Kayden didn't bother to reply. He simply took a calm sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving the window.
Colton struck again with his words, "Didn't I tell you it was a golden opportunity? The problem is, you only believe yourself!"
Then he turned toward Henry, as if searching for an ally to back up his point.
Henry muttered hesitantly, as though the words weighed heavily on his tongue. "Maybe… I do think it's actually a good opportunity."
Then he looked at Colton and asked in a low voice, tinged with curiosity, "But… what about you?"
Kayden slowly raised an eyebrow, stopping his hand just before it reached his mouth, then turned toward Colton and said in a calm tone shaded with sarcasm, "Right… what about you, Colton?"
Silence fell for a brief moment while Colton thought carefully. Then a confident smile formed on his lips. "I don't follow anyone."
Kayden lifted his eyebrow mockingly. Colton noticed but didn't care.
"My only commitment is to do what I want… and what I see as necessary."
Kayden gazed through the window at the street, crowded with life. Carriages passed by, faces moved along, children laughed… yet none of it felt like it belonged to him or tied him to the world around him.
He spoke softly, like a confession slipping from the depths of his heart. "I feel like time is running frighteningly fast… do you feel that too?"
Both of them shook their heads in denial, but Kayden knew deep down that what he felt was no illusion.
He lifted his eyes to the sky and found it completely dark.
When did the sun set? How did I not notice? Night always comes faster than expected… and I don't sleep enough.
A small smile appeared on Kayden's lips—more like the smile of someone who had surrendered to the acceleration of time, as if he had made peace with an unavoidable fate. He clasped his hands in front of him and said with quiet firmness, "One week, then… we decide."
Neither Henry nor Colton commented, but they nodded in silence. It wasn't just agreement—it was a kind of unspoken complicity that needed no words.
On the way back, as the streetlights went out one by one, as if the entire city were falling asleep at once, Colton said in a low voice, almost a whisper,
"The end of the month… is approaching."
"What do you mean? We're still at the beginning," Kayden turned to him, his eyes gleaming with curiosity mixed with a hint of tension.
"Do you mean… that the hunt has begun?"
Colton answered without hesitation, smiling. "Yes."
Kayden paused for a moment, his voice dropping lower with each word. "Have you found anyone already?"
Colton spoke coldly. "Three. When we return to the room… I'll tell you the details, and we'll choose."
When Kayden returned to his room, he found Colton sitting in the darkness, unmoving—except for a contemplative gaze fixed on something obscure in his hands, as if he were planning an irreversible event.
Kayden sat carelessly on a nearby chair, resting his head against his palm. "Tell me more."
Colton let out a brief hum before beginning, his voice devoid of emotion, like someone reading a list. "The first… a girl in the Fourth District, an area crowded with the poor. That makes her, in my opinion, the safest option."
He lifted his eyes to make sure Kayden was listening—and found him fully focused.
"The second… a single man, alone, with very little to lose. As for the third…"
He paused briefly before saying the name. "Arbella."
A heavy look settled over Kayden's features. He exhaled slowly, as if pushing an invisible weight off his chest.
"Arbella is being watched… and her behavior is reckless. Choosing her would put us under the spotlight. It's better to keep this between the first or the second."
Colton stood and moved toward the wardrobe, dragging his fingers across the doors as if searching for something to distract his mind from the decision.
"I think… I'll choose the man."
Kayden stepped closer and stood beside him—not out of any real intention to help choose—then asked in a low voice, as if testing his intentions,
"Why?"
Colton smiled a cryptic smile as he pulled out a dark-colored jacket, then said,
"Because he has black eyes."
Kayden's eyebrows rose slowly before he muttered, as if cursing the coincidence,
"Oh… damn it."
Kayden returned to his bed and sat down quietly. He spoke calmly, though exhaustion was evident in his voice.
"Fine. Do what you see fit… but make it a clean hunt. No traces. Leave no doubts. Make it look like a natural death—nothing more."
Colton sat on the floor and lifted his gaze, studying Kayden with a piercing look, as if testing the fragility of his emotions.
"Aren't you sad? Shouldn't you stop me?"
Kayden exhaled slowly, as though the question itself was pointless.
"And why? A human life isn't really that valuable… at least in this world. Besides, you told me about the hunt from the beginning—why would I pretend to be surprised now? Just don't leave chaos behind."
A still smile formed on Colton's lips, as if he had found what he was looking for.
"I'll let you know the time of the hunt… you'll be there. To observe."
Kayden rose slowly and went to fill a glass of water. Colton watched him, then stood and spoke quickly, before changing his appearance once more.
"Tell your brother to keep training. And you too… don't stop this week."
Kayden drank the water, then took a sleeping pill. He threw his body onto the bed without adding a word, as if sleep had become the only escape from the weight piling up inside him.
The days passed with unexpected smoothness. Gradually, Kayden began to adapt to training under Roger's supervision, despite his strange temperament and obvious madness.
On the morning of the third day, he accompanied him to the harbor—two full hours during which Kayden endured Roger's pressure, forcing him to meditate the entire way.
"Kayden, come on," Roger called out when they arrived. He stepped down first, and Kayden followed with heavy steps.
Roger smiled as he watched him.
"You're quite good at entering a deep meditative state… do you train often?"
Kayden laughed, remembering Colton's merciless training.
"A bit, yes."
Roger gestured toward the crowded dock.
"There's a weapons exchange today. Nothing dangerous… you can swim for a bit, or just stay with me."
