The Exalted One raised his hand as if he were about to remove his mask, and Dixon watched every movement without blinking. But in the next second… It was not the sound of mask clasps that echoed. It was the thud of the pier floor as the Exalted One shot forward, his body turning into a black blur that was almost invisible. In a single blink, he was already right in front of Dixon. The attack came like an arrow fired from one inch away, a straight punch aimed at Dixon’s heart, fast, aggressive, and without hesitation. For weeks, the Exalted One had vanished from the underground world. No news, no reports, not a single trace. Dixon knew he went to train, but he never expected it to be this extreme. Rumor had it that the Exalted One climbed the Northern Mountains, a place where only a few people could survive the freezing cold that could bite through bone. There he honed his skills until the cliff walls were covered with the marks of his fists. He returned with a single purpose:

Dixon clenched his fists, the veins in his arms tightening. “For six months I carried out that mission, tracing the southern plains, the west, even the borders of the northern lands. I returned to Master Takeda to report that I had failed.” His eyes dimmed. His voice turned bitter. “But when I came home, my master was already gone. He left no message. No trace. No one knew where he went," said Dixon. Ren grinned with cruel delight. Dixon lowered his head slightly, and for the first time since the fight began, his voice trembled. “Because I was searching for you, I lost my master,” Dixon said. The coastal wind swept across them, carrying the salty smell mixed with blood. “People said he was meditating in untouched mountains,” Dixon continued. “But I know that is not true. He would never leave without a reason. He would never leave without telling us.” He stared at Ren with eyes that almost burned. “I have searched for him until today. I even stationed my men in the

That night, the house felt much quieter than usual. Yet it also felt more romantic. Dixon had just finished showering with Diana, both of them still warm and damp, their hair dripping with tiny beads of water, their skin feeling fresh. Dixon wore a towel wrapped around his waist, and Diana was covered with a thin towel that wrapped around her small figure. Diana looked at him with a soft smile, her cheeks blushing after the bath. Dixon leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching Diana towel off her damp skin. Steam curled around her silhouette, softening the edges of her body in the golden light. She caught his gaze in the mirror, lips quirking. “Enjoying the view?” He crossed the room in two strides, fingers hooking into the edge of her towel. “Not yet.” With a slow tug, the fabric pooled at her feet. Diana shivered, not from cold, but from the way his eyes darkened as they traced her bare curves. Dixon’s palm slid up her waist, thumb brushing the undersid