Logan's words got the councilors buzzing. They stared at him, and more than a few lips twitched like they were dying to speak.
This was Zaun. And with Logan back, it felt like they'd found their backbone again.
Of course, that didn't mean Zaun had been doing poorly under Silco's rule. Whether it was before, now, or in the future, Silco would always be an important figure in Zaun. Most of Zaun's big and small affairs rarely passed through Logan's hands—they went through Silco's.
Politics, the economy, diplomacy, city-state construction—everything, big or small, was handled by Silco.
Because Logan simply wasn't suited to be an administrator.
Even so, Silco could never become Zaun's spiritual symbol. He didn't have Logan's charisma, and his image just didn't feel… positive enough.
But Logan?
Every Zaunite respected him, because he'd truly given wealth, dignity, and a future to Zaun. On him, titles like Zaun's eternal leader and the Lord of Zaun were never empty flattery from Zaunites.
A year was enough for many Zaunites to gradually return to normal life, but if there were ever a day held to commemorate the Lord of Zaun, they would pour into the streets on their own to remember Logan.
Because they knew exactly who had fought for the happiness they had now.
Zaunites didn't forget their roots.
They truly acknowledged Logan.
Logan looked at everyone watching him, smiled, and said, "Since you've already made your decision, then let's put it into action."
"No need to drag this out. Starting today, we announce my return to both cities. Every plan you didn't dare push, every plan you were afraid would get blocked—we start them all today."
Logan smiled, confidence written all over his face, and continued, "Everyone, you've worked hard this past year. Now I'm back. I'll be your blade—I'll cut through every obstacle for you. All you need to do is act. Any enemy you can't deal with, any problem you can't solve—leave it to me."
Vander heard that, looked at Logan, thought for a moment, and asked, "Logan… did you get stronger again?"
"Yeah. A lot stronger. The kind of stronger you can't even imagine."
"Put it this way, Vander—before, beating you took some effort. Now? I'm guessing even ten of you wouldn't be worth a single kick."
The increase in soul strength grew exponentially, not just as a simple linear stack. So even being a bit higher meant Logan became far, far stronger.
The thirty points of soul strength he had now didn't mean two fifteen-point Logans could handle it. If he had to say it, Logan felt like the current him could beat dozens of his old self.
He still remembered the time on the Noxian coastline in Ionia—one punch and he'd sunk a battleship dozens of meters long. Even he had been shocked by his own strength.
Holy crap, what am I now—some kind of One-Punch Man?!
Those ten years in Spirit Blossom had made him stronger by an absurd margin. So as long as no actual monster showed up in the Twin Cities, Logan could handle it.
And even if a monster did show up… so what? If they really forced his hand, he could just summon Ahri again. Noxus has gods now? Huh? Do they?
They really don't.
Demacia at least has celestial protection, but Noxus? Their only top-tier power is Swain and LeBlanc.
And in Logan's opinion—at least based on what he knew of their background—those two didn't have much in the way of direct combat feats. They were the "win with brains" types. So even if their fighting strength was high, it would at best barely reach demigod level.
Ahri, though?
Even among demigods, she was absolutely a powerhouse.
Not to mention Logan knew Kindred now, too.
Of course, Mordekaiser still deserved respect—but the problem was, if Mordekaiser ever came out, the first one he'd go after would be Noxus. Would Noxus really dare let Mordekaiser loose?
So yeah—Logan was feeling pretty bold.
As long as it wasn't some purple-skinned old guy or some tricked-out Poppy-level freak, Logan was willing to throw hands.
But after hearing Logan's words, Vander wasn't happy. He still thought he was strong—and the way Logan said it sounded awful.
What did he mean ten Vanders weren't worth a single kick?
Was he, Vander, some stray dog on the street?
With that thought, Vander stood up and walked over to Logan, stretching out a huge arm, sharp claws pointing toward him.
"Come on. Arm wrestle me. I want to see how strong you really are now," he said in a low voice.
Men had pride. That was just how it was.
The councilors got excited and stood up, eager to watch the two strongest fighters in Zaun.
Silco, meanwhile, shook his head in speechless resignation—and stood to give them room.
"Are you sure, Vander? If I don't use strength, it's fine. But if I do… I can't control it right now," Logan looked up at Vander and said, conflicted.
Even though a month had passed, Logan still didn't have perfect control over his body. Getting stronger had happened too suddenly, and when he fought, his strength could slip out of control. In daily life it was fine, but the moment he actually exerted himself, it got messy.
Vander didn't listen. He slapped his big hand down on the long council table.
Logan sighed and reached out.
Vander clenched his claws—his hand was five times the size of Logan's, too big to properly grip. So Logan braced with a fist against Vander's.
Then Vander started applying force, planning to "surprise" Logan and show him the wisdom of experience.
Arm wrestling wasn't just about raw strength—it was about technique. Logan might have more power, but Vander had natural advantages: he knew how to leverage force, and his posture was more comfortable and efficient.
But in the next instant, Vander poured everything he had into it—and as he watched Logan casually joking with Silco, terror filled his eyes.
It felt like his strength had been thrown into a swamp—swallowed whole, without even a ripple.
"Have we started?" Logan asked when he noticed Vander's expression looked off.
Vander bared his fangs and said heavily, "Heh. I was just letting you go first."
"Alright." Logan nodded.
Then Logan moved.
CRASH!
The long table exploded in an instant. Vander's arm twisted to a horrifying angle, while his body remained standing upright. He stared blankly at his mangled arm, then stared blankly at Logan.
"You've gotta be kidding me…" Vander muttered.
