Yeon stepped through the doorway in a sophisticated black-and-white high-slit gown, elegant jewelry catching the light.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Kai asked again.

"What? Don’t I look good?" Yeon raised an eyebrow.

"Don’t ask us." Anton shrugged. "You should ask the guy who’s forgotten to breathe since you walked in." He pointed at Zeke.

"Ahem." Zeke coughed. "Welcome to our abode." He swept his arm toward the interior.

"I’ve been here before." A small smile played at Yeon’s lips.

"Ahem. I forgot."

"Quit your staring, bro." Aaron nudged Zeke.

Zeke turned and shot him a death stare, then moved toward Yeon in a fluid motion. "Mademoiselle." He took her hand in his. "Let me get you a drink while you get comfortable."

"Oh my. Thank you, fine gentleman." Yeon covered her mouth with her palm as she smiled.

They walked to a chair together, arms entangled.

"SIMP!" Michael cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed.

"Look at this dude." Anton joined in.

The trio laughed.

"Wine?" Zeke asked Yeon, paying no mind to the howling boys. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Yes."

"At your service, pretty lady." Zeke turned and walked toward the wine rack. Midway, he glanced back. "Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?"

"Right now? So I don’t look good on normal occasions?"

"Emergency shutdown." Zeke turned immediately and walked faster toward the wine rack.

Yeon chuckled.

---

The group settled into the reunion, reminiscing about their adventures as the evening deepened around them.

Michael spoke first. He had moved from a small merchant to the owner of a subsidiary under one of the empire’s top ten merchants. From there, he had taken over the entire organization, letting collaborators and competitors know of the new order. Business partners and clients received notice of the change, a footnote before he absorbed Maxwell’s operations entirely, and the upgrade to his growing consortium.

The response was not welcoming.

Competitors tried to knock the new owner down a peg. They hijacked clientele and business routes. They resorted to brute force—assassination attempts on Maxwell and Michael, bandits sent to disrupt trade routes.

Legal actions followed. Some of Maxwell’s former business partners, convinced Michael had used hidden motives to force Maxwell into submission, fought back through the courts.

True enough. Michael had used hidden motives. He did not apologize for it.

Their plans came to nothing. Michael thwarted every move.

He had found saints—desperate men and women whose desires their own strength could not fulfill. He coerced two early-stage freelancers with brute force, saints who had reached the end of their potential and belonged to no organization. He recruited a mid-stage saint through a promise of revenge.

That saint’s family had been collateral damage in a war between nobles and aristocrats who wanted his service. His refusal had cost him everything. His path to revenge was blocked by lack of power and lack of resources to acquire it. One could not defy the empire’s main powers and expect a clean, steady life without the strength to enforce peace. The only reason he still breathed was that the aristocrats could not kill him without breaking imperial law.

And no one broke imperial law without consequence.

Anton had helped Michael find this saint—a fact Anton did not fail to brag about. "An old man with knowledge to help when needed," he called himself.

With this manpower—two early-stage saints, one mid-stage saint, and two early-stage freelancers—Michael protected Maxwell and his trade routes. What could assassins do against saints?

The small merchants and low-level aristocrats who had targeted Michael were marked. With time, they would pay recompense.

Maxwell’s fearful business partners were quelled. They reintegrated with the Meridian Consortium under a new understanding.

The legal warfront, born of spite and malice, collapsed. Michael sent saints to handle the worst cases. For the rest, he dug out their deepest legal misconducts and reminded them of what he held, with the appropriate flex that someone of his strength level would apply to weaklings.

Once he had stabilized the Meridian Consortium internally and externally, his trial was counted as complete. He had inserted himself into the empire as a top-tier merchant.

His next trial: reach the top ten in the empire’s merchant rankings.

The rankings updated every six months. Michael had three months.

By the group’s metric, he should already be there—he had taken control of a top-ten organization. Anton disagreed. When asked why, he defaulted to intuition. "Work harder," he told Michael. "Don’t rely on logic from youngins."

"I would have worked hard regardless," Michael said.

---

The group turned to Anton.

He rambled on about how he had almost been duped by the guild mistress and her attendant—but in his infinite wisdom, a boon of his age, he had seen through their hustle.

"You simply knew beforehand," Yeon sneered. "You’re far from wise, old fool."

"I can’t understand the ramblings of a child. Someone give her a pacifier." Anton waved dismissively and continued his tale.

He had struck a deal with Catherine: two saints killed in exchange for high-ranking adventurer status.

"So you’re the one who caused that much ruckus," Michael teased.

"What was the result?" Zeke leaned forward, grinning. "Tell me. I was at the academy. I missed the gist."

The others leaned in as well. They had yet to glimpse Anton’s battle prowess.

