*****At present, within the pitch-black, suffocating silence of the Watch Chamber, the Watchers remained unmoving, still fixed before the screen of life and death. Their stares were glassy. Unwavering. Not a single blink. Not a whisper.This was the rhythm of their existence.A maddening routine that would erode the mind of any ordinary soul. Yet these watchers were not ordinary.They had long surrendered the boundaries of sanity.Eyes rimmed red with exhaustion, they stood like statues beneath the ghostly glow of the pulse-monitor… a wall of cascading lights, every flicker and rise representing a soul still tethered to life.Time passed, but not for them.For these Watchers, time was an illusion. They only existed in a void between shifts, between life and death. They did not feel the passage of hours, the rising or setting of any sun. Only the changing of a shift allowed them to breathe… to blink… to remember they were still human.Then—Without warning, something shifted.

*****Gradually, the night clawed its way across the sky in slow, tense hours… thick with dread and heavy with unspoken fears.But as if the heavens themselves had grown weary, the first sliver of dawn finally pierced through the darkness like a divine blade, slicing the gloom open. Golden rays trickled in slowly at first, then surged forward, illuminating the world with a brilliance that felt both surreal and triumphant.And just like that, morning arrived.In Riverton City, a place that had quaked beneath the weight of something unnameable just hours before, the sun’s emergence felt like a miracle. As the light chased the shadows away, life returned with explosive vigor.The city practically sprang to its feet immediately. It was as if every soul had decided that sleep was a luxury for those who hadn’t glimpsed the end of the world the night before.The streets swelled with life… teeming, bustling, and overflowing. People spilled out of their homes, dormitories, slums, mansion

*****Everyone froze the moment they heard the Blackwood patriarch’s suggestion, the temperature in the room seeming to drop.For a moment, not a single soul could speak. Then—“I find it… suspicious too,” said a voice filled with careful curiosity. “Is it a mere coincidence that the clash took place on Myron’s land? Or… does he perhaps know these A-rank fighters personally?”The speaker was the patriarch of the Greystone family… one of the five first-rank families. His expression, though calm, showed cracks of unease.The room exhaled in collective tension at his words.But before they could think much… a voice, sharp, oily, and dripping with disdain spat. “What an absurd notion,” it rasped, low and malicious. “A mere second-rank family, fraternizing with not one, but two A-rank powerhouses?”Heads turned slowly toward the speaker.The speaker was the Revercrest patriarch, who was cloaked in an eerie atmosphere, his presence unsettling as ever.Brows furrowed across the ta

*****On the other end of the table, the Revercrest patriarch’s eyes narrowed. His aura, already grim, began to ripple with cold energy.“Oh?” he drawled, his voice tinged with venom. “So now it’s a crime to demand answers? Are you suggesting we should just overlook betrayal? That we should pretend one of our own didn’t just stab us in the back?”The shadows around him thickened, curling like mist. His irritation wasn’t subtle.While no one else spoke aloud, it was obvious from their expressions that they were with him. Heads nodded. Eyes sharpened.Even without a single vote cast, the room was turning against the Prime Minister.But the old man simply smiled.Not mockingly or with anger—just a small, knowing twitch at the corners of his lips.“I never said you shouldn’t demand answers,” he replied smoothly. Then, with deliberate emphasis, he added, “You absolutely should. After all… betrayal deserves to be exposed.”He dragged the word betrayal like silk over thorns… sarcast

*****Xavier made up his mind, but before he could take two steps, however, the front door creaked open again.He turned… and what he saw left his mouth ajar.There she was again… Little Lola.She excitedly entered the room, but unlike before, this time around, she was hauling… that’s right.She was hauling in a gargantuan duffel bag that looked like it weighed twice as much as she did. She pulled the bag behind her as though it were nothing more than a balloon, her determination fierce.Xavier’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.“What in the world is that?” he asked, genuinely alarmed.Little Lola gave him a look. The kind of look adults reserve for clueless grown-ups. “Little Lola’s beautiful monsters, of course,” she replied with utter seriousness.Xavier stared at the massive bag. 'That’s more than a toy box. That’s a mobile zoo.'Without waiting for further instructions, Little Lola yanked the zipper open, revealing a vibrant cascade of… chaos.Stuffed toy