Al arrived at the front gate of his house just as the sky had surrendered its light. The sun had set far too quickly… or maybe he had just delayed his return for too long.
His mind had been so consumed by the killing intent that he'd completely forgotten about his appearance.
His shirt was dull and worn, his pants had a small tear at the knee from his earlier movements, and his right shoe was wet from some random puddle in the alley. Luckily, it didn't smell—it was only a minor splash.
At the same time, a black SUV rolled into the driveway. Through the slowly lowering window, Sarah stared at Al—walking with a tired look and a hazy mind.
A small smirk curled on her lips—the victorious smile of a sister who'd just found new ammo against her long-time enemy... her own younger brother.
"Perfect," she whispered, stepping out of the car like a celebrity finishing a shoot for a family drama series.
Meanwhile, Al strode quickly into his room, his mind occupied by a single question.
Why did my killing intent spiral out of control just now? Six years had passed since I last unleashed it. Six years living as an ordinary human… Maybe… I've begun to forget how to control the darker side of myself.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, still wearing the dirty clothes he hadn't had a chance to change. His gaze was vacant, and his thoughts drifted far away.
Two hours passed. His mind slowly reached a conclusion. Just as he decided to start suppressing his murderous aura little by little, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," he said, not even looking up—expecting a servant with dinner.
It was a servant, but not with food—
Instead, with unpleasant news:
"Master Edward and Madam Sandra request your presence in the family room. Immediately."
Al frowned in confusion.
"Am I actually allowed to join dinner this time? That was fast."
He quickly changed clothes, making sure there were no obvious stains. His eyes still looked dull, and his hair… well, still a mess. No time to fix it.
As soon as he entered the living room, the unmistakable scent of interrogation hit him.
His father, Edward, was already seated, his face tense, eyes sharp. Though there was a faint sign of discomfort, as if he lacked the energy to argue with Al but had no choice but to.
"Did you fight?" Edward asked without any preamble. "And I hear you also hit a servant earlier this morning?"
Sandra shifted slightly, attempting to interject.
"Honey… you don't need to—" she started, referring to the servant incident.
Edward cut her off firmly.
"It doesn't matter. We still need to discuss it."
Sandra could only retreat and nod.
Al remained silent, analyzing first.
Both of Father's accusations are true this time. And... it's normal for him to know I hit the servant… but how does he know I fought? I was sure no one was watching me after I got away from that one incident, he thought.
Seeing Al just sit there quietly with his head down, Sarah immediately stepped onto the stage.
"See? He's staying quiet because he feels guilty. I was right, wasn't I?" she said dramatically, as if she were reciting lines from a soap opera.
"I saw his clothes earlier—they were filthy. And he looked like he'd just been beaten up. There's even a bruise on his cheek."
She stepped closer,
"And hitting a servant? After harassing someone before, now attacking another. Wow… he's really wild. Where will this family end up if we have to accept someone like him? How many servants will end up as victims?" Sarah's words added even more tension.
Al raised his head slightly.
"You don't even know the story about that servant. So stay quiet." His tone was firm as he pointed to his own cheek. "And a bruise you said? Where? There isn't one. See for yourself," he said flatly.
Sarah shrugged casually.
"Well, maybe it's gone by now. That was two hours ago."
Edward snorted.
"Enough both of you. And Al, can you take this seriously? You think this is funny? Fighting in the streets, coming home looking like a mess. Hitting a servant!."
"Do you think you can treat this family's name like garbage? Lucky you haven't been introduced to the public yet." he added.
Al's gaze sharpened, as if responding seriously at his father's request.
"Father, do you even know why I hit that servant? And how do you know I fought outside? This is the third time I'm accused just based on testimony, isn't it?"
Edward straightened his posture.
"Al… this time, I don't want to make this into a bigger problem, or even punish you. Not this time. Maybe I sound too harsh, but violent behavior—whether or not you actually did it—is not acceptable," he said.
Al was slightly shocked, mouth agape.
Did he really say that violent behavior isn't acceptable… after slapping me this morning? Wow.
Edward continued.
