Merin gazes at the city lights from the suite’s living room window, the skyline slowly dimming as buildings switch off one by one.

Behind him, he hears, “Here, take this.”

He turns and freezes.

Evelyn stands in a bathrobe, holding out a wine glass.

He takes it, unable to look away. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh, this?” she says, waving at the robe casually. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes. Can’t exactly call room service either. So… this.”

Merin nods and quickly shifts his gaze back to the city, sipping his wine in silence.

After a while, he asks without turning, “What’s your next plan?”

Evelyn steps beside him. “I don’t know. I’m waiting to see what the family decides.”

He glances at her, brow raised. “You don’t want to decide for yourself?”

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I just follow whatever path the family sets. It’s easier that way.”

Merin stares at her, confused. This is the same girl who dragged him into a fake relationship to defy her mother?

“I didn’t know you were so obedient,” he says.

She exhales and says quietly, “I’m not. I just don’t care enough. With the family behind me, I can do anything… so nothing really matters.”

Merin understands—it’s not that she lacks will, but that choice has never truly belonged to her. She waits because that’s all she can do.

He shifts the topic. “Why aren’t you cultivating as a Demon Hunter? Why train in martial arts instead?”

She pauses before answering, “Because my blood is sealed.”

“Why?”

“The demon blood in my body is too strong,” she says softly. “If it wasn’t sealed at birth, it could have caused alienation in my body—split me apart from the inside.”

“So the seal will be undone in the future?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Hmmm.”

Silence stretches between them. After a while, Merin steps into the bathroom for a quick bath. When he returns, Evelyn is already asleep in the suite’s only bedroom.

He takes his place on the floor and sits cross-legged, entering meditation.

His breath aligns with the rhythm of his dual cultivation techniques—fire and ice energies clashing violently inside him.

But the pain is less now. His body has begun adapting, evolving.

And soon—very soon—there will be no pain at all.

Just power.

He can feel it. Only a few more hours.

The pain continues to fade as his body recovers after each cycle of training with the twin breathing techniques—half an hour at a time.

By the time dawn arrives, the conflict between fire and ice energies inside him no longer hurts.

He stops, breathes in the crisp morning air, and smiles faintly.

Today feels different. It feels right.

He begins by completing a long-awaited stage of training—his body now harmonised with the conflicting energies.

Next, he refines the Blue Light Breathing Technique using his deep understanding of fire.

It takes an hour, but the results are worth it.

He watches a white flame appear in his palm—before, it took a full second to form. Now it flares into existence instantly.

The flame’s structure is now embedded in his true energy.

But when he tries the White Light Breathing Technique, he hits a wall—his fire true energy has become too strong, overwhelming the ice.

The balance is lost.

He can’t advance like this.

And he knows—if he improves the white technique only using his ice knowledge, the same imbalance will happen again in reverse.

He forces himself to approach the problem with equal understanding of both elements.

It takes him just under an hour to restructure it—barely enough, but it works.

He resumes training in both techniques.

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And the pain returns, ripping through him with fresh intensity.

He grits his teeth.

The refinement has begun again.

Merin continues training, the pain like fire and frost clawing through his veins—until the bedroom door creaks open.

Evelyn steps out, yawning in her bathrobe, and freezes.

Adam sits cross-legged on the floor, wearing only his briefs.

His skin is flushed an alarming red, almost glowing, veins pulsing faintly beneath the surface.

She frowns, startled.

His jaw is clenched, his face twisted in silent agony. Whatever breathing technique he’s using, it’s clearly brutal.

She watches for only a moment before retreating into the bedroom.

Later, she steps out fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes and finds Adam also ready, now clothed and checking his phone.

He lifts his eyes at her entry and says, “Let’s go.”

Evelyn nods.

Together, they leave the hotel and walk to her car.

As she drives him home, she glances sideways and asks, “When’s your train?”

Merin yawns and mutters, “5:55 p.m.”

“I’ll come pick you up at five,” she says.

Merin nods, already wondering when he’ll manage to rest—and then leans his head against the window and drifts off.

Ten minutes later, the car pulls up to his house.

His father, having taken the day off, is in the living room and watches with raised brows as his son enters, mumbles a sleepy greeting, and heads straight for his room.

Seeing his son pass out almost immediately, his father nods in silent pride.

Didn’t sleep all night, he muses.

In his head, Severin invents his own version of what Adam and his girlfriend were doing until dawn.

At 5:30 p.m., Merin enters the station with his luggage, his family, and Evelyn trailing behind.

They walk together to the platform where his train will arrive.

To Merin’s quiet surprise, Evelyn is cheerfully chatting with his parents and younger sister—laughing, answering questions, asking a few of her own.

They’ve fully accepted her.

To them, she isn’t just his girlfriend—she’s future family.

Merin watches this warm exchange and feels a weight settle in his chest.

What will happen when they find out it was fake all along?

The more joy he sees in his family’s faces, the guiltier he feels.

