Pressure

Chapter - 46

Inside the room, more precisely the apartment. His jaw tightened as the events that defied logic resurfaced in his mind the moment his consciousness fully returned to his body.

I swear, I don’t understand how I ended up coming back again.

Could it be because that wolf dragged me into this watch?

Zavi’s eyes locked onto the transparent wolf wrapped in a pale grayish-white aura, then shifted to the watch that felt cold against the skin of his hand.

After watching the wolf yawn, it vanished on its own, as if it had never been beside him in the first place.

A freezing sensation crawled across his skin and pierced deep into his bones. Zavi clenched his shirt, his chest rising sharply. With every breath he took, white mist spilled from his lips.

Don’t waste this chance, damn it. I have to survive in this world... and where are those two right now?

After realizing his ears could not catch even the faintest sound, Zavi stood up, one hand bracing against the wall beside him.

He stepped out of the room, unconsciously realizing that he was walking on his own legs without the aid of a wooden cane. The leg that had once been lost to Chalog had regenerated on its own during the clash between the herbal potion and his body.

“Are you two still here? Answer me if you can hear my voice,” Zavi shouted with a grim expression, the unpleasant memories still lingering.

As his voice echoed through the corridor and the building, his ears caught hurried footsteps from below, followed by the scraping sound of shoes against creaking stairs.

From within the dim corridor light, two familiar figures emerged. Moreira and Esvalen. Relief and joy were clearly written on their faces after seeing that Zavi was safe after such a long stretch of uncertainty.

“I thought you wouldn’t keep that promise, Sir,” Moreira said, the corner of his lips lifting as he smiled in relief.

Zavi’s expression froze for a moment when he saw a black shadow grinning wickedly above Esvalen’s head.

“Ah...” Zavi couldn’t hide his shock. His body refused to move as if restrained by something unseen, his breath caught in his throat until his face began to turn blue.

Seeing Zavi’s behavior grow increasingly strange, they exchanged confused looks. Then Esvalen stepped forward, unable to hold back the question circling in her mind.

“You see it, don’t you? You can see it,” she asked, her voice restrained, her gaze lifted upward.

“Yes,” Zavi answered hesitantly. The force restraining his body vanished moments later as the shadow disappeared, and his breathing slowly stabilized.

Esvalen leaned closer until her lips were near Zavi’s ear, then spoke slowly but firmly, her voice slightly suppressed. “Yesterday, I met it. Yes, I don’t know why it could be with you, and... it left a short message. ‘Soon, I’ll come to take you.’ That’s what it said.”

“I don’t even know why a fifth-tier evil spirit would speak like that,” Esvalen added in confusion, fully aware that a fifth-tier evil spirit could exist anywhere, even within a human body. Even within Zavi.

Moreira coughed once, breaking the tension in the corridor and drawing their attention to him.

“So, what do we do next?” he muttered. “Ah, right. Have you heard that Moran’s condition is no longer what it used to be?” he asked, his sharp gaze watching Zavi closely, gauging what decision he would make in a situation like this.

Does that mean a terrorist attack? Or something worse, Chalog, destroying the city? What about District Chapena? Are the two of them safe?

The thought filled his mind with unease and restlessness. Yet, on the other hand, he believed Ren would instinctively protect his mother and younger sibling.

Zavi inhaled slowly, then exhaled before asking, “What exactly happened?”

Moreira stepped aside, leaning against the wooden railing of the second floor that reflected sunlight filtering through gaps in the building. His gaze remained fixed on the two of them as he answered based on what he had heard earlier that morning. “Yes. The northern, northeastern, and eastern outskirts were suddenly destroyed overnight, leaving nothing but rubble.”

“Overnight?” Zavi murmured, his brows knitting as he failed to hide his shock.

At the word “East,” his ears rang, and his hands began to tremble violently. He didn’t know whether the destruction had anything to do with that cult, or if someone else was responsible for all of this.

Moreira merely shrugged slightly, as if uncertain whether the reports were truly accurate. But one thing was clear. Half of Chapena was no longer habitable, and many residents had been forced to evacuate to safer places.