"If you really didn't fight outside, fine, that's okay. But hitting a servant? This is only your third day here, and already two servants have had issues with you. Huff…" he said
"I just hope you learn to become part of this family. Your life may have been wild out there, but now you're an elite child. That's how it should be. You're our child. So please, straighten yourself out." Edward's tone softened, almost pleading.
Sandra chimed in, soft but piercing:
"Son, are you really going to school properly? Or are you wandering around all day? What school do you go to, Al?"
Al slowly lifted his head.
His voice was calm.
Then he shook his head.
"Honestly… this feels worse than how you treated me before," he said flatly.
"You scold me without knowing the full story about that fight. I'm not trying to lecture you, but didn't any of you even think to ask what actually happened before making it an issue?"
He then fixed them with a serious stare.
"And the irony—you seem to already know the story about me hitting that servant, yet you still make it a problem. Even knowing the facts, you continue to push it. Wow. Or is punishing a disobedient servant who dares to defy their master not a practice among elites? If so, I'll make a note of it."
A sharp jab of words followed as he looked directly at his father.
"And Father… you talk about violence being inappropriate for elites, or whatever that was. But did you forget—or conveniently ignore—how you slapped me this morning? Especially just because you misunderstood, thinking I hit that liar," he said firmly, referring to David.
He shrugged casually.
"Yep. I guess Sis Sarah was right. Maybe there really is a bruise on my cheek. And I'm pretty sure that was from your slap, Father."
Silence fell over the room, stunned by his relentless verbal assault. Guilt flashed across Edward's face, recalling the morning incident. Sandra shifted uneasily, disturbed by Edward's slap to Al. Nobody seemed to know how to respond.
Aurielle, aware of the servant-hitting incident, could only lower her head, realizing that if she were in Al's place, she might have acted even more ruthless. So, to her, Al didn't deserve the blame.
David looked slightly annoyed at being labeled a lying child again. Meanwhile, Sarah, though slightly stepping back, seemed secretly amused to know that Al had been slapped this morning.
But Al's next words shocked them further.
"And where do I go to school? Funny you don't know, but I understand my data is restricted at the orphanage, and maybe I forgot to mention it myself," Al continued.
"I go to... HIHS."
His strange remark gave them an opening to respond. It was as if Al had just scolded them, only to break the tension with a line that sounded like a joke. Truly a comedic pattern.
"HIHS? Hazandeen International High School?" Aurielle asked in surprise.
Al nodded, "Yes. That's the one."
For a moment, the room was silent.
Then… laughter.
Faint, restrained, but present. Except for Sarah, who laughed freely.
Sarah's cynical, mocking laughter grated on the ears, and even some nearby servants covered their mouths to stifle laughs, though they shouldn't have been eavesdropping. Al's words had struck them as genuinely hilarious.
The intense, tense atmosphere immediately shifted into a lighter mood as they perceived it as a joke.
"HIHS?" Sarah repeated, laughing as if she'd just heard a clown claiming to be president.
"Don't dream, Al. That's the most elite school. There's no way you could get in there."
Edward and Sandra could only exchange baffled glances, completely lost in the situation.
"Al… I don't want to laugh. But are you serious, or… just trying to lighten the mood with a joke?" Aurielle asked.
David turned away, wanting to release a laugh like Sarah, but restrained himself to maintain his image.
Al stayed still for a moment, his previously serious expression shifting slightly… to one of exasperation. He didn't respond immediately and merely rubbed his face.
A crooked smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Wow… I didn't know you were not only irrational but also double-standarded. But honestly… that's how I've felt since I came here."
"Hm? What do you mean?" Edward asked.
"You don't believe me about my school, do you? You need proof to believe me rather than trusting my word," he said.
They nodded.
"Of course, Al. How could we just believe you?" Aurielle said.
"Right. You go to HIHS, hahaha. You must be dreaming," added Sarah.
Al patted his head and sighed deeply before responding.
"Sigh… that's been my point all along. Oh God… I hope you realize it now."
"What do you mean, Al?" Aurielle asked.
"The harassment case before… I asked for proof, yet you all believed just the testimonies. Father slapped me this morning. And tonight, I'm scolded because you thought I fought. All without proof. Yet you can believe testimony alone," Al explained.
