“Nothing on our end.”
“We didn’t find anything either.”
“Same here.”
“Let’s head back to the academy to regroup first.”
All three teams finished searching their assigned spatial bubbles without finding a single clue, deciding to return to Twelve Zodiac Academy to compare notes.
Jing Pei, Chu Xusheng, and Dark Cloud had been assigned the farthest bubbles, making them the last to return. Before heading into the private dining room, Jing Pei stopped by the restroom to wash her hands, spotting Jiang Qing in the hallway.
A small crowd of young women surrounded Jiang Qing, stuffing gifts into his arms. Knowing his team was out on an official mission with little time for meals, a few had even brought homemade bento boxes.
“Thanks, but like I said before, please don’t send these anymore. I really don’t need anything,” Jiang Qing said politely. Under his calm attitude was a gentle, easygoing charm, with sharp, classic features. He looked just like the polite top student everyone admired, the kind that people of all ages looked up to.
He had built a loyal group of followers at Twelve Zodiac Academy. These fans felt very protective of him, especially when others tried to bully him, which only made them like him even more.
Noticing Jing Pei’s arrival, Jiang Qing turned his gaze toward her. The girls, who had been chatting like excited fans, suddenly grew timid. Feeling self-conscious under Jing Pei’s eyes, they scattered down the hall in pairs and trios.
Silence settled over the corridor.
“You certainly have good fortune with the ladies, Senior Jiang,” Jing Pei teased with a light chuckle.
“What fortune?”
“Having so many girls fond of you—if that’s not good fortune, what is?” She glanced at the gifts in his arms, noting a few luxury brand logos among them.
Jiang Qing offered a subtle smile before shifting the topic. “Now that we’ve checked every target bubble without any luck, I’ve come up with a new thought. I wonder if Young Heir Long would be interested in hearing it?”
“Isn’t that what we’re about to discuss in our meeting?”
“Only because I suspect Young Heir Long might not want me bringing it up in front of the others.”
Jing Pei paused in her tracks, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “How intriguing. Go on, let’s hear it.”
“The most dangerous place is often the safest place. Do you think it’s possible they’re hiding inside a bubble controlled by the Tribunal Division? Say, the one under Officer Mei Yanlan’s supervision?” His dark, sharp eyes locked onto Jing Pei, searching every detail of her face for any flicker of reaction.
But Jing Pei’s face didn’t change at all, like his words didn’t affect her in the slightest. Jiang Qing’s eyes narrowed just a little.
“Why the one under Mei Yanlan?” Jing Pei asked.
“Mei Yanlan is one of the top fighters at the Tribunal Division headquarters, and her team is made up of elite Atavist special forces. Everyone assumes her circles are the most tightly guarded. But actually, during the last incident with her, she owed thanks to both you and that info broker. Also, when Director Qiu couldn’t catch those two mercenaries, it was probably because that same broker got in the way. With so many connections, it’s hard not to see what’s really going on.”
Jing Pei nodded in apparent realization. “I see. So, assuming your theory holds true, why are you telling me this now? Are you hoping to strike a deal?”
“I want to know what that information broker is planning,” Jiang Qing said.
Ever since the Bubble 109 incident, the organization had failed to discover that he was the one who leaked the passcode. Yet the broker had demanded he hand it over, leaving him on edge for days as he waited for her phone call and her demands. That call had never come. Now, he wanted to seize this chance to turn defense into offense.
If Long Jin and the information broker were truly allies, Long Jin would understand exactly what he meant.
The broker was hiding those two mercenaries to extract a far greater profit than what Emperor Orpheus offered for their return. Therefore, this trade stood a high chance of working.
Compared to the organization’s funding, his own safety and personal interests naturally took priority.
Yet Jing Pei simply smiled. “Senior Jiang must be joking. The broker and I have nothing more than a standard business relationship. If you have a grudge with her, you’ll need to settle it yourselves. I don’t act as a middleman.”
