Endless Sea, late autumn.
Sunset spilled through the manor’s skylight, turning the stairwell the color of honey. Ethan Vale sat on the steps with his elbows on his knees, letting the chatter upstairs wash over him.
People really did live in different worlds. He was busy worrying about whether his next step would get him killed, and everyone else was laughing like they had tomorrow guaranteed.
Footsteps padded down behind him.
Yanyan Huang dropped onto the step beside him, leaned in, and whispered like she’d uncovered state secrets.
“So… Level nine hundred?”
Ethan’s shoulders went tight. “Keep your voice down.”
“Relax. No one’s listening.” Her eyes were bright with a kind of giddy disbelief. “Nine hundred. That’s higher than Greedwolf. What even are you?”
He stared at the sunlit wall ahead of them. “It’s not something I want advertised.”
Yanyan studied him for a beat, then sighed. “Okay. Fair. But now you have to answer me: how did you know about my… thing?”
Ethan blinked. “Your thing?”
She lowered her voice further. “The mind-reading skill.”
Ethan’s silence lasted a half second too long.
Yanyan’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me you have it too.”
“I do.” He rubbed his brow. “Unlocked it around the same point you did, I think.”
“And you never said anything?”
“I don’t use it,” Ethan said. “I didn’t think you did either.”
Yanyan snorted. “I hate using it. It feels gross. It’s not like I can pull clear sentences out of someone’s head anyway. It’s more like… ripples. Intent. Pressure. Enough to tell if someone’s lying, or if they’re about to do something vicious.”
Ethan let out a quiet breath. “So you can’t just dig up secrets.”
“No,” Yanyan said, almost offended. “I can’t open your diary. And I wouldn’t. Aum practically yelled at me the first time he found out. He said invading someone’s thoughts is worse than stealing their wallet.”
“Aum gave you that lecture too?” Ethan’s mouth twitched.
“He made me promise I wouldn’t do it casually.” Yanyan crossed her arms. “He even said some people’s heads are like poison. You look once and it sticks.”
Ethan nodded. “That’s… exactly why I stopped.”
Yanyan tilted her head. “You tried it?”
“Once.” Ethan thought of the first target he’d tested it on—an innocent dock mutt that had wandered too close. “On a dog.”
Yanyan stared. “You read a dog’s mind?”
“It was an experiment.”
“And?”
“Ninety percent ‘food.’ Ten percent ‘food again.’” Ethan shrugged. “After that, I decided I didn’t need to know what was in anyone’s head.”
Yanyan’s elbow slammed into his ribs. “Did you just compare me to a dog?”
“What? No. I’m saying the skill itself is—”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Ethan rubbed the spot, but the corner of his mouth lifted despite himself. The moment of humor faded fast, though, because the real question was still sitting between them.
“That’s why I was wary of Greedwolf,” Ethan said quietly. “I used Mind Reading on him once. Just a touch.”
Yanyan’s expression sharpened. “And?”
“And it wasn’t a person,” Ethan said. “It was hunger. Violence. Like his head was nothing but knives. After that, I stopped pretending he was someone we could trust.”
Yanyan looked away toward the upstairs landing, eyes narrowing. “So you’ve been carrying that alone this whole time.”
“I didn’t have proof,” Ethan said. “And even if I did… it’s not a skill I want to rely on.”
Yanyan hummed, half irritated, half understanding. “Fine. But next time, tell me. I’d rather be annoyed at you than blindsided.”
Ethan nodded once. “Deal.”
The sun outside dropped lower. Late-autumn wind sighed against the glass.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Then Yanyan broke the silence, voice quieter than before.
“Ethan. When we kill Nightmare… you’ll be Level Four.”
His fingers curled against his knee. “I know.”
Yanyan frowned. “Isn’t that good?”
“That’s what scares me,” Ethan said. “We don’t know what ‘Level Four’ actually means. The Seven Gods are Level Four. The Creator God is Level Four. That’s not a coincidence.”
Yanyan’s gaze held his. She didn’t flinch from the words.
Ethan continued, slow and careful. “Level Three is still human. You can hide. You can be ignored. But Level Four… maybe you become part of the board. Maybe you become visible in a way you can’t take back.”
Yanyan’s hand tightened around her sleeve. “Then we don’t step over that line blind.”
“Which means Nightmare first,” Ethan said.
“And the Scarlet Nun,” Yanyan added. “Then we free the Dream God. Once the Dream God is awake, we deal with New Star and Greedwolf.”
Ethan studied her profile. Stubborn. Reckless. Unreasonably brave.
He’d seen that kind of resolve get people killed.
He’d also seen it drag them back from the edge.
“Alright,” he said. “We do it your way.”
Yanyan bumped his shoulder, gentler this time. “Good. And don’t spring ‘Level 900’ on me again. My heart can’t take it.”
Ethan huffed a laugh. “Noted.”
…
Yanyan returned to her room as evening settled over the forest manor. The place was quiet now, the earlier noise draining away like tidewater.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Xueyu slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. She looked like she’d rehearsed her first sentence ten times and still hated it.
Yanyan straightened. “What’s wrong?”
Xueyu took a breath. “Ethan talked to me today. He… didn’t say everything, but he said enough that I think you should know what I’ve heard about your dad.”
Yanyan’s stomach dipped. “Say it.”
“I only have fragments,” Xueyu said quickly. “But I heard your father got involved with a merfolk deal. It went bad. And he ended up owing Mr. Warner.”
Yanyan’s eyes narrowed. “Warner… the information broker?”
Xueyu nodded. “Aum mentioned him. Said he has influence even in the player world. And when someone owes Warner, it isn’t always just money.”
Yanyan’s throat went dry. “You mean a contract.”
“A leash,” Xueyu said softly. “Aum thinks your father’s soul might be tangled up in it.”
For a moment, Yanyan couldn’t find air. Then she forced it back into her lungs.
“He wouldn’t sell me out,” she said, more to herself than to Xueyu. “He’s still my dad.”
“I believe he loves you,” Xueyu said. “In both worlds. That part feels real.”
Yanyan looked up sharply. “In both worlds?”
Xueyu’s smile was faint. “It’s hard to fake that kind of love. Not everyone has it.”
She didn’t say the name, but Yanyan heard it anyway.
Shia.
Xueyu hesitated, then added, “Speaking of… Shia asked me something earlier.”
Yanyan’s head snapped up. “What?”
“She asked what happened back when I stayed at Ethan’s place.” Xueyu’s tone was innocent, but her eyes were gleaming with mischief.
Yanyan froze. “You stayed with Ethan?”
“It was temporary.” Xueyu waved a hand. “Don’t make it weird. Anyway, she looked… curious.”
Curious.
Or jealous.
Yanyan felt a strange mix of amusement and irritation. “So what did you tell her?”
Xueyu smiled like a cat that had found cream. “Nothing. Yet.”
Yanyan groaned. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m a professional,” Xueyu said brightly. “And you, Miss Huang, should sleep. Tomorrow will be busy.”
After Xueyu left, Yanyan stared at the closed door and let the warning settle in her chest like a stone.
Her father. Mr. Warner. And somewhere in this manor, a black dragon who didn’t trust her.
What even was this mess?