even a full day, and it's already this dramatic. Maybe I should rethink my mission here, haha," he said, half-amused, half-exasperated.
But then he suddenly froze.
It felt like someone was watching him — peeking through the crack in the door.
He quickly walked over and pulled it open, only to find… no one suspicious.
Just a few servants and maids passing by. Nothing out of the ordinary.
When they noticed Al, the servants gave a faint nod—silent, polite, and oddly expressionless—before turning around and heading down the hallway.
Al stared blankly for a moment.
They were clearly human… right? Were they the ones peeking into my room? Hmph… he thought.
He shook his head.
Whatever. Whoever it was, I just hope they leave me alone. I hate being watched. He sighed quietly.
Then he went back inside and shut the door firmly behind him.
Inside, He looked around again. He ran his hand along the cracked wall, wiping away a layer of thick dust.
Beneath it, a faint carving began to show — the letters rough, scratched, but still legible: 'Virela.'
Virela? Isn't the family name supposed to be Virellano? With two Ls… Al thought.
Maybe someone just scribbled it for fun.
He touched the corner of his eye.
But whatever it was…
What caught my interest now was this—this family was far more mysterious than he had expected. It wasn't far from the spiritual side of things.
And there was a high chance they held clues about the existence of the relic… or the fragment linked to these eyes.
After observing and analyzing it further, he brushed the thoughts aside and decided to sleep.
He laid his jacket down on the bed to use as padding, pulled his backpack under his head, and soon drifted into a deep sleep that evening.