With that, Jing Pei turned on the faucet and washed her hands, leaving Jiang Qing standing in place as his expression darkened.
Watching her back, he pulled out his phone to message the organization. Fine. If she didn’t care, she couldn’t blame him for what came next.
He typed out the location, his finger hovering over the send button.
“Senior Wu Ying!” A voice echoed from the end of the hall as Wu Ying walked toward the restrooms.
Jiang Qing’s finger froze over the screen.
“Senior Wu Ying is probably the most eager of us to finish this mission,” Jing Pei said casually. “If the central government seals this deal with the Kingdom of Pymeshire, it’ll be a big boost for our country’s well-being. The Wu family has always been the most patriotic and responsible among the Atavist clans. After all, several generations of their family leaders have married military officers.”
Not many people knew that during the 8.20 Conference, it wasn’t just Wu Ying who backed the reform—her father secretly voted for it too. This father and daughter were basically seen as “traitors” hiding among the Atavist clans, even within their own family.
Because one appeared rough and careless while the other seemed proud and sharp, both straightforward and lacking cunning, none of the other clans suspected a thing.
Thus, Wu Ying was putting the most effort into this assignment.
Jiang Qing’s eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. He shot a sharp look at Jing Pei, then reluctantly deleted the text he was just about to send. Heading into the men’s room, he threw all the gifts he was holding into the trash—a move he clearly had done many times before.
By the time he returned to the private room, everyone had assembled. Having smoothed over his emotions, he took his seat quietly.
Then he heard Jing Pei speak up. “Now that everyone’s here, I have an idea. The targets are definitely hiding inside a spatial bubble, but we couldn’t find them. The only logical reason is that we’re looking in the wrong bubbles. The most dangerous place is often the safest. Let’s change our usual way of thinking—what if we check the bubbles controlled by the Tribunal Division?”
Jiang Qing snapped his head toward Jing Pei.
Jing Pei continued in a calm tone, “Specifically, the one under Officer Mei Yanlan’s care seems most suspicious.”
Mei Yanlan stood at the edge of the cliff, her fiery red hair blowing in the wind. A thin wisp of smoke drifted from the cigarette resting between her red lips as her narrowed eyes scanned the sky above the ravine. Hidden there was an invisible dimension.
She personally oversaw this spatial bubble. Anyone seeking entry needed her explicit authorization, unless it was Director Qiu himself.
Which was why she had received a formal request moments ago.
The application came from Twelve Zodiac Academy’s elite team, bearing the name “Long Jin” among the applicants.
“What the…” Mei Yanlan muttered, running a hand through her thick hair. Jing Pei had hidden two people inside, and now she was leading a team to search it—without giving her any prior instructions. That meant Jing Pei expected her to approve the request and hand over the key.
So, was she planning to hand over those two mercenaries after all?
“Whatever. Not my business,” Mei Yanlan murmured to herself, stubbing out her cigarette before turning to leave.
Still, she hesitated, delaying a bit longer to see if Jing Pei had any secondary arrangements—like having Jin Ji relocate them. Yet night fell without a single message from Jing Pei.
So she approved the request and surrendered the key.
Lolita’s hand trembled, sending a plate shattering against the floor. An overwhelming sense of dread suddenly gripped her heart, as if an ominous shadow was creeping near.
“Sweetheart?” Seeing her face drain of color, Isaac immediately dropped the laundry he was hanging and rushed to her side.
“I… I have a bad feeling,” Lolita whispered, gripping his hand tightly. “Promise me something.”
“We’ll be fine. Don’t scare yourself.”
“No, promise me. I’m the one they want. If we can’t escape together, you run on your own.”
“What are you saying? How could I ever leave you behind?”
“Listen to me! If I’m caught, I might not die. But if you’re caught, you’ll be executed for sure. That bastard won’t let you live—he values his pride above all else. If you escape, we still have a chance. I’ll still have hope. Do you understand?” In that instant, the bubbly demeanor faded from Lolita’s face, replaced by a profound maturity, as if the battle-worn soul of Queen Cecilia had returned to this young body.
