I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

Albert would say one part, and Ivan would say another.

The rhythm was like two old friends who hadn't seen each other for many years finally sitting at the same table, piecing together fragments of their lives from those years.

Before we knew it.

The two walked along the street for a full hour.

The bustling, brightly lit city center was left behind.

The buildings on both sides of the street gradually changed from bank buildings inlaid with marble decorations to factory walls with red brick exteriors and covered with rust.

The electric lights had somehow been replaced by gas lamps, and the distance between them had become increasingly larger.

The darkness between each pair of lampposts was noticeably deeper than in the urban area.

Several workers who had just finished work walked past them, chatting and laughing.

All three were wearing gray overalls stained with engine oil.

They stopped at a small tea stall on the street, each bought a bottle of black tea in a brown glass jar, and chug it down as they walked away whistling.

Albert snapped out of his reverie at the sound of the whistling.

"Feel sorry."

He smiled sheepishly.

"I've told you so much."

He nodded toward the little red tea stall.

"I don't have much money either. How about I treat you to a bottle of black tea?"

He walked up to the stall, took out a few nickels from his pocket, and handed them to the stall owner.

The stall owner was an old man wearing a dirty baseball cap. He took two bottles of black tea from a wooden box under the stall and handed them over.

Ivan stood still.

Taking advantage of the moment when Albert turned his back to him, he quietly activated his Demon Hunter Vision once again.

This time, he finally noticed something was wrong.

In the shadows all around.

In those corners deliberately avoided by the gaslight.

Behind the corner of the factory wall.

Behind the bushes.

The inside of the window frame of the abandoned factory building across the street.

There were at least ten concealed auras and heat outlines.

Every place is a person.

Ivan carefully examined it using his Demon Hunter's Vision.

They are all ordinary people. They have no extraordinary characteristics.

But they were all poised to pounce.

A more distant location.

The inside of the abandoned factory building diagonally opposite.

Behind that broken window facing the street.

There was a person standing there.

The person was emanating a dense, almost overflowing, pink mist.

Alcott.

Ivan subtly withdrew his gaze and lowered his eyes.

"finally!"

He laughed to himself.

"You'll be fine as long as you show up."

The vast class difference meant that he could never even see Alcott's face, let alone humiliate or cause trouble for him.

Albert had already returned with two bottles of black tea.

He had an overly enthusiastic smile on his face.

"You've said so much."

He handed a bottle to Evan.

My throat is so dry.

Evan took the brown glass bottle.

The bottle still carried the damp coolness of the stall owner's wooden box.

Ivan did not drink it.

If it contains something like phenobarbital, which is a drug whose positive effects are sedation and relaxation.

You might actually faint and get hooked.

He said with a sigh:

"My own brother handed me a bottle of sedative tea..."

"Tsk tsk, why does this feel so familiar?"

Albert's entire body stiffened abruptly.

A flicker of nervousness, too intense to hide, flashed in those eyes.

"Wh...what do you mean?"

Ivan did not answer him.

His gaze went over Albert's shoulder and straight to the broken window diagonally opposite.

"Alcott".

"Your pretend game should end now."

"Give me your head obediently, and I'll leave you with a whole corpse."

The instant Evan finished speaking.

The fake warmth on Albert's face, like the warmth of "old friends reuniting," instantly crumbled, as if a layer of fake skin had been ripped off.

What was revealed below was a pale and ferocious face, twisted and deformed by ambition and desire.

He suddenly pulled a dagger from his jacket pocket with his right hand.

The dagger gleamed coldly under the gaslight, its blade pointing straight toward Ivan's abdomen.

That stab was made without any hesitation.

There was no mercy shown.

Ivan's expression remained unchanged.

His left hand rose six times faster than Albert could make a move, and his five fingers gripped Albert's wrist with the precision of an iron clamp.

The bone made a soft clicking sound in the pliers.

Ivan sighed: "Is it really worth risking your life for a few women you've slept with?"

Albert's eyes widened to their limit in that instant.

His face contorted into a near-manic excitement.

"certainly!!"

"This is not just about women, it's about recognition!!"

"I have gained their approval!"

"If I can capture you, I can officially become a member of the upper class!"

He grinned at Evan, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Have you ever slept with the beautiful daughters of middle-class families? Have you ever slept with socialites?"

"I've played them all!"

His voice grew increasingly shrill.

"Last night! It was the most perfect night of my life!"

"Those three beautiful women are top-tier beauties you'd never even be allowed to touch in your entire life!"

"I……"

Ivan didn't let him continue.

He suddenly pulled Albert's wrist upwards with the hand that was gripping him.

With his other hand, in an incredibly calm, almost mechanical motion, he supported Albert's elbow, the hand holding the knife.

Then he gave it a gentle push.

puff.

The dagger that had just tried to stab Ivan in the abdomen.

Its original owner stabbed it vertically upwards, right in the center of its lower jaw.

The blade pierced through the jawbone and into the brainstem.

The whole process took less than a second.

Albert stared at Evan.

Those pupils were still filled with unbelievable madness at the very last moment.

Ivan didn't look at him.