He stepped fully into the faint light filtering through the canopy.

  Handsome.

  Not in the ornamental way nobles cultivated, nor the sharp predatory look of trained fighters. His features were clean, balanced, almost unnervingly precise — the kind of face that looked designed rather than grown. Dark hair fell neatly across his forehead, framing eyes that reflected no urgency, no tension, no hostility.

  Just composure.

  Like someone who had never needed to rush in his life.

  His clothes were ordinary — dark coat, simple shirt, gloves — yet they fit too well to be cheap.

  My first thought:

  He looks like he walked out of a high-budget survival horror game.

  My second thought:

  And that makes this worse.

  The man stopped a few meters away.

  Still smiling.

  Not warmly.

  Not coldly.

  Just… present.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I’m not someone special. Especially compared to you.”

  Fantastic.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, let’s just say Ether users are one in a billion.”

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “Finding one is like locating a single grain of white sand on a moonless beach.”

  Okay, Korin.

  Keep calm.

  Deny everything.

  “What’s an Ether user? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Great question. Let me tell you something interesting.”

  Oh good.

  A lecture.

  “Yesterday my subordinate reported an incident. She eliminated a Hollowed at the auction house.”

  “…And?”

  “The unusual part was that a cadet remained nearby the entire time… yet she couldn’t sense him at all.”

  My grip tightened slightly on the sword.

  “That’s not unusual. It was crowded.”

  “You misunderstand.”

  He tapped a gloved finger lightly against his chest.

  “As Ether users, you perceive mana directly. You see it.”

  His hand lowered.

  “We mana users cannot see mana. We sense it.”

  A faint smile.

  “My subordinate is exceptionally perceptive. She detects presence through fluctuations alone.”

  A pause.

  “And yet she could not sense one academy cadet.”

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  Silence settled between us.

  I had no idea what expression I was making.

  Internally, however, the situation was clear.

  I messed up.

  “…So?” I said.

  “Well, even if there were only a 0.01% chance, I couldn’t ignore the possibility of an Ether user.”

  His eyes met mine fully.

  “So I began following you.”

  Wonderful.

  Absolutely wonderful.

  “Everything seemed normal. Quite disappointing, actually.”

  He exhaled lightly, almost amused.

  “Then you located the Razorback’s mana gland immediately… and killed it alone.”

  “Well,” I said, forcing a shrug, “beginner’s luck.”

  “Yes. Perhaps.”

  He shifted his weight slightly.

  “So I decided to confirm.”

  He gestured toward the trees behind him.

  “I created a sound at one tree… and hid in another.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “You sensed me… and looked directly at where I actually was.”

  Right.

  That.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I can sense mana too. That doesn’t mean I use whatever thing you mentioned.”

  He nodded once.

  “Sensing mana is one thing.”

  His gaze sharpened.

  “Locating a concealed presence precisely through mana alone is another.”

  Silence stretched.

  “Even many heroes cannot do that reliably,” he continued.

  “Certainly not those outside the world’s top fifty.”

  I crossed my arms.

  “Maybe I’m just a genius.”

  “Perhaps.”

  No argument.

  No skepticism.

  Just acceptance.

  Which was somehow worse.

  Then he asked:

  “Why do you want to become a hero?”

  I blinked.

  “…What?”

  “That is your goal, isn’t it? Echelon Academy is not a hobby.”

  “That’s random.”

  “I want your answer.”

  Not louder.

  Not harsher.

  Just absolute.

  Like the question itself had weight.

  I looked at him for a long second.

  “Personal reasons.”

  “That’s a valid answer.”

  He regarded me briefly, then continued as if we had been discussing something completely ordinary.

  “Well, I want you to leave the academy and join our group.”

  My brain stalled.

  …What?

  “So let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “You want me to leave the world’s most famous academy — where graduation guarantees a secure future — to join a… secret organization that approaches people in forests.”

  “Not a secret organization,” he corrected mildly.

  “This world needs heroes who don’t do what is right… but what is necessary.”

  “That already sounds like a villain’s manifesto.”

  “Perhaps.”

  No offense taken.

  No denial either.

  “I can’t tell you more details unless you join us,” he continued. “But I’m not asking you to decide now. We are in a preparation phase. It will take about a year.”

  A year.

  “Maybe by then,” he said, “you will understand what I meant.”

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  A faint smile appeared.

  “I’m sure you’ve already concluded that I’m not Hollowed.”

  Silence felt safer than answering.

  “…And that there are Hollowed inside the academy.”

  My heartbeat skipped once.

  I didn’t respond.

  “I’ll take that as confirmation.”

  Great.

  Silence is now incriminating.

  “What if after a year I still say no?”

  “For what we intend to do, we need an Ether user.”

  His voice didn’t change.

  “You will say yes.”

  A pause.

  “And if you don’t… I will create circumstances that make refusal impossible.”

  Cold.

  Precise.

  Unapologetic.

  “Is that blackmail?”

  “No,” he said.

  “It’s desperation.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it.”

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “Before I leave, I have a proposal.”

  Here it comes.

  Devil’s bargain.

  “What proposal?”

  “I am ninety-nine percent certain you are an Ether user.”

  His eyes locked onto mine.

  “If you confirm it and make that certainty absolute… I will grant you one favor.”

  My thoughts raced.

  Say nothing.

  Deny everything.

  Walk away.

  But—

  He already knew too much.

  He had subordinates capable of killing Hollowed.

  And he was offering something.

  Not threatening.

  Not begging.

  Offering.

  Information.

  Training.

  Protection.

  Or a trap.

  If I refused, he might still watch me.

  If I lied, he would know.

  If I accepted—

  Danger.

  Opportunity.

  Possibly both.

  A golden chance rarely looks safe.

  I exhaled slowly.

  “Yes.”

  A beat passed.

  “I’m an Ether user.”

  His smile widened.

  Not triumphant.

  Not sinister.

  Satisfied.

  “And your favor?”

  “I want you to teach me swordsmanship.”

  That actually surprised him.

  “I’m not a swordsman myself,” he said. “And I’m quite busy with the preparations I mentioned.”

  Of course you are.

  “But I can provide someone better.”

  “Who?”

  “You already know her.”

  He snapped his fingers lightly.

  “ADA.”

  Space twisted.

  Not light.

  Not sound.

  Just a circular distortion folding inward as if reality had briefly forgotten its shape.

  A woman stepped out.

  Late twenties.

  Pale skin.

  Dark hair tied carelessly back.

  Eyes sharp.

  Irritated.

  And very familiar.

  Museum incident.

  She looked around once, spotted me, and her expression immediately soured.

  “Why am I here?” she demanded. “And why is he here?”

  “Meet Adaline,” the man said pleasantly. “And apologies for the late introduction — I’m Akira.”

  “Korin Kai.”

  Akira gestured toward me.

  “Ada, you’ll be teaching Korin swordsmanship.”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “Why me? There are other people.”

  Her tone suggested those “other people” would also refuse.

  “So, Korin,” Akira continued smoothly, “here is your instructor. Ada will also teach you certain things not to do so others don’t detect your Ether usage.”

  He leaned slightly closer to me, lowering his voice.

  “And… don’t call her Ada.”

  “Wait,” she snapped. “Who the hell said I agreed to any of this?”

  Akira was already stepping backward toward the portal.

  “Bye, Ada.”

  And then he was gone.

  Space snapped shut behind him as if he had never been there.

  Silence fell over the forest.