Chapter 67: 67. Surveillance

Owen wasted no time, he flew off into the sky, returning to Yuki’s apartment.

The moment he arrived, a mental message brushed against his mind.

I’ll be staying over at Odessa’s tonight, Yuki’s voice echoed softly. She wants to meet you properly.

That night, in the courtyard of Odessa’s mansion, three figures waited beneath the lantern-lit sky. Odessa, Alfred, and Yuki.

Yuki stepped forward and reached out mentally.

Summoning a contracted beast was simple. A beast tamer only needed to will their beast back into their Beast Space—no matter the distance—then will it out again into their present location.

Yuki closed her eyes.

She willed it.

Space rippled.

Then Owen emerged.

Not in this his juvenile dragon form though, but in his majestic humanoid form. Tall. Regal. Otherworldly. His draconic traits were subtle yet unmistakable: glowing eyes, faint scaled along his skin, an aura that rippled the atmosphere.

Odessa squealed in delight as her hands clasped to her chest, though she restrained herself from rushing him immediately.

Owen then stepped forward first.

“It is a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance.” He said as He extended his hand to Alfred.

The older man accepted it firmly, studying him with approving gesture.

Then Owen turned to Odessa and offered his hand but instead was pulled into a tight embrace.

Odessa laughed, her fingers brushing over the fine ridges along his arms, tracing the faint gleam of his draconic features with an open fascination in her expression.

“You’re even more magnificent up close,” she breathed.

Owen allowed the hug, dignified but faintly amused.

Soon after, they withdrew into the mansion, where a small, intimate dinner awaited—just the four of them, beneath warm lights and a quiet anticipation.

—

Two days after, Yuki noticed that she was being tailed while buying groceries.

The man she had noticed, had an unremarkable appearance about him, one that doesn’t stand out in public. He had been browsing the produce section when Yuki entered the store and was still there twenty minutes later when she left, his shopping basket being noticeably empty as he kept stealing glances at Yuki.

Coincidence? Maybe. But Yuki has spent the last month honing her [battle intuition] skill, it heightened her awareness of her surrounding to the extent it went beyond normal human perceptions.

She said nothing. Just paid for her groceries and walked back to her apartment. With Uru Jiggling nervously on her head.

When Yuki reached her building, she walked up to her apartment and immediately moved to the window. There she looked through and saw that same man, standing near a bus stop, phone in hand like he was checking messages, but his attention focused on her building’s entrance.

“Owen” Yuki said quietly.

He emerged from the bedroom in his Humanoid form, his tail swishing behind him lazily. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m being followed” she featured toward the window.

Owen moved to the window, his golden eyes tracking the figure below with his enhanced vision.”oh, I see him. Want me to—”

“No. Not yet,” Yuki pulled out her phone. “Let me confirm something first”

The man stayed for another thirty minutes before being replaced by a woman in athletic wear who pretended to jog in place while stretching. Then after an hour, she was replaced by a guy with a skateboard who continued doing tricks while glancing at Yuki’s building.

Three people in four hours, weirdly focused on her building’s entrance, wasn’t coincidental at all.

Then yuki’s phone buzzed with a text from Odessa.

Want me to have Alfred check it out? He’s good at the whole ’discreet investigation’ thing.

Yuki hesitated, then replied. That would be helpful actually, thank you.

On it! Also we should do lunch again soon. Preferably somewhere without your psycho ex showing up.

Despite the situation, Yuki smiled. Odessa’s relentless optimism was oddly grounding.

That evening, Owen expanded his Mana Sense to maximum range while standing on their apartment’s roof.

The skill spread like a net, sweeping across the neighborhood in circles, detecting the distinctive signatures of every human, awakened or not, within his range.

“Four,” he reported when he came back inside. “No, five. Three watching the building directly, two positioned at intersections where they could track you if you leave on foot or by vehicle.”

“This… it’s them isn’t it? Dark Reapers?” Yuki asked.

“Probably.”

Yuki moved while her mind worked through implications. “Vonn hasn’t giving up.”

“No,” Owen agreed. “But he is being smarter about it. Surveillance isnt his usual forte, someone is the brain behind this”

“Should we move?” Yuki asked, though her tone suggested she already knew her answer. “You mentioned before that with the money from the dungeon clear, we could afford better security—”

“You don’t want to run,” Owen interrupted gently.

