Today was going to be a day to be remembered for Dennis Lawson. A student who had always been ridiculed and laughed at, Dennis watched as most of the students walked straight into the auditorium, whispering and talking in jest. The auditorium had never been this full. Students filled every seat. Teachers stood along the walls. Even members of the board were present. These were people who never showed up unless money or prestige was involved. And today? It was both. Dennis Lawson stood backstage, his fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his presentation file. His gaze scanned the number of people in front of him. In fright, he wiped the sweat gathering on his chin. He could hear their murmurs, excitement, and anticipation. For once… it wasn’t about Jack Voss. "Dennis," a voice called from behind him. He turned sharply. Professor Hale, a man in his early forties, stood behind him, arms folded, his expression unreadable as always. "It's time,” the professor said. De

A sweet fragrance drifted into Dennis’s nose. His senses felt sharper—too sharp. Even the softness of the pillow beneath his head sent an unfamiliar chill down his spine, like his body no longer recognized comfort. The air smelled clean and expensive, carrying a faint scent of cologne and polished wood. His eyes snapped open. “Where… am I?” The words came out strained as he pushed himself upright from the bed. His movements were unsteady, his breathing uneven. The room was massive, clean, and luxurious. Everything about it screamed wealth. Dark marble floors reflected the morning light spilling through the curtains, while expensive furniture sat untouched around him like something out of a movie. Then— Knock. Knock. The sound hit him like a trigger. Dennis’s heart began to race violently. His vision blurred slightly as he stared at the door, his chest tightening almost instantly. “W-Who is that?” he asked, clutching his chest. “Miles? Are you awake?” a feminine voice cal

Miles stood still as Kyle’s body hit the ground with a dull, lifeless thud. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t think. Just… stood there. His gaze remained fixed on his hand. His fingers trembled slightly as faint embers flickered across his skin—then faded into nothing. “What did I just do?” he whispered. His voice sounded unfamiliar, even to himself. Behind him, one of the boys staggered back, his face pale. “H-he just—” his voice shook violently. “Kyle… Kyle’s not moving. Is he dead?” The other didn’t respond. He turned and ran. His footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway until they disappeared completely. Miles didn’t chase. He was still in shock and was still processing what just happened. He only wanted to make him feel it. Just a fraction of it. His brows furrowed slightly as a thought crossed his mind. Does taking someone’s ability… kill them? “—ngh…” His body suddenly gave out. Miles dropped to one knee, clutching his chest tightly. Heat surged inside him. “

The flame hovering above Miles’ palm twisted violently before disappearing into the thin air. The room was silent once again but Miles no longer felt at ease. Miles leaned back slowly against his chair, staring at the glowing list still floating before his eyes. Kyle Vane. Marcus Reed. Professor Hale. Jack Voss. His gaze narrowed slightly at the second name. Marcus Reed. Unlike Kyle, Marcus wasn’t weak. Dennis remembered him clearly. Third-year student. Combat Division. Ranked within Blackthorn Academy’s Top Fifty awakened students. Worse—Marcus had been in the basement too. Miles could still remember the sound of Marcus laughing while the flames spread. His jaw tightened instantly. “Tell me about him,” Miles muttered. [ Marcus Reed ] [ Ability Class: Reinforcement-Type ] [ Rank: B-Class Awakener ] [ Threat Assessment: Dangerous ] Miles frowned slightly. “B-Class?” The system responded immediately. [ Awakening hierarchy acknowledged ] [ Ra

The silence in the apartment was suffocating. Miles stared at the man without blinking. The collector's smirk hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown wider—the kind of smile worn by someone who believed they had just uncovered something valuable. "Is that so?" Miles replied. His voice came out steady. The man tilted his head slightly. "Relax. I'm not accusing you of anything." He glanced briefly at Miles' mother, then back. "I'm just saying… it's strange. The way you paid without hesitation. The way you looked at her." He paused. "The way you're looking at me right now." Miles said nothing. The second man shifted uncomfortably near the doorway. "Let's go. We have what we came for." But the first man didn't move. His eyes narrowed slowly. "You know what's funny about Dennis Lawson?" he continued casually. "The kid never once cried. Not once. Every time we came to collect, he'd just stand there and stare at us exactly like you're doing now." He let out a quiet laugh. "Used t