About fifteen minutes after his realization of the model-like man’s true identity, Lucien wore a blank facial expression as he sat on a wooden stool with his back straightened, fingers interlocked, breathing controlled, and emerald eyes focused on the man sitting directly opposite him at their wooden table.

’Lector.’

He still couldn’t believe it.

’THE Lector.’

Right there, in that shabby wooden food joint — a small building constructed with wood — where numerous wooden tables filled with men and drinks lay around, where the scent of something roasted mixed with the poignant smell of alcohol was abundant, where abstract masculine noise and even rare female laughter boomed, Lucien couldn’t help but feel a chill crawl up his spine.

Suddenly, the food on the table in front of him seemed unappealing — although Mikky, sitting on a wooden stool by his side, munched his own food — and only one thought registered in his mind.

’Why?’

Why was Lector here in Shaw?

This was the problem with the knowledge of the novel that Lucien possessed. The only information he had about the world’s past was either mentioned in passing in the narrative or dripped into the calamity’s backstory Chapters.

It meant most of the world’s pre-Eden information was like a gap in Lucien’s head.

Lector never even appeared in the novel until much later. He was a man who, after much trouble, became the protagonist’s ally. A man who’d reluctantly agreed to train the protagonist.

The future version of him was someone who’d risen to become one of Earth’s top 10 Hunters.

But notably, before that, he was a formidable Prowler ranked somewhere in the world’s top 500.

Lucien blinked, staring at the blond man gracefully munching a full lap of roasted turkey. Where in this goddamn place did these zeros even find turkey? Must’ve been smugglers.

Lector looked overjoyed, consuming his turkey.

This was the fearsome, elusive man who’d founded the largest guild in Stronghold Mariva?

His current physical state didn’t match his description in the novel at all.

The Lector he’d read of had short white hair, and Lucien imagined him more... shorter.

Even when he was mentioned in Amira’s backstory Chapters, he was still...

Wait a minute.

Lucien’s fingers trembled.

Lector. Lector!

Of course. Of course, it was him. Shit, how had Lucien forgotten that?

In the novel, Lector was the one who’d officially burst The Cerulean Orphanage as a Prowler, rescuing Amira in the process.

Thinking back on it, Lucien guessed that it might’ve been the first time The Calamity of Storms met The Rock of Mariva.

It was too bad they were both chosen by Eden and sucked into that game-like trial just as soon as he rescued her, though.

Lucien shook his head.

’Forget about that.’

This new piece of information meant that Lector was meant to be in Sector 3, in the Cerulean Orphanage, two months from now, on the day of Eden’s arrival. He was meant to burst the operation of that ’orphanage.’

Was that why he was currently in Shaw? Were the reasons related? Or was he here for another operation?

No. Why the man was currently in Shaw didn’t matter.

What mattered was the fact that where he was inevitably headed coincided with where Lucien was currently finding a way to head.

Lucien felt his heart ease slightly.

This was good. He could work with this. Lead on it, find an opening, a way to get away from this damn place and head straight to Sector 3. Hell, it might even be better if he brought a Prowler along with him to rescue Amira.

As wisps of a plan began forming in Lucien’s mind, he felt his stomach rumble. And he blinked. Then grinned.

And suddenly, the food resting on the table in front of him became appealing once more. Very appealing.

’Oh, there’s fried rice.’

Seeing the food reminded Lucien of Mikky, and he gazed at the kid sitting right next to him, looking full and content.

Michael burped.

Lucien chuckled.

"Seems like you’ve had your fill."

Michael gazed at Luci, smiling cheerfully as his bright blue eyes bore into Lucien’s emerald.

The boy tapped his full belly, nodding.

"Delicious."

Lucien was about to speak, "Yo–"

However, he was interrupted by an abrupt—

[Ding–!]

[Nurturing Action Has Been Detected.]

—Familiar system screen.

’Huh.’

[Nurturing Target: Michael Johansefort (6yo)]

[Analyzing Nurturing Action...]

’No,’ Lucien thought. ’Not now. Later.’

[Analyzing Nurturing Act–

’LATER!’

[Analysis Successfully Withheld. To be Continued at Your Desired Time.]

He let out a soft sigh.

"Luci?" Michael called.

Lucien snapped out of the dregs of his predicament, shaking his head and reorienting himself with a bright smile.

"Yeah?"

"You were about to say something."

"Ah." Lucien scratched his head. "You should clean the side of your lips..." Lucien pointed at a spot on his own lips. "There. You got tiny bits of crumbs there."

Mikky blinked.

"Where?" He tried to locate the crumb. He failed. "Did I get it?"

Lucien chuckled, resting his fingers on the boy’s lips, taking the crumbs away.

"There." He smiled. "Done."

"Yay!"

Grrr–!

Right. Eat. He had to eat too.

Finally, Lucien focused on his food.

But just as he was about to eat, a low chuckle resounded.

It was Lector.

Lucien looked up at the man, brows furrowing.

Lector had wiped three plates clean. Quite an appetite for a supposed model-like man.

Noticing Lucien’s attention on him, Lector waved a hand.

"Oh, don’t mind me," he said, resting his chin on an open palm. "I just find your mannerisms a bit funny, you know. You came in here looking like you’d devour an entire cow if you were offered one, but you just sat there, staring at me for what I counted as twenty-five whole minutes." Lector tilted his head slightly, smiling brightly as he drawled with his thickly accented voice, "What are you so curious about, Luci?"

Abruptly, Lucien’s furrowed brows melted. And he blinked.

"Luci?"

"That is your name, is it not? It’s what the boy calls you."

Lucien chuckled, genuinely amused.

"It’s Lucien, Lector." He gulped down two spoonfuls of rice. "But honestly, I’m more than curious about you. And I’m also trying to be cautious."

’Good. Let’s play it this way.’

Lector nodded slowly.

"I understand. You must be really curious about the man whose mere presence and interest in you repelled hundreds of those criminals. Right?"

Lucien shrugged.

’They obviously don’t know that he’s a Prowler. So I’m guessing he must be playing a really important role here.’

Lucien wore a charmingly naive smile.

"True. I... this might sound stupid, but I don’t know if you’re someone I can trust, haha."

Lector chuckled.

"How painful. After treating you and yours to all this food, you still think I have bad intentions toward you?"

"I’m... I’m sorry, Lector. I’m just being cautious. I guess you could say it’s a survival instinct?"

"Survival instinct? I don’t think you even possess that. No disrespect, but if you did possess the faintest glimmer of survival instinct, you wouldn’t be here in Shaw with a child. Why are you even here in the first place?"

Lucien greatly avoided gritting his teeth or changing his facial expression.

He was being read. This man had avoided Lucien’s inquiry on who he was and had steered the conversation toward a path that he desired.

Now Lucien had to come up with a sufficient backstory to keep the flow going.

But...

His heart fluttered.

This was it.

"I... We’re on our way to another sector."