"He destroyed the manor of a saint and an important imperial merchant—Gerard Fitch."

"The name doesn’t ring a bell." Zeke’s voice was flat.

"I would say the same for you, but your name has made waves in the empire." Michael swirled his wine. "Not your name directly, but with our knowledge of you, it’s not hard to piece together."

"Mm." Anton nodded. "The professor of the class of weirdos. A class that caused mayhem in the first month of the academy’s resumption, among other things. It’s basic information—on your class and on you as their professor."

"It seems your position grants you better information than mine."

"That will change now that you control the Meridian Consortium."

"Mm."

"Can we not forget what we were discussing?" Jude facepalmed.

"Oh, apologies." Michael smiled. "Gerard Fitch sits near the bottom of the top ten merchant list—a result of his adventuring connections and his strength as a saint."

"Anton did not just kill him. He destroyed his manor. Total destruction. For a saint, that feat alone is unimpressive."

Anton snorted.

"Destroying a manor is nothing. Stop sulking like a kid."

"The impressive part—yet not impressive, knowing Anton— someone of your level killing a mid-stage saint is of no particular significance."

"Whatever."

"Without accounting for power level, killing Gerard Fitch was notable. Not just because of his merchant status, but because whoever did it—did it without breaking imperial law—had to be stronger than a late-stage saint."

"You killed six saints, after all. You would have to be a peak-stage saint, and a peak-stage saint making a move is a major event. They are almost blindfolded by imperial law."

---

"You’ve mentioned imperial law several times," Yeon interrupted. "What is it?"

"The laws are simple measures to tether saints in place." Michael answered.

"Once someone reaches sainthood, their power becomes an asset of the empire," Anton continued. "An asset the empire cannot afford to lose to senseless fights."

"Also, to prevent unnecessary loss of property and civilian life."

"But here’s the twist." Michael’s smile sharpened. "The weaker you are as a saint, the more leeway you have to exercise your strength. The empire can afford to lose weaker saints. It can dispatch saints of your level—or stronger—to protect property."

"So peak-stage saints cannot, without the emperor’s permission, exercise their strength at all. The destruction they would cause cannot be contained. There are not enough saints to lose."

Michael took a sip of wine. "The reason Anton’s actions caused such shock—as I said, to kill all the saints in Gerard’s manor, you would have to be a powerful late-stage saint or a peak-stage saint. And saints of that nature are assets. They are not allowed to flare their aura outside contained areas."

"So the existing saints could not have killed Gerard without the emperor’s permission."

"If either had to be a new peak rank saint not under the radar of the empire or the emperor had written off the death of Gerrard Fitch"

"The only evidence of the attack was the manor’s destruction. No aura was felt or left behind. Only a peak saint could do that."

"And only someone of Anton’s level can do that." Michael inclined his head toward Anton.

"Heh." Anton gave a sheepish smile.

"It’s also why I chose to help the guild mistress. She is a peak saint. She could not act. The emperor would not grant her permission just for revenge. Gerard held promise beyond his strength. He was an important merchant."

"And I killed him." Anton grinned.

---

"Why are saints not allowed to move?" Jude mused. "There must be another reason beyond protecting property and civilians."

"As expected of my little brother." Anton beamed.

The group groaned.

"Give it a rest with the ’little brother’ shit," Zeke teased.

Anton stared at him and sneered. "Cheap coming from a simp."

Zeke sat as close to Yeon as he could without being creepy. He opened his mouth to retort, but Yeon shot him a look—let him finish the exposition—and he shrugged.

"Tsk." Anton sneered and continued. "As my brother said, the empire is not just protecting civilians. Remember: the empire is the last bastion of humanity in this world. The sole empire. It houses all the humans of this world—a result of the main storyline."

"Saints are prevented from killing themselves. They are treated as assets because without them, humans have no way of winning once the main storyline begins."

"Main storyline?" Aaron’s voice carried recognition. "I’ve heard that phrase."

"We’ll discuss how later. First, what it is." Anton settled into the explanation. "This world is built for Tower climbers. There will be trials. The basic trials we have been receiving are a result of the hundred-year peace—a period of respite between the main storylines."

"The main storyline is a war between humans and demons. It will begin in nine months."

"The hundred-year peace allows the world to rest. It lets the next generation of Tower climbers grow strong enough to participate."

"So to have a fighting chance against demons, we need combat power. We need saints."

---

The room fell somber.

They were walking into war. The main storyline would begin soon.

Zeke grinned. "So that’s what the main storyline is. We get to receive a lot of rewards for the chaos we thrive in. That’s a win for me."

He looked at the trio, his expression sharpening.

"It means we have to work harder than we are working right now."

He turned to Aaron.

"And Aaron—you had something to say about the main storyline. What was it?"