“I don’t want to run,” Yuki confirmed. “I’m tired of running from vonn. i won’t let him dictate how I live my life. If he wants to watch me, fine. Let him watch. he’ll see I’m not afraid of him anymore and doing way better than ever.”

Owen’s expression was unreadable for a moment, then he smiled “Okay. But we have the upper hand, they don’t know we know they are watching us, so when they make their move—because they will make a move eventually—we’ll be ready.”

Uru jiggled in agreement from its spot on the counter, forming a small pseudopod that looked almost like a thumbs up.

The next morning, Yuki’s phone rang while she was making coffee. an Unknown number.

“Miss Goldberg” The voice was cultured, British-accented, unmistakably Alfred. “I hope I’m not calling too early. Miss Odessa asked me to look into your… situation.”

“And?”

“I’ve confirmed five individuals maintaining rotating surveillance on your residence. All are registered with a Mercenary Guild—legitimate contractors, not criminals per se.”

“Who hired them?”

“The contract traces back to a shell corporation with connections to the Dark Reapers Guild. I suspect Mr. Trump is managing the operation, though I cannot prove direct involvement.”

Yuki’s grip tightened on her phone. “What are they waiting for?”

Alfred was quiet for a moment. “In my experience, Miss Goldberg, surveillance precedes action. They’re learning your routines, identifying when you’re most vulnerable, determining the optimal time and place for… whatever they’re planning.”

“An ambush.”

“Most likely. Though I must say, attempting to ambush someone who cleared a Story Dungeon seems remarkably foolish.”

“They want Owen,” Yuki said. “They think if they can separate us, or overwhelm me with numbers before he can respond, they can take him while I’m incapacitated or captured.”

“A flawed plan, given your dragon can likely sense your distress through your bond. But desperation breeds poor tactical thinking.” Alfred paused. “Miss Odessa has instructed me to offer the Wayne family’s protection, should you want it. We have secure facilities, private security—”

“Thank you, but no,” Yuki interrupted. “Owen and I talked about this. We’re not hiding.”

“I suspected you’d say that.” Alfred’s tone carried what might have been approval.

“Then might I suggest an alternative? Make yourself a less convenient target. Vary your routines. Ensure you’re in public spaces with witnesses when possible. And perhaps accept a lunch invitation from Miss Odessa—accompanied by myself, of course. Professional hunters attempting an ambush are less likely to act when an A-rank knight is present.”

“Yes. Thank you, Alfred.”

“Excellent. I’ll coordinate details with Miss Odessa and contact you with arrangements. In the meantime, stay alert. These mercenaries may be professional, but they’re still motivated by money, which makes them unpredictable.”

He hung up before Yuki could respond.

Owen had been listening from the doorway, his enhanced hearing picking up both sides of the conversation.

“Interesting.” Owen moved into the small kitchen, carefully maneuvering his wings to avoid knocking anything over. “So we’re setting ourselves up as bait.”

“Seems like it.”

“Good.” Owen’s smile showed more teeth than usual. “I’m tired of waiting.”

The next three days passed with tension. The surveillance continued—different faces, same patterns.

Yuki went about her life as normally as possible, though she kept both katanas with her at all times and never went anywhere without checking Uru was secure on her head.

Owen spent most of his time in the apartment, venturing out only at night when he could fly without being easily spotted.

On the fourth day, Odessa texted: Lunch tomorrow! Alfred found this great place in District Five. Less crowded than District Seven, super good food. Noon work for you?

Yuki replied: Noon’s perfect. See you then.

She set down her phone and looked at Owen. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “They’ve been watching for almost a week. If they’re going to make a move, it’ll be soon.”

That night, Yuki couldn’t sleep. She lay in her small bed, staring at the ceiling, running through combat scenarios in her mind.

But beneath the tactical planning was something deeper. Fear? No. Not fear exactly. Anticipation, maybe.

The knowledge that something was coming, that the next confrontation would be more serious than the last encounter, that Rogers and Vonn wouldn’t underestimate her again.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Owen said from his position on the couch. In the dark, his golden eyes were the only light, glowing softly like embers.