His thoughts suddenly returned to the streets of Minehold. He realized that the rumors he had overheard back then were true after all. What unsettled him was how he could have known. As if he had already seen that future himself. And what weighed on him even more was the possibility that they were the ones behind it all.

“I suppose Lord Kopling and Lady Esvalen would suggest checking the place as well, wouldn’t they?” Moreira said, straightening his posture as he slipped a hand into his coat pocket and retrieved something.

Then he stepped closer without waiting for a response, pulling his hand out to reveal a pair of black gloves resting in his palm.

“Please take these, Sir. You could say this is... a gift, as an apology.”

Zavi frowned slightly at the strange statement.

What is this guy talking about now? Did something happen while I was trapped in that state of uncertainty countless times?

As he pondered it, a strange turmoil welled up in his stomach, rising to his throat and lingering in his mouth for several seconds as if he were about to vomit.

Zavi quickly covered his mouth with his hand, preventing it from spilling everywhere.

“Umm...” As he tried to voice his discomfort, he stepped past them, rushed down the stairs, and ran toward the bathroom on the right side of the apartment, beside the living room.

From the upper floor, their footsteps halted. The air in the corridor felt heavier, colder, as their gazes met for several seconds that stretched far too long.

Before parting, they spoke in voices barely audible. Short, fragmented sentences slipped between pauses, as if the corridor itself pressed down on their words, forcing them to remain there.

After that, the hallway fell silent once more. Neither of them moved immediately. Jaws clenched, breaths held, and the one who looked away first left behind something they were not yet ready to face.

Several minutes later, they gathered in front of the apartment door, still left ajar.

Zavi and Moreira wore knee-length black coats with matching gloves, while Esvalen remained as she was before. A neatly tailored black dress, a boater hat resting atop her head, trimmed with black feathered accessories along its edge.

Zavi’s gaze briefly shifted as Esvalen turned the apartment key. The metallic sound was short and dry. He watched as she placed the key into a small metal box beside the door and closed it with a calm motion, as if it were a routine gesture.

Zavi inhaled, then exhaled slowly. His shoulders dropped slightly, yet his fingers clenched tightly beneath the gloves.

“About what happened earlier,” he finally said. His voice came out lower than he expected. He didn’t look at anyone. “How long was I like that?”

Moreira tightened his gloves, pulling the black fabric neatly over his wrists. Only then did he answer, his tone restrained, almost cautious.

“Over a month, perhaps. And... Esvalen covered the additional costs until you fully regained consciousness.”

Zavi lifted his head. His eyes widened for a moment, as if something struck him from within. His breath faltered before steadying again, but his gaze lost focus, staring straight ahead without truly seeing anything.

“What’s the date today?” he asked quickly, almost cutting through the silence, as if he feared the answer would vanish if asked too late.

“December twentieth. Saturday,” Moreira replied calmly.

Zavi fell silent.

That strange world flashed through his mind again. Repeating fragments, familiar faces, deaths that never truly ended.

Could it be that place had no fixed flow of time? Perhaps I lived there for two hundred years. Or more. Long enough to witness the same events repeat endlessly. Long enough to feel my mind slowly erode, second by second, never fully breaking, only cracking. And cracking again.

Esvalen stepped closer. Her expression remained flat, as if none of the previous events had left a trace behind.

“So,” she said softly. “Do the two of you want to go back there?”

She pressed her boater hat down slightly. Not to hide her face, but because she didn’t want to see theirs.

Zavi swallowed.

Something felt wrong inside his head. The sensation came without shape, only a dull pressure that continued to settle deeper. He found himself wanting to say something. An apology, perhaps. To the two of them. To Aurora. To family. To someone who had once stood before him, wanting to speak, only to be ignored.

Zavi lifted his head. The midday wind brushed against his face, cold and clean. He let it pass, letting the breeze sweep away the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes, as if doing so could take everything else with it.

“Yes... I don’t know if the three of them are safe there,” Moreira finally replied. His voice sounded calm, but his eyes had not fully escaped the shadow of the past month. The shadow of a friend he had left behind.

He didn’t know what to say after truly meeting them again. Lying about wanting to do business with someone, promising a reward once the job was done. Yet what churned his thoughts relentlessly was whether they were still alive. And whether he would still be allowed to apologize after that.