He then looked at each of them in turn.
"And now, I give you testimony that I go to HIHS. Yet you don't believe me and even ask for proof. That's what I call double standards."
He exhaled, staring at the ceiling.
"It seems like you're just looking for ways to blame me. Is that what satisfies you? If so… there's something wrong with your mentality. Wow." He added, slightly impressed with his own words.
"By the way… I have contacts for psychiatric experts if you need them."
Of course, his words landed like a heavy blow, summarizing everything that had happened since he came to this family. It left them utterly speechless.
"Al…" Sandra whispered.
Edward pondered in silence.
Aurielle stepped closer.
"Al… can you not insult us? Do you think all of this was easy for us to accept you? Everything feels strange, all this chaos started when you arrived. Don't you realize that?"
Al just shook his head.
"Realize what? That you think I'm a jinx? And I insult you for acting… weird? Right or wrong, I've felt since I arrived, you're the ones being condescend…" he trailed off.
It was obvious his body was starting to tremble, his emotions unstable.
Wow… at times like this… my emotions… Tchh. I can't continue if this keeps up, he thought.
"What's wrong, Al? Are you going to argue endlessly without understanding your position?" Aurielle asked, seeing him silent.
"I know you're young and passionate, easily offended, and all that. I was fiery like you at your age too. But please, stop making trouble."
Al wanted to respond. And indeed, though mentally mature, his 17-year-old body still influenced his impulsive behavior, creating a slight disconnect between mind and body.
He exhaled, deciding not to continue.
"Alright. Whatever it is… I understand. I apologize if it seemed like I was insulting you," he said, trying to end the situation before his emotions spiraled further.
Seeing Al seemingly stop resisting, with a clearly uncomfortable expression, they felt a bit relieved.
As expected, it's extremely unwise to try to subdue this kid if he feels innocent. The problem will just escalate. He's too difficult to command. Edward thought silently.
Even though I understand all his points… my authority as a parent feels gone. He's bold enough to insult and lecture us. What do I do with this kid?
He remained silent, contemplating what to say, fearing Al might fight back again and drag things out.
Finally, he approached.
"Enough. Al… as I said earlier, we only want to teach you a lesson right now, not punish or accuse you unfairly. I will check everything more wisely in the future. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Al just nodded and gave a thumbs-up without a word, still regulating his emotions.
Edward continued.
"Alright. Whether you were right or wrong about punishing the servant, fighting outside, or going to… HIHS… I will try to trust you. Now, return to your room. I don't want this to drag on any longer," he said, seeming to remove the source of conflict rather than reach a resolution.
But...
"Wait," Al said, gathering the last of his emotional endurance.
"Hm? What now, Al? Still causing trouble?" Edward asked, clearly frustrated.
Al shook his head.
"Of course not. My body can't handle going too far in conflict, Father," he said. "I just want a proper resolution for this, rather than letting it end abruptly."
Edward stepped back slightly, a bit confused by Al's approach.
"So… what do you want?" he asked.
Al nodded.
"You said you're assessing my development in this household? Do you even have any indicators or targets to measure it? For example, how should I integrate, or how long are you willing to wait for me to meet your expectations?"
Edward paused, caught off guard by the question. Aurielle and Sandra were too.
"Of course, Al. You came from outside into this family with that wild attitude. There are many things we need to check before accepting you and exposing you to the public," Aurielle said.
Al nodded silently. Aurielle continued.
"A family as large as ours is extremely sensitive to public matters. Imagine if you were publicized and caused chaos outside… our image would be damaged, and over time, this family could collapse. That's our target—the thing we want to see from you."
Al waved a hand, asking for a pause.
"I understand that, and I don't mind. You're a businessman, of course concerned about public image—I get it. I'll accept that, and you don't need to repeat it. But… what about internal acceptance?" he asked, more specifically.
"Internal?" Aurielle murmured.
"Yeah. How will you accept me as part of this family? How do I reach that?" Al asked calmly.
Aurielle looked at her parents. They exchanged confused glances. Internal acceptance wasn't something they often considered—they always focused on whether Al was "safe" as an elite child in terms of public image.