For a moment, he considers ending it now—telling the truth.

But he pushes the thought away.

At 5:45 sharp, the train arrives on the platform, wheels screeching.

Merin had booked a first-class chair car; by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, he’ll arrive in Nova Super City.

He hugs his mother, his father, and his sister.

Then comes Evelyn. They hug longer, slower, and as they pull back, they kiss, one final act for the onlookers.

Merin grabs his luggage and boards the train.

Inside, he finds his seat and settles in.

Through the window, he watches the station slip by as the train begins to move.

Not long after, he receives messages—one from his mother, one from Evelyn.

He replies briefly to his mother.

With Evelyn, though, a conversation unfolds.

They text each other until dinner is served.

After eating, Merin leans back in his seat and, rocked by the rhythm of the moving train, falls asleep.

—

Elsewhere, Evelyn closes her phone in the backseat of her car after receiving Merin’s simple “bye.”

Their conversation ends for the day.

The car stops.

She steps out and walks into the restaurant where her friends have invited her for dinner.

Reaching the table, she smiles and settles in, exchanging greetings as the group chats and laughs.

After a while, Blake leans in and asks, “Evelyn, are you okay with a long-distance relationship?”

Evelyn shrugs. “It won’t be that hard. If I really miss him, I’ll just go over to Nova Super City.”

Blake nods, seemingly satisfied.

Mira tilts her head. “But I still don’t get it. Why him? You’ve got so many better options. Way better.”

Evelyn smiles. “He’s talented. And honestly, I don’t think many in the federation compare to him.”

Candace rolls her eyes. “This isn’t the age of martial arts anymore. It’s the age of science and tech. Martial arts will disappear in a few years.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “That’s never going to happen.”

Candace presses, “Why not? The federation’s own data shows fewer people choose martial arts every year.”

Evelyn nods. “Yes—but the rate at which martial artists disappear doesn’t match the drop in new practitioners, right?”

Candace frowns. “Yeah… I noticed that too. Fewer new students, but the number of active martial artists doesn’t fall as fast. I couldn’t figure out why.”

Evelyn leans in slightly. “Because once you reach the top two realms, you break past human limits. A Unification Realm martial artist can live 120 to 150 years.”

Her four friends freeze—then all gasp at once.

Their voices rise loud enough to turn heads nearby, earning awkward looks.

They mutter apologies to other tables.

Blake gapes. “Are you serious?”

Evelyn nods. “Ask any Unification Realm cultivator. They’ll confirm it.”

A hush falls over the group. Then Blake says, “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I want to start training. Can you recommend a place?”

Evelyn smiles. “Come with me in four days. I’ll introduce you to my teacher.”

The group nods, excitement replacing curiosity.

They begin eating with a new focus, and the energy is different now.

Halfway through the meal, Candace looks up again. “Then… what about the lifespan of someone at the King Kong Realm?”

Evelyn answers calmly, “180 to 210 years.”

Blake sits up straighter. “I’m going to give my all to martial arts.”

The others nod in agreement.

By the time they finish their food, no one brings up Adam again.

Their minds are already far down another path.

—-

Merin wakes at dawn, blinking against the soft golden light filling the train cabin.

He shifts in his seat, leans toward the window, and watches the landscape blur by—wide fields, scattered villages, misty hills in the distance.

After a while, he checks the time: two hours until Nova Super City.

But then, without warning, the train jolts violently as the brakes screech.

The passenger seated across from him loses balance and crashes into his lap.

Shouts erupt through the coach as passengers stumble and cry out in confusion.

Before anyone can figure out what happened, the sharp crack of gunfire echoes from the front.

Then, a voice blares from the overhead speaker, calm but firm.

“Attention passengers: Red Alert. All martial artists onboard are hereby recruited under Federation Article 124-B. In times of crisis, any Federation entity may immediately conscript nearby martial artists.”

Merin doesn’t hesitate.

He slips out of his seat and pushes through the aisle, heading toward the front of the train.

No use pretending he didn’t hear it—the law is absolute.

Refusing emergency conscription without an approved reason means a mandatory ten-year sentence and a complete martial arts training ban.

That alone is worse than death to someone like him.

As he moves forward, the door bursts open and someone yells, “They’re breaking through! Iron Tusk Boars—about twenty of them!”

Merin bursts onto the scene and sees it—a frenzied herd of massive boars, steel-grey skin gleaming, tusks like curved swords, charging through a forest clearing ahead of the stalled train.

Several martial artists are already engaged, trying to hold the line.

Without pause, Merin runs forward and throws his palm out.

A white flame blazes into existence as he strikes.

The Fire God Palm hits the closest boar square in the head.

Its skull evaporates in an instant—flesh and bone burned to ash before it even hits the ground.

He doesn’t stop.

They need to kill the herd fast.

This forest stretch is too exposed, too dangerous to linger in.

And the only path forward to Nova Super City is through the corpses of these beasts.

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