Adrian was finally able to land on the island safely. There was no guard following him and no handler watching his every step.
It seemed they were confident he would not run, convinced that anyone who won the Match would naturally choose to become part of their organization.
A winner was expected to be ambitious and hungry, already shaped into someone who would take on missions without hesitation. If they succeeded, they gained freedom and money. If not, they died.
To Ouroboros, that was the simplest logic in the world.
He inhaled slowly, letting the scent of the ocean fill his lungs. It was strange to breathe air that was not filtered through metal bars or heavy training rooms.
The wind felt fresh, almost unfamiliar, as if freedom itself had a taste he had forgotten.
This beach was where everything began. The memory of the three of them running across the sand rose behind his eyelids, bright and warm, almost painful in its sweetness.