Edward spoke up.
"Honestly… I haven't really set clear rules for that. I just think that once you show more ethics, less wildness, less barbarism, the first step will be complete. Once you pass that stage, we'll be more open to accepting you. Then comes the next step—learning to be elite."
Al looked slightly unsatisfied with the vague answer but tried to understand. At least now he had a target that would be useful for his mission of integration.
He responded.
"Father, Mother, sisters… and also… the liar," he said, naming them one by one, not forgetting to mention David.
"How about we make a bet?" he said with a slight smile.
"A bet? What do you mean? Out of nowhere?" Aurielle asked.
Al laughed softly as his emotions began to stabilize.
"You know… in just these three days, I already feel I would have been better off at the orphanage than here. Maybe partially fulfilling Sis Sarah's and the liar's wishes—they didn't want me here," he said.
Sarah wanted to respond but held back, curious about Al's direction.
David shook his head vigorously and gestured refusal, unwilling to admit he didn't want Al in the house.
"Al… can you stop talking about leaving? Don't mention that," Sandra finally spoke after long silence.
Al responded quickly.
"Relax, Mother. I'm not offering to leave. I just…" He turned to Edward. "…just want to make a bet."
Edward fell silent for a moment, as if a new burden had been laid upon him.
"Go on. What do you want? I hope it's reasonable," he said, a little worried.
Al nodded.
"How about giving me six months? Don't pressure me too much if I haven't committed any major mistakes. Let me see how far I can go to be acceptable to you."
His gaze sharpened.
"And if I fail to meet your expectations, it's fine if you kick me out. Or if you can't, just return me to the orphanage and keep supervision. Or if you want something more extreme… isolate me in a distant place under strict watch. How's that?"
Edward thought for a moment, while Aurielle stepped forward.
"Al, I personally like your offer. But six months? Can you handle it? We were trained in this family for decades. I just don't want you stressed and thinking we're cruel because you fail quickly," she said, trying to make him reconsider.
Al shook his head.
"I think six months is enough. I know you want me to improve quickly—you'd even prefer if I were already like you, as fast as I can." He said casually
"Just... don't compare me to you. You started from within this family, while I start from outside. It's heavier for me because I have to adjust my habits. But at least my mind is already developed," he said casually.
Edward nodded at all of that, then looked at Sandra, who seemed puzzled. He glanced at Sarah, irritated, and David, unreadable.
Finally, he looked at Al and nodded.
"Alright. Having a target is the right thing for a man. Better than doing everything without purpose. I'll give you one year. Six months is too short; anything more than that is too much."
Al nodded with a faint, bright smile, somehow improving Edward's mood immediately.
Regaining his authority, Edward spoke firmly.
"We'll see how it goes. It'll be good if you integrate quickly. And if you fail and get worse, your departure will be decided by how bad it gets."
As if in agreement with the resolution, Al raised his hand, forming a gesture with his thumb and forefinger touching, three fingers extended—a sign of his consent.
Edward nodded, satisfied, then turned to Sarah.
"Sarah, I hope you understand and can hold back for the next year," he said firmly.
Sarah, irritated but seeing it as better than nothing, just nodded silently.
Edward also wanted to say something to David, but he refrained and looked back at Al.
"Alright, Al. I think everything is settled. Are you satisfied?"
Al nodded with a content expression.
"That's better. That's the kind of Father I can call mine," he said, enough to make Edward smile.
He then bowed,
"Alright, Father, Mother, and everyone else. I'd better return to my room now. I don't want to linger here any longer," he said casually.
Edward and the others nodded and let him be.
Al turned and walked out of the living room.
Edward watched his back as he disappeared through the door, smiling to himself.
Did he just acknowledge me as his father? Why does that feel good… he thought.
Sandra felt similarly, though still carrying some negative thoughts. Her mood lifted slightly with the sense that the issue was resolved.
"Oh, by the way… does Al really go to HIHS?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Everyone turned to Sandra.
"I don't know. Honestly, it's hard to believe, almost impossible. HIHS, even if not as strict as MES, only admits elites. How could Al get in?" Edward said skeptically.