"Idiot. The cost of the table comes out of your pay," Silco said coldly.
Logan had fought off hundreds—maybe thousands—of Noxians alone on the coastline, sunk their warships, and even seized the largest one. Honestly, Silco didn't even dare imagine what level Logan's personal combat power had reached.
Silco was just an ordinary man, but that didn't stop him from understanding how terrifying Logan was.
But Vander?
Logan had warned him. And Vander still insisted on posturing for pride. Well, now look.
Injured. Humiliated. And his pay was getting docked.
Heh. Idiot.
On the third-floor corridor of the council building, Jinx had both hands on the railing, one leg in pants casually swung over the edge. She stared down at the view below, squinting as she tugged at a tuft of blue bangs, thinking about whether she should grow her hair out again.
Logan said she looked great with short hair too, but Jinx could tell—Logan seemed to like it more when it was long. He just respected her choice and never said anything about her cutting it.
Am I really prettier with long hair?
Hmm… wouldn't long hair look messy?
No, wait. I am cute. I am pretty.
Of course Logan likes me.
And honestly… long braids really are kind of my signature style.
Jinx narrowed her eyes, bored, resting her chin on her crossed arms. She yawned—and then suddenly saw something. Her eyelids twitched, and delight filled her big blue eyes.
Heh. I was getting bored—now the fun's here!
She looked down toward the entrance of the council building. Two Enforcers were standing there.
One with red hair, one with deep blue hair, chatting about something.
"Hey!"
Jinx waved and shouted down at them.
—
Under a tree outside the council building, Vi felt like she heard something, but it was too faint, so she ignored it and focused on Caitlyn in front of her.
Caitlyn wore a Piltover Enforcer uniform, looking sharp and heroic, standing ramrod straight in front of Vi. But her expression was hesitant as she asked, "So, Vi… will you go with me?"
"I'm not in the mood lately, Caitlyn. You know—my sister…" Vi shook her head.
She knew what Caitlyn meant, and Vi did feel that way about Caitlyn too.
But not right now.
"Okay. I'll wait. That's fine," Caitlyn nodded, understanding. She lowered her voice and continued, "But please don't blame yourself, Vi. This isn't your fault. It was your sister's choice. Sometimes… we can't be so arrogant."
"It was her decision. When she made it, she must've thought through the consequences—and she still chose it. You being sad is normal. But if you think it's because you didn't take care of her feelings well enough, and that's why she did it… that's you being arrogant."
"You're underestimating your sister, Vi."
Vi froze for a second, then said, "Caitlyn… has anyone ever told you you're really good at giving speeches?"
"My father has," Caitlyn smiled, brushing hair behind her ear. "He said I'm a lot like my mother."
Then her smile went stiff. Vi noticed Caitlyn's expression turn strange and waved a hand in front of her face. "What is it?"
"Y-your… your sis—your sis—" Caitlyn just babbled.
Vi blinked—and then felt a small hand land on her shoulder.
Next came a grinny, deliberately annoying voice, dragging out the tone like it was mocking her.
"Yo, Fat Hands—flirting with a cop again?"
"So focused you didn't even hear me calling you. And you said you cared about me—sheesh."
Vi spun around and saw Jinx leaning against her: one hand on Vi's shoulder, the other on her hip. Jinx blinked mischievously at her.
Vi snapped out of it, ecstatic. She whirled and wrapped both arms around Jinx's waist, lifting her clean off the ground as she shouted, "You're back?!"
Jinx froze. She'd thought Vi would start yelling at her—like, I'm not flirting with a cop, this is work, and then ramble off a whole lecture.
But Vi didn't. Vi hugged her.
And Vi was crying.
Seeing that, Jinx stopped teasing. She reached out and patted Vi's head. "Yeah, sis. I'm back."
"A-are you okay now? You won't… you won't—" Vi couldn't finish.
Because another voice cut in.
"Jinx, I'm done with the meeting. Jinx?"
The voice was calling for Jinx.
Vi followed it—and saw, at the third-floor railing of the Zaun council building, a black-haired young man looking down.
When Vi saw his face, her mouth fell open. Caitlyn wore the exact same expression beside her.
Jinx had already thumped Vi's shoulder, making her put her down.
Then Jinx jogged toward Logan. As she ran, she turned and ran backward, smiling brightly, bouncing as she waved a hand at Vi.
"Sis, come eat lunch at my place!"
"But you can't bring that cop!"
"I'm not acknowledging her yet!"
She pulled a face at Caitlyn.
That cop had come to Zaun to arrest her back then!
Jinx held grudges.
Logan vaulted the railing and dropped down from above, landing beside Jinx. He glanced at Vi and gave her a casual greeting.
Vi stood there with her mouth open, unable to get a single word out.
She had a thousand things she wanted to spit out, but… there were too many. For a moment, she didn't even know which one to say first.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, blurted it out immediately.
"Wasn't Logan dead?"
Watching Jinx and Logan walk away hand-in-hand, Caitlyn blinked.
Oh my god.
So Logan faked his death?
And Vi…?
Vi's mouth twitched. She lifted her head to the sky, took a deep breath, then clenched her fist.
"Caitlyn. I'm going to my sister's for lunch. Tonight, you put on something pretty—after my shift, I'm taking you to Piltover for a concert."
"Huh?" Caitlyn froze.
"Aren't we going?" Vi said, acting tough.
"W-we are! Of course we are!" Caitlyn hurriedly agreed.
Vi snorted inwardly.
Quit acting coy.
Like I'm the only one with someone.
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