Isaac looked into her anxious eyes and soothed her gently, “I understand. Nothing will happen to us.”
“I’m scared… my love, nothing can happen to you,” Lolita sobbed, throwing herself into his arms like a young girl once more. “I dragged you into this mess. If anything happens to you, I won’t survive either.”
Her tears were completely real, full of deep, gentle love with no hint of lying.
That previous escape involving her entire family had been brutally difficult, despite months of quiet preparation by her parents.
They had assumed that by the time Emperor Orpheus noticed their absence, they would already be outside the borders of Pymeshire. Even if he discovered it early, escaping shouldn’t have been impossible—after all, he would never make a public spectacle out of it. He hated even the mention of a divorce scandal, so he certainly wouldn’t broadcast the news of his queen fleeing with their child.
But they were seriously wrong.
Emperor Orpheus had been consumed by rage. He mobilized the nation’s entire police force and military apparatus, sealing the borders completely. Every airship and sea vessel was ordered to ground. Anyone attempting to use privileges or high status to bypass the blockade was detained on the spot. He was willing to pay any price to drag them back.
In public, he announced that the queen had been kidnapped, calling upon the entire populace to monitor their surroundings and report anything suspicious.
The eyes of the entire world turned to Pymeshire. That day, international networks were flooded with news regarding Queen Cecilia’s abduction.
“My goodness, what a fairytale romance!”
“I’m crying! He loves her so much!”
“May the Queen remain safe! I curse those kidnappers!”
“Everyone, check nearby vacant houses! The kidnappers might be hiding among us!”
“God bless Queen Cecilia. Please bring her home safely!”
Sirens blared across every city as troops locked down every exit from the country. Atavists of every discipline pushed their abilities to the limit to track down the queen’s whereabouts.
Amid such a massive, nationwide hunt, an infant’s cry—too young to understand the danger, acting purely on instinct—finally exposed their location.
Inside the quiet palace hall, everyone had been dismissed save for a single captain of the guard, who stood like a silent ghost in the background.
Queen Cecilia trembled violently, gazing in terror at the man stepping slowly toward her.
“Look at the state of you,” Emperor Orpheus mocked with a cold smile, reaching out to lift a strand of her sweat-dampened golden hair. “Where is the dignity of a queen now?”
“What will you do? Kill me?” Queen Cecilia backed away, her voice laced with desperate bravado.
“You are my wife. Why would I ever kill you?”
“Are you going to kill my parents then? They have committed no crime! They are your in-laws! If you harm them, what will the public think?!”
Since he claimed she had been kidnapped, accusing her parents of the crime would invite public suspicion. Harmed without cause, the outrage would be even worse.
Emperor Orpheus looked at her as if viewing a naive child, a trace of pity touching his face. “How about this? Your father fathered a Nightmare Atavist with a non-Atavist woman, yet hid your identity out of fear that your ability to alter minds and personalities would spark distrust. What if I married you because I was under your mental control? What if you’ve manipulated numerous ministers as well?”
Queen Cecilia stared at him in utter disbelief, horrified by his shameless malice. Her teeth chattered, and her fists clenched so hard her palms bled.
“And all of this stems from your parents’ boundless ambition. Yet because I am bound by your power and cannot bear to lose you, I must keep you by my side. As for your parents and your clan… every single one of them deserves death.”
“…What must I do for you to spare them?”
“Kneel,” Emperor Orpheus ordered, his face suddenly turning cold and hard.
Trembling in humiliation, Queen Cecilia slowly sank her knees to the floor before him. Tears streamed from her closed eyes, and crimson blood trickled from her bitten lip.
That kneeling went on for a long time. Noriana made sure to come by and enjoy the show, sitting on the throne next to Emperor Orpheus as they cuddled closely. Servants and guards walked through the hall, and though none dared to look up, she felt like she was being burned alive at the stake.
