As soon as Flynn vanished from the stage, Rita stepped into the spotlight, reclaiming her role as the festival's heartbeat."Well, that was a masterclass in drama, if I do say so myself!" she chirped into the mic. "But you know what else is top-tier? Lunchtime, baby! It’s time to raid the food stalls and see what Astras has to offer. Go get some skewers!"The crowd began to disperse, buzzing with excitement over the "stunning" special effects they’d just witnessed. Meanwhile, behind the heavy curtains, the atmosphere was far from celebratory. The background actors stood in confused clusters, whispering about the script's sudden, violent detour.Vincent, still in his waiter’s costume, did something that stunned everyone. He collapsed onto his knees in front of Mark and began to sob uncontrollably. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry!" he wailed, his tears streaking through his heavy cosplay makeup."What is he doing?" one of the actors whispe

The Astras Academy Grand Summer Festival finally drew to a close. While the audience buzzed with anticipation for a "Part 2" of the cosplay drama, no such performance existed. Flynn was forced to scramble for creative excuses to pacify the crowd.As the festival's grand finale, fireworks erupted overhead, painting the night sky in brilliant hues. Lilith seized the moment, pulling Mark into a romantic kiss amidst the throngs of people. Cameras flashed around them, capturing the public display of affection.Watching from the sidelines, Rita clearly burned with the desire to join in, but the social taboo of a sister passionately kissing her brother in public kept her at bay. In many ways, this was the realization of the reward Lilith had earned back at the ranch—uninterrupted time with Mark—only tonight, the clock ran far longer than thirty minutes that was promised back then. A look of genuine radiance washed over her face.As the crowd b

{Next Morning}Rita woke up in a state of uncharacteristic euphoria. It was obvious the moment Mark saw her in the kitchen; she was actually making breakfast—a chore she usually despised with every fiber of her being.She stood humming over the induction stove, briskly whisking a bowl of eggs."Morning, dear," she chirped. "How do you want your eggs? Fried? Boiled? Scrambled?"Mark groaned, barely lifting his eyes from his Royale Battle game. "You know I like ‘em fried. Why the sudden enthusiasm?"Rita gave a low, mischievous chuckle. "Personally? I like mine fertilized."Mark’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open for a beat before a grin broke across his face. "Oh... damn. That was a good one."Still giggling, Rita finished up the bacon and eggs and plated the food. As they sat down to eat, her expression turned gossipy. "Hey... do you think Mom is seeing someone?"Mark shrugged, already digging in. "I don't see how that's any of our business.""Come on, bro! Think about it," Rita

Xavier, Creative Director of the Throne Agency, had taken it upon himself to act as Mark’s personal coach for the day. It was a role he took with agonizing seriousness."Can we do something actually cool instead of just learning how to walk?" Mark complained. They had been at the same repetitive drill for nearly an hour.Xavier shook his head sharply. "Unless you nail the walk, you’ll never be a model. You’ll just be a guy in expensive clothes." He ignored Mark’s exaggerated sigh. "Try again. Confidence and control. Don't rush, don't lag, and for heaven's sake, don't be clumsy. It needs to be symmetrical, elegant... like you’re walking on water."Mark frowned. "Nobody walks on water elegantly. People drown.""Jesus walked on water!""Well, I’m not Jesus!" Mark shrugged, his patience fraying. "And I’m not walking in any damn water."Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a breath that suggested he was praying for strength. "It’s an expression. Now, walk."Mark tried to process

Neko fumed, her chest heaving with silent rage. She had never missed a jugular shot at that range—ever. The fact that Mark had caught the needle like he was bored made it feel like a personal insult.The room remained eerily quiet. Neither of them had breathed a word to the other. Mark continued his practice, his facial expressions a practiced icy composure. In his mind, he was already a superstar, successfully navigating the most intense "modeling test" in history.Neko, meanwhile, circled him like a predator. She was looking for the one thing every human had: a blind spot. But as she darted between the freestanding mirrors, she realized with growing dread that in this room of infinite reflections, Mark was seeing everything. Every time she thought she was behind him, a mirror caught her movement and fed it right back to his line of sight.She reached down and slipped off her stilettos. If there was one thing her Master had taught her, it was that an assassin’s surroundings were a to