“i Can’t turn my brain off.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Yuki was quiet for a moment. “I keep thinking about Vonn. About what he might do if he gets another chance.”

“He won’t hurt you,” Owen said with absolute certainty. “I won’t let him.”

“I know. But that’s not what I’m afraid of.” Yuki rolled onto her side, looking toward where Owen’s eyes glowed in the darkness. “I’m afraid of what I might do to him if given the chance. In District Seven, I was confident. But if we really fight, if he pushes me…”

“You think you might kill him?.”

“I think I might want to.”

Owen was silent for several heartbeats.

“Would that be so terrible? He’s not exactly the kind of person the world would miss.”

“Maybe. But I would despise the person I’d become if I crossed that line.” Yuki closed her eyes. “He took enough from me during our marriage. I won’t let him take my principles too.”

“Then don’t kill him,” Owen said simply as he thought in his mind: but I probably will.

Despite everything, Yuki smiled. “Get some sleep, Owen.”

“You too.”

But neither of them slept well that night.

Morning came with clear skies and the promise of violence hanging in the air like humidity before a storm.

—

Across the city, in a nondescript office that served as one of the Dark Reapers’ many fronts, Rogers Trump sat reviewing surveillance reports while Vonn paced behind him like a caged animal.

“Tomorrow,” Rogers said, setting down the tablet. “She’s meeting the Wayne girl for lunch.”

“Finally,” Vonn growled. “I’m sick of waiting.”

“The wait was necessary” Rogers pulled up a map on his tablet, highlighting the restaurant’s location. “District Five is less secure than District Seven. Fewer Hunter Association patrols. The restaurant has a fire suppression system we can trigger remotely to create evacuation chaos.”

“And the Wayne girl?”

“A complication, but manageable. She’s B-rank, but inexperienced. Her dragon is more problematic, but we have countermeasures.”

Vonn stopped pacing. “What countermeasures?”

Rogers smiled coldly. “Eckstein provided some… specialized equipment. Enough to suppress dragon abilities temporarily. Should be sufficient enough.”

“And if it’s not?”

“I’m confident in our approach and you should be too.” Rogers stood, moving to a locked cabinet and withdrawing several items—restraints, sedatives, suppression collars. “Eight B-rank mercenaries, you and me, surprise on our side. Even if she’s grown stronger, she can’t fight all of us simultaneously.”

Rogers began distributing the equipment into tactical bags. “We grab her during the evacuation chaos, suppress her dragon with the collar, and transport both to Eckstein’s dungeon. Once we’re there, it doesn’t matter if anyone comes looking.

“And Yuki?” Vonn asked, trying and failing to keep the anticipation out of his voice.

Rogers gave him a flat look. “Is a means to an end. Eckstein wants the dragon, not her. What happens to her after we acquire our target is not my concern.”

The implication was clear: Vonn could do whatever he wanted with his ex-wife, as long as it didn’t interfere with delivering Owen.

Vonn’s smile was ugly. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” Rogers confirmed. “Get some rest. And Vonn? Try to keep the personal vendetta secondary to the mission objective. Professionals don’t let emotion compromise operations.”

“I’m professional,” Vonn said, but his hand had moved unconsciously to his sword hilt.

Rogers didn’t look convinced.

After Vonn left, Rogers sat alone in the office, staring at the map on his tablet.

Something felt wrong about this. Not the plan—the plan was solid, accounted for variables, included contingencies.

No, what felt wrong was the target herself.

Yuki had changed. Not just in power level or combat ability, though those were obvious. She’d changed fundamentally, in ways that made Rogers’s instincts—honed through decades of hunter work—send warning signals.

The woman they had tried to intimidate in District Seven hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t backed down. Had drawn a katana and stood her ground against her abusive ex-husband without hesitation.

That wasn’t the behavior of someone who could be easily captured.

But Rogers works for Eckstein’s money, already committed to the operation. Too late to back out now. All he could do was plan carefully, execute precisely, and hope his concerns were just paranoia.

He looked at the surveillance photo of Yuki, taken that morning as she left her apartment. She looked alert, confident, ready.

“Tomorrow,” Rogers said to the empty office.

“One way or another, this fucking drama between these two fucking Ex’s ends tomorrow.”

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