A cool night wind swept across the rooftop.
"The day before yesterday," Joren said calmly, "71-06 Ingram Street. You opened the safe behind the painting and stole a gem."
Felicia's smile disappeared.
She had executed that job flawlessly.
No witnesses.
No alarms.
No trace.
How did he find her?
FBI? Private investigator? Competitor?
The possibilities flashed through her mind before settling into contempt.
"Well," she said lightly, flexing her fingers, the hidden claws in her gloves glinting faintly, "looks like you're not here for an autograph."
Just an arrogant kid.
Too naive to understand the rules of the night.
"Want to catch me?" she smirked. "Try following me first, little brother."
She pivoted and sprinted along the narrow rooftop railing, her body weaving through neon shadow and light like liquid silver.
Joren stepped forward to pursue.
Against an agile opponent, the optimal method was interception — shortest path, absolute speed, overwhelming force.
He had taken only one step when—
CRACK!
A rusted water pipe beneath his foot burst open.
Water sprayed across the concrete, flooding his path.
Joren shifted left and continued forward without pause.
Felicia stopped at the roof's edge, arms crossed, watching him with relaxed amusement.
A smug smile curved her lips.
"Give up," she called. "Once you get close to me, misfortune finds you."
She tapped her temple.
"I call it… the Queen's Domain."
She loved the moment when confidence turned into doubt… and doubt into despair.
It was more intoxicating than any jewel.
"Brute strength means nothing before fate," she continued. "Go home, little brother. This isn't your world."
Joren stopped.
He pulled his hat brim lower.
Ouch, ouch.
A burst pipe?
That's your calamity?
Felicia saw him stand still and assumed he had accepted reality.
Boring.
She had hoped for more.
Fine.
She would end this.
With a flick of her wrist, she fired a grappling hook.
WHOOSH!
It embedded in the wall behind Joren.
She intended to swing over him like Spider-Man—
—and end the chase with a finishing kick.
The cable tightened.
Felicia launched forward, body tracing a perfect arc.
Then—
CLANG!
An air-conditioner mounting bracket snapped loose.
The heavy unit tore free, dragging sparking wires—
—and smashed into the cable.
The line jerked violently off course.
"What?!"
Felicia lost momentum mid-swing and slammed awkwardly onto the rooftop.
"Ugh—!"
Pain shot through her ribs.
She stared at the sparking AC unit in disbelief.
Her misfortune field… had backfired?
Joren approached slowly.
"Your misfortune," he said, "seems to affect you as well."
This was not backlash.
It was a tiny Ripple vibration delivered into structural stress points moments earlier.
The balance of power shifted.
Joren raised his hand.
Two fingers pointed at her.
"Warm-up complete. Return what you stole."
A bluish-purple silhouette appeared behind him.
Felicia couldn't see it.
But the air changed.
The boy before her felt like an immovable mountain.
No.
She refused to be intimidated.
Felicia sprang forward, extending her baton.
With a snap, it unfolded into a flexible whip.
She lashed toward him.
The whip stopped ten centimeters from his face.
Frozen.
As if seized by an invisible giant.
Felicia's eyes widened.
She yanked back.
It didn't move.
Joren pulled.
Felicia was yanked forward violently.
Before she could recover—
An invisible fist slammed into her abdomen.
ORA!
Air exploded from her lungs.
Her body folded inward.
Acid burned in her throat.
Before she could collapse, Joren seized her wrist.
His grip was an iron vise.
"I don't usually hit women," he said evenly. "But that doesn't mean I won't."
A subtle vibration flowed from his fingers into her arm.
Her muscles spasmed.
Strength drained from her body.
Her legs trembled.
"Ugh… ah—!"
Pain surged through her nerves.
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Resistance shattered instantly.
His grip loosened slightly.
"Where is the gem?"
"I… sold it," she gasped, cold sweat forming.
Joren frowned.
Troublesome.
"Who bought it?"
"A man called Old Man… biggest black-market jeweler in Queens."
Her voice shook.
"Pawn shop on Jamaica Avenue. Looks ordinary. I can take you there. I can get it back—"
"No need."
He released her.
Felicia stumbled backward, clutching her wrist, shock filling her eyes.
Joren turned and walked to the rooftop edge.
Without ropes.
Without hesitation.
He stepped forward and disappeared into the darkness below.
Felicia rushed to the edge.
Nothing.
Gone.
She collapsed to her knees.
Her wrist throbbed.
Residual vibrations burned through her nerves.
Her breath came shallow and uneven.
"The Queen's Domain…"
Before that man…
she had been nothing more than prey.