She knew this was a punishment designed to break her spine, forcing her to learn obedience and submission.
Three days later, the man finally granted her permission to rise. “Be a good girl. Do not let this happen a second time. Otherwise, I will force you to watch every member of your clan die without a whole corpse.”
“Yes.”
“Now go bathe. I will be waiting for you in bed.”
“Yes.”
Everything appeared to return to normal. The beloved Queen Cecilia and Emperor Orpheus remained deeply in love in the eyes of the public. Even if the queen smiled less than before, people assumed motherhood had made her more mature, or that she was still recovering from the trauma of her abduction. With Emperor Orpheus’s devotion, surely she would emerge from the shadows soon enough.
No one knew what was really going on behind those palace walls. Lady Noriana acted like she was the true mistress of the palace, roaming wherever she wanted. Everything she wore—her dresses, her necklaces—was flashier and more expensive than the queen’s. She even claimed gifts that were originally given to Queen Cecilia by foreign tribes or nations.
If Noriana wanted them, Emperor Orpheus would strip them away and hand them to her, even if they were already hanging around the queen’s neck.
But Queen Cecilia no longer cared about any of it and grew more and more numb. Her final emotional breakdown came years later, caused by the lasting trauma of that failed escape and years of endless longing for her lost daughter. Her health got worse, and her parents died one after another soon after.
During her darkest hour, the mysterious paper slips returned, accompanied by a jar of candies and a small figure molded from clay.
The candies were a specialty from her hometown, something she had loved since childhood. The clay emitted the distinct fragrance of sweetbell wood—a scent formed by unique minerals in the soil that could never be replicated in perfume. As a child, she used to play in the mud just to smell it.
She hadn’t tasted those candies in years, nor had she smelled that scent in a long time.
During her most despairing days, those mysterious notes had comforted her, bringing small tokens from her homeland, including her parents’ final letters to her.
[Who are you?]
[Why are you helping me like this?]
[Can we meet?]
[I’m so sad. Please comfort me again.]
She began leaving notes in return, attempting to start a conversation. The slips always vanished while she slept, though most received no written reply. Only when she begged for comfort would a new slip appear alongside some clumsy little trinket.
Those trinkets felt odd and awkward, bringing to mind a romantic figure wrapped in a black cloak who seemed a bit foolish.
In a dark, cold world, a faint light suddenly broke through. Every day, she looked forward to finding a new note in her room. Seeing one made her smile without meaning to. She would write back, complaining about how useless Noriana was for never taking her place after all these years, or sharing her joy about her little son learning to ride a bike…
She didn’t know who he was, whether he was handsome or plain, male or female. None of it mattered. She accepted him completely, falling deeply in love with this mysterious presence.
In that freezing palace, he and her child were her only lifelines, the only warmth she had left.
[I want to see you.]
[You’re so capable, why won’t you show yourself? Or can we meet in a dream?]
[I love you.]
Her confession seemed to startle him. As if panicked, he fled without a trace, and she received no more notes for a long time.
One day, thinking about her mysterious lover, she couldn’t help but smile. Emperor Orpheus saw her smile and suddenly flew into a strange rage. He searched her chambers frantically and questioned every guard and maid like she was hiding another man in the palace.
Queen Cecilia paid him no mind. Loving someone, even without a response, brought a sense of genuine joy. Even sharing a bed with Emperor Orpheus became less painful, for whenever she closed her eyes, she imagined the man touching her was her secret lover, finding a fleeting moment of solace.
For reasons she didn’t understand, her silence made Emperor Orpheus angry, and when she finally responded with passion, it made him even more furious. The palace staff kept changing, growing in number, keeping her under constant surveillance as if terrified she would meet a lover in secret.
“Who is he?!” One day, he finally snapped, his eyes bloodshot as his hands choked her neck.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are we doing this or not? If not, get out.”
“Listen to me! You are my wife! You must remain faithful to me! You can only love me! Who is that man?!”
