"Kill him."
The voice came from behind them both—calm, languid, utterly dismissive. As if ordering someone's death was as mundane as brushing lint off a sleeve.
Olivia had signaled Jhon.
Jhon moved immediately, stepping through the doorway with his rifle already raised.
"You got a death wish or something? Looking for a grave?" he spat, his finger tightening on the trigger without hesitation.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots cracked across the classroom in rapid succession—
—but the bullets never reached Elric.
Clink... clink... clink...
Three small pebbles rolled harmlessly across the tile floor instead. The bullets had simply vanished, replaced by ordinary stones.
Jhon paused, his face tightening with recognition.
"A spatial substitution ability... So you're a superhuman too." He said it like the fact bored him. Seven days into the apocalypse, most awakened ability users weren't beyond Level 3. And to him, anyone under Level 3 was nothing but trash.
"Doesn't matter. You still die here."
He stepped forward, muscles coiling with power. His fist drew back—and then the air shimmered.
A massive transparent force-fist formed in front of him, easily twice the size of a normal human fist, and launched forward like a cannonball.
Elric watched it come and exhaled once, unimpressed.
"Oh? A projection-based strike ability?"
His expression didn't change.
"Then let's answer with fists."
His right arm suddenly glowed red, the skin liquefying into bubbling magma that dripped onto the floor, sizzling and burning through the tiles.
Magma Fist.
He swung.
BOOM!
The two fists collided in mid-air—Jhon's transparent strike meeting Elric's superheated magma—and the force-fist melted instantly, dissolving into dripping vapor and steam.
Jhon's eyes widened as genuine shock finally cracked through his arrogance.
"What—?!"
He didn't even have time to finish the sentence.
Elric's magma fist surged forward—aimed straight for Jhon's chest with killing intent—
BUT—
The blow never landed.
White silk-like filaments erupted out of nowhere like a defensive net—thin as hair but clearly harder than steel—forming a curved thread-shield directly in front of Jhon.
FWOOOM—
Heat roared across the room. The temperature spiked dramatically. The floor tiles crackled and warped from the intense thermal assault.
For an entire minute, the magma burned against the thread barrier, trying to break through.
Finally, the magma dissipated, flames dying out.
When the air cleared—
Olivia stood between Elric and Jhon, perfectly untouched, not a single hair out of place.
Jhon lay at her feet, gasping for breath, his body armor partially melted but still alive thanks to her intervention.
The white thread shield hovering in front of her looked delicate—almost beautiful—but it had held without breaking or burning.
Elric lowered his fist slowly, his eyes narrowing with genuine interest.
"Oh? You actually blocked my Magma Fist."
His voice held neither anger nor panic—just surprise and analytical curiosity.
"It seems you really do have some skill, Olivia."
Because that was the first time anyone had ever withstood that particular attack.
His gaze slid to examine the filaments more carefully—thin, nearly invisible threads woven into an intricate mesh that shimmered faintly in the light.
Thread.
Extremely thin.
Extremely sharp.
Strong enough to slice through bone with just a twitch of her fingers.
It reminded him instantly of something—someone.
Doflamingo's String-String Fruit.
But this wasn't that Devil Fruit. Olivia's threads were weaker—not imbued with Haki or refined through decades of mastery—but the principle was remarkably similar.
A high-level lethal control ability disguised behind elegance and beauty. The kind of power given only to those who were already accustomed to being above everyone else.
Elric exhaled once, reassessing his opponent.
"So, Olivia..."
His eyes lifted to meet hers directly.
"...that's your true ability. Thread manipulation."
Her smile was slight, cold, and effortlessly regal.
"And yours is interesting as well," she replied smoothly. "Spatial displacement, telekinesis, and magma body manipulation. Quite the collection."
Her eyes sharpened, like a blade slipping free of its sheath.
"A little capable, huh?" Her voice carried easily despite the helicopter noise. "I really was underestimated."
A small crackle of static sounded from the radio clipped to her tactical vest.
"Captain Olivia, do you need backup? Awaiting orders." Someone from the helicopter squads overhead.
Olivia didn't even glance upward. "Negative. I'll handle him myself."
Then her full attention settled on Elric—calm, curious, but still fundamentally unimpressed.
"I did not expect someone like you to evolve this quickly." Her eyes gleamed with something between respect and fascination. "In just seven days since the Gray Mist appeared, and you've already reached this? That's beyond impressive. Extraordinary, even."
She took a step closer, her tone shifting to something almost conversational.
"You should be grateful you ran into me today, Elric. A talent like yours shouldn't be drifting around alone, vulnerable to every threat. I'm offering you a place in the Dragon Division First Strike Team. Come with me, and I'll overlook everything that happened back there."
Elric blinked once, genuinely surprised.
Of all the directions this could have gone, recruitment?
He had expected threats, maybe even attempted capture. But an invitation to join? That was unexpected.
And why would he join any organization? He already had his System, his own path, his freedom. Becoming someone's subordinate was the absolute last thing he'd ever consider.
Still... the Dragon Division.
They commanded helicopters. Armored convoys. Absolute authority over military resources. They clearly knew things about this apocalypse that others didn't.
And Olivia had just casually referred to the Gray Mist and the end of the world as if they'd been expecting it.
Elric's curiosity nudged forward. Information was valuable.
"What exactly is this Dragon Division?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. "If you want me to join, you can at least tell me who I'd be working for. Who formed it? What government or organization it belongs to. How it operates."
Olivia exhaled—half patient, half dismissive.
"I can't disclose operational details to an outsider. The Dragon Division is a black-level clearance organization. Even our existence is classified above top secret." Her tone sharpened slightly, though her confidence never wavered. "What I can tell you is this: the mist isn't temporary. The world is going to stay like this permanently. Chaos is the new natural law. Joining us is your best chance—perhaps your only chance—to survive what comes next."
Her voice carried the air of someone extending mercy, not offering a negotiation.
Elric smiled. Very lightly. The kind of smile that meant trouble was coming.
"Alright," he said simply. "I'll join your Dragon Division."
Olivia's eyebrows lifted, genuinely pleased by the easy acceptance. "Good decision. State your conditions. If it's about protecting your family, access to supplies, medical treatment—whatever it is, the Division has the resources to handle it."
Elric nodded thoughtfully, as if carefully considering his request.
"My request is actually quite simple."
Her confidence didn't waver. She fully expected something reasonable—security, food, shelter.
"Go on," she said.
Elric pointed casually behind Olivia, toward where Yvonne stood restrained by soldiers.
"First, convince Yvonne over there to become my girlfriend. And second..."
His eyes flicked back to Olivia, his voice absolutely sincere, completely serious.
"You become my lover."
The rooftop went silent except for the helicopter blades.
Olivia froze mid-breath.
Yvonne's eyes went wide with shock.
Elsa and Liana, watching from behind cover near the rooftop entrance, collectively choked on air.
Even the helicopters seemed to hesitate in the sky, rotors stuttering for just a moment.
Elric's smile didn't waver. He looked completely serious, as if he'd just proposed the most reasonable terms in the world.
"So," he said lightly. "Still recruiting me?"
Olivia's expression slowly transformed—shock melting into cold, murderous fury.
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