Kayden chose to stay with him, observing in silence. He was surprised by Roger's ability to conclude deals swiftly and skillfully, as if pulling strings with an expertise not easily acquired.
Roger introduced him to the traders with a roguish smile.
"My younger brother, Kayden… the best negotiator you'll ever see."
After the deal was finished, Kayden asked in a light tone, filled with uncertainty
"Why would you say that? I'm just a beginner… I feel like a child who needs someone to hold his hand."
Roger kept his eyes on the sea for a moment before answering in a low voice, closer to a confession.
"Because you're smart… and you've always carried signs that you'd become a powerful. Before that girl appeared and ruined everything. But I don't blame you."
One of the men approached from behind and handed Roger a modern handgun. Without hesitation, Roger passed it directly to Kayden—as if placing in his hands a heavy promise with no room for retreat.
Roger turned the gun between his hands, then extended it toward Kayden.
"Look at this… our father taught us how to hunt from a young age, and you were always good at it. So don't worry."
He tapped Kayden's chest with his finger.
"Your core is independent now. Have you accepted it? I finished that stage very quickly."
Kayden nodded, but his eyes drifted toward a distant place only he could see.
"I feel like something is wrong… I just don't know what it is."
Roger leaned closer, his tone more serious, stripped of its usual playfulness.
"Tell me… what's on your mind?"
Kayden slowly rolled the gun between his fingers, moving its parts as if searching for an answer in the cold metal.
"I think I'm just… exhausted. That's all."
Roger laughed loudly and slapped him hard on the back.
"That's not a small thing! When I feel exhausted, I want to run away from the entire world! But don't worry… at least we're here together—if you want to escape."
Then Roger gestured around them with a childlike excitement that didn't match his harsh appearance.
"Here, you'll find everything… bars, illegal fighting rings… endless fun. You do whatever you want, and no one stands in your way. You can even fight and beat someone without them complaining—without anyone asking your name or status. Do you get it?"
Kayden thought for a moment, then looked up with a faint smile.
"Let's start with the fighting ring. After that… we drink. And maybe go swimming at night."
Roger's eyes lit up instantly.
"Deal!"
When they returned to the hotel to change clothes, Kayden noticed something strange about this family. The wardrobe was almost devoid of light colors—everything was dark shades, black or gray, as if they lived in eternal mourning.
Roger picked a brown wool sweater, while Kayden wore a turquoise shirt that looked oddly out of place amid all the darkness. Kayden smiled lightly.
"Have you noticed? I look like an intruder among your gloomy colors."
"You're an idiot with bright eyes," Roger replied without turning to look at him.
They put on heavy coats and left the hotel. The night was cold like frozen water; even Roger shivered slightly as he pulled his collar closer.
"The night air is brutal."
Kayden lifted his gaze to the dark sky and said softly,
"Do you ever feel like time moves faster in the dark?"
Roger stopped walking for a moment, turned to him, and smiled faintly.
"You're smart… I don't want to say something stupid in front of you, so let me think about it a bit. I'll answer you later."
They entered the first fighting ring. Cheap smoke rose from cigarettes, sweaty faces shouted, and muffled blows echoed from inside the rough wooden arena. It didn't take long before Roger stood up, his expression unusually cold.
"This place doesn't suit us. Follow me."
He led Kayden through a narrow corridor reeking of dampness and cigarettes, until they reached an underground hall—wider, louder. Here, the noise was entirely different: screams, growls, the sound of bones colliding, and crowds betting wildly. This wasn't just fighting… it was brutality wrapped in thrill.
Kayden sat on one of the elevated stone seats, while Roger disappeared for a short time, then returned and sat beside him in heavy silence. Suddenly, without warning, he said in a low voice,
"Brother… I'm sorry."
Kayden kept watching two men fight in the ring, blood splattering across the floor. He didn't turn to him as he asked,
"Why?"
Roger took a deep breath, then dropped the bomb.
"I signed you up to fight… you need real physical training. Take a few hits. Prove you're a man."
Kayden's eyes stayed on the ring. There was no visible anger—just a long sigh, like someone surrendering to an inevitable fate.
"Fine. I'll do it. It's better than sitting anyway… my ass is starting to hurt. I'll take the hits and come back."
Roger burst out laughing, then leaned closer and whispered,
"You have the basic skills from our father's training. Just smash the face of whoever stands in front of you. And if you get hit, it doesn't matter—but protect your face, or you'll be punished. Remember, don't break your face, or we'll both be punished if that happens."
At that moment, Kayden felt a strange sting inside him, as if something small were slowly eroding. It wasn't clear regret, nor real fear… but something between the two, pressing against his chest without a clear reason.
"This is unfair. I don't want to be punished after taking the hits—you're manipulating things."
Kayden heard his name being called twice amid the noise.
"Kayden… Kayden!"
He stood up hesitantly, his feet heavier than they should have been, yet they carried him into the ring. As he walked slowly, tangled memories flooded his mind—Arthur's harsh discipline forcing him into training, the shouts of military instructors, and his mother's warm laughter when she used to take him to learn kung fu.
He clenched his teeth hard, cursing himself internally.
Damn it… now isn't the time for memories. Even if I can fight, I'll probably just take the beating… this is a real Tamer.
He stood in the center of the ring, facing a massive man with tan skin, messy black hair, and eyes blazing with violent energy.
The man stepped closer, his deep voice rumbling through the noise.
"Kid… you look like a beginner, don't you?"