"I think the same, Father," David finally found the chance to speak.
"Same here," said Sarah.
Aurielle nodded.
"I'll check it as soon as possible. But about his school… I think he mentioned something to me this morning," she said.
"What was it?" Edward asked.
Aurielle thought for a moment, and actually forgot.
"I don't know, Father. I kind of forgot. I'll ask him tomorrow," she said awkwardly.
Edward just sighed and let it go.
And so ended the long family drama with a resolution—one that aligned with Al's mission in this household, at least for the year to come.
---
In a large room filled with award plaques and academic trophies, David lounged in his plush chair. The chandelier above swung slightly, casting strange shadows—
as if the room itself knew that its master's pride was cracking.
"HIHS?" David muttered, tasting the words with bitterness.
"That orphan brat?"
His brow furrowed. He didn't quite believe it.
But… could it be true?
A voice cut through the silence. Calm and heavy—coming from the shadows.
"Apologies, Master David. But the direction he's taken each day... does lead toward HIHS."
David turned. A tall figure in black uniform, face half-covered, stepped out of the darkness.
"I didn't check there… because it just didn't seem possible he'd be at that school."
David was silent. Then hissed:
"So there are only two possibilities…"
"One, he's lying. Two… he really goes there."
His eyes narrowed.
Both options hurt. But the second was far worse.
WHAM!
Without warning, David kicked the shadow guard straight into the wall. The man hit a wardrobe but stood back up without complaint.
"Tomorrow. Confirm it yourself. Follow him from the house. If he really studies there, report back immediately."
"Yes, sir."
---
In a small, quiet room, Al sat cross-legged on the floor. Shadows veiled his face. He had just finished a light contemplation to ensure his emotions were completely stable.
Although the mission-related issues were now secure, many thoughts still weighed on his mind—his killing intent, and of course, that creature.
He couldn't forget it.
Not human. Not beast. But also… not demon.
"That creature… it slipped past my radar. Impossible. It's not usual for a spiritual being to evade my detection… Could it be from outside both the spiritual and human dimensions? Don't tell me it's a being from Hell…" he muttered, puzzled.
He then stared at the ceiling.
"If that's true," he murmured quietly, "then the human world is in danger."
He then opened his dimensional storage via a ring.
From it, he pulled a set of black clothes—his spiritual hunting attire.
Without a sound, he leapt out the window and vanished into the night.
Even the wind didn't have time to call his name.
---
The next morning, on the sidewalk in front of Hazandeen International High School, a man in a black suit stood still.
The shadow guard blended into the crowd, eyes fixed on one person: Al.
Al arrived with a casual, lazy stride, still slightly sleepy. A hint of annoyance crossed his face.
"Argh… Sis Aurielle must've forgotten to deliver my message. Luckily, I've got a morning agenda at school," he muttered, frustrated at being woken up early again.
But… he could do nothing about it. He entered the gate with his official student card.
The man in the black suit observed Al as he successfully entered, greeted politely by the security guard.
He approached the guard once Al was out of sight.
"Excuse me, sir. That kid… he's a student here?" the man asked.
The guard, slightly startled by the sudden question, nodded after realizing the situation.
"Yes. A student here. Smart… though a bit… unique."
The man went silent.
"Thank you."
With a single move, he vanished into the crowd.
The guard stood frozen. Sweat dripped down his temple. As he stared after Al, he muttered under his breath:
"What danger is following that boy? Please stay safe, kid..."
---
Meanwhile, at Makazhar Elite School—the second-best school in East Indorosia—David took a call in the VIP room.
"Master David, I've confirmed it. He's truly a student there. I saw it with my own eyes. The security confirmed it too."
Click.
David stared at his phone—then threw it against the wall.
It shattered.
"No way… no way!" he hissed.
Defeat spread through him.
Al—the lazy bum, the orphan, the reject—
was attending a school higher than his.
David could lose his inheritance. His status.
Worse… his pride.
He steadied his breath, then stood and faced the mirror.
"I thought you had nothing to be proud of, Al…" he whispered.
"In that case... this game officially begins."
---