“Bah!”
Queen Cecilia spat directly into his face. Keeping a mistress inside the palace while sleeping with countless women outside, yet expecting his wife to remain faithful—what a delusion!
Provoked beyond endurance, Emperor Orpheus tightened his grip on her throat. Unable to bear it, Queen Cecilia shoved him with all her strength, sending him tumbling off the bed.
Ever present like a phantom, the quiet captain of the guard stepped forward instantly, helping Emperor Orpheus to his feet.
Queen Cecilia hadn’t cared at first, but the moment he reached out to support the emperor, her nose caught a faint, barely perceptible scent.
It was so subtle that if she hadn’t been an Atavist, intimately familiar with that scent since childhood, she would never have noticed it.
It was the smell of sweetbell wood mixed with fermented earth.
Queen Cecilia stared intently at the armor-clad man whose face remained completely hidden. In an instant, everything clicked into place.
How he knew Emperor Orpheus’s movements and plans so well… how he always anticipated her needs… how her baby had been smuggled out years ago… It was because he was right beside Emperor Orpheus! Every piece of information from her monitors was funneled directly to him before he reported to the emperor.
Emperor Orpheus’s most trusted confidant, the loyal captain of the guard whom she had been forced to stand beside during her first great humiliation, was her mysterious lover.
[Caspian, is it you?]
[I asked around in people’s dreams about your abilities. You never disclosed everything to the emperor, did you? No one knows you can teleport items and yourself through water. If Orpheus finds out, you’ll be in grave danger. But don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.]
[Come see me. Otherwise, the next time Emperor Orpheus comes, I’ll call out your name right in front of him.]
[I’m just joking. How could I ever put you in harm’s way? I love you. I’d rather hurt myself than let you suffer. Come see me. No one else will ever know. Don’t you love me too?]
The slips disappeared every time she slept, yet brought no reply.
The willful nature she had been spoiled with in her youth began to revive. Love reignited her vitality, allowing her to bloom once more. When she loved someone, she pursued them relentlessly.
Yet Caspian stayed loyal to Emperor Orpheus. No matter what she wrote, he didn’t act. She even openly defied Emperor Orpheus to make him call Caspian into the room, standing by the bed while she watched him from behind the emperor’s back, trying to get a reaction.
Under her relentless advance, Caspian retreated step by step. Finally, when she threatened to harm herself, he was driven into a corner and showed himself before her.
“Have you not learned your lesson, Your Majesty? No man is worth this,” a masculine voice echoed from beneath the helmet, far more pleasant than she had imagined, though stern in tone.
“You brought this on yourself for refusing to see me!” she pouted playfully, stepping closer.
Caspian retreated instantly. “Your Highness, do not take such risks.”
She was the queen of the nation, watched at every moment. Furthermore, the world was not fair to women—the emperor could take countless mistresses, but a queen could take no lovers. Emperor Orpheus possessed a suffocating possessiveness over her; if this was exposed, she would be ruined beyond repair.
“Are you worrying about me, or worrying about yourself?” Queen Cecilia asked.
Caspian remained silent, refusing any physical contact. For every step she advanced, he took a step back. If she pushed further, he looked ready to dive into the fish tank to escape.
Queen Cecilia puffed her cheeks in frustration.
Yet once a door was opened, it could not easily be shut. After that first meeting, she often forced him to meet her again. If he refused, she threatened to go on a hunger strike, cry through the night, or cause a scene—and her tactics succeeded every time.
Gradually, she finally touched his hand, lifted his helmet, and saw his face. He was handsome, with pale skin from years away from the sun, deep green eyes, a high nose bridge, and a few years younger than her.
It was precisely because he had been so young back then that, after revealing Emperor Orpheus’s true colors to her, seeing her heartbreak made him feel he had committed a grave error, prompting him to confess to the emperor in a panic—never imagining that Orpheus had never intended to hide it in the first place.
“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” she said suddenly. Those eyes looked a bit familiar.
And she truly had seen him.
Back then, Caspian had been a thirteen-year-old prince from a minor tribe in Pymeshire. A severe earthquake and torrential rain had devastated his homeland, claiming his mother’s life.
Overwhelming grief and days of high fever had nearly taken his life as well.
Amid a relentless nightmare, he had suddenly seen a hand sweep aside the dark clouds, bringing a refreshing breeze. He was swept into a breathtaking dream that washed away his sorrow. When he awoke, his fever had broken, and his grief felt lighter.
A strange young girl in a bright red dress sat by his bedside, waking up at the same time. Thinking she was a maid, he told her to fetch water and wipe his face with a towel. The girl opened her eyes wide, a playful spark shining in her gaze as she followed every order.
Only later did he learn she was Princess Cecilia, recently betrothed to Prince Orpheus, visiting on behalf of the royal family to deliver relief supplies.
That was the first time he had seen Princess Cecilia and Prince Orpheus. Amid the flashing cameras of the media, the radiant princess in red and the handsome prince held hands, their eyes filled with affection like a match made in heaven.
“Little prince, how are you feeling? Want me to wash your face for you?” The princess had leaned down with a cute pair of tiger fangs, reminding him of a playful little animal.
He was grumpy back then, stuck in a wheelchair and fiercely proud. Feeling humiliated, he slapped her hand away from his head. “Don’t touch my head! I hate people who don’t respect boundaries!”
“Why are you so rude, little brother?” The princess was naturally mischievous, grabbing him into her arms and rubbing his head like dough. “Do you know who I am? I’ll rub your head all I want! What are you going to do about it? Talking to me about boundaries—show some gratitude!”
Save… save me!
“Alright, Cecilia,” Prince Orpheus had rescued him from her grip with a soft smile. “Stop teasing him, darling. Mind your manners.”
Their paths had crossed only briefly back then, with no one predicting what lay ahead. He remained a minor prince doing his duty, occasionally seeing Princess Cecilia and Prince Orpheus on television.
It took Queen Cecilia a long time to dig up that blurred memory of the young boy from her past.
“You… weren’t you a prince? Why did you enter the palace as a guard?”
It wasn’t uncommon for tribal princes or nobles to serve as royal guards—it was considered an honor. But usually, heirs to a tribe were exempt, and she vaguely remembered he had been an heir.
“Because my father committed a grave crime, implicating our entire clan. I was sentenced to twenty years of penal servitude as a slave.”
This was a unique law in Pymeshire—serious offenders were often sentenced to slavery for different lengths of time.
Because Caspian possessed a rare Atavist ability that could restore youth, Emperor Orpheus valued him. Combined with his own relentless effort, he had risen through the ranks in a short time.
In those early years, he underwent monthly loyalty evaluations. His ascension to captain of the guard proved his absolute devotion beyond doubt.
“Twenty years? What kind of crime?” Queen Cecilia wrapped her arms around his stiff, tense neck, her voice soft and gentle. His heart was pounding fast, but he still held back his feelings for her—so stubborn and frustrating.
He caught her wandering hands at the back of his neck, soaked in sweat. His dark green eyes locked onto hers with a fierce intensity, as if holding back a dangerous beast inside.
“Many years ago, about two years after that earthquake, my father wrote love letters to a royal consort who was seen as a ‘living god.’ He confessed his love and committed adultery, which was a crime of sacrilege. Are you trying to make me do the same, piling sin on sin?”
Queen Cecilia froze for a moment before pulling him down even harder. Her eyes burned with a fierce, desperate light. “What if I say yes? If the road ahead leads straight to hell, I want you to drag me down with you.”
Her tone was so harsh, yet her trembling pupils betrayed her fragile fear of him running away.
In the long, heavy silence, only the frantic thumping of their hearts echoed in the room. Then, with a soft sigh of surrender, he murmured, “As Your Majesty wishes.”
The beast caged for so long was finally set free.
