Ethan stood there, eager to accept his payment.

"So that brings your total to two thousand dollars. After the flat tax rate of twenty percent for all Titled income, your final amount is one thousand six hundred."

She ran the cash through a money counter one last time, then neatly placed it into an envelope and slid it across the desk.

He grabbed it instantly, the weight of it feeling... satisfying.

"And for you, miss," she said, turning to the red-eyed woman, "your compensation is now fifty thousand. After tax, that leaves forty thousand. How would you like to receive it? Bank transfer, as usual?"

The A Rank hesitated, seemingly taken aback by the amount, then looked at Ethan, who smiled.

But it wasn’t just any smile; it was almost evil.

"She’ll take cash," he said casually.

The receptionist blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"I apologise, but I’ll need confirmation from-"

She nodded.

The woman paused, then shrugged lightly.

"Very well."

She didn’t question it further.

Moments later, four thick wads of cash were placed into a small paper bag and slid across the counter.

"We are not liable for what happens to your money after this point," she said professionally. "Please sign here to confirm receipt."

There were two separate sheets, each with a dotted line.

Ethan picked up the pen and scribbled something that barely resembled a signature.

’The last thing I signed was my release documents, but even then, I just made something up.’

The A Rank, on the other hand, had neat, elegant writing.

Ethan glanced over and froze slightly.

’Wait...’

"Your name’s Elara?" he asked aloud.

She looked up at him before pouting like a child whose parent had forgotten their birthday.

*Did you really not know that until now?* she signed, her movements sharp and slightly indignant.

Ethan laughed.

"Hey, we were a bit busy trying not to die."

Then he tilted his head slightly.

"What’s my name then?"

She paused.

Then she gave him a sheepish smile.

*Touche.*

Ethan didn’t fully understand the exact meaning of the hand gesture, but the intent was obvious enough.

He chuckled, then extended his hand.

"Ethan."

She blinked at it for a second before taking it, her grip gentle but warm, a small smile forming on her lips.

It was a strange moment, and that’s when...

"Ahem."

The receptionist cleared her throat, smiling faintly as she handed back their IDs.

"That’s everything. Please, go and enjoy your hard-earned money."

She watched them for a moment longer than necessary; the sight before her was one of the most unusual that she had seen. All kinds of Titled had come here to receive their pay, but this was the first time she had seen an E Rank and an A Rank that were so close.

It was almost like something out of a strange romance story.

’The youth these days.’

She smiled to herself as the odd duo went off into the distance.

Little did she know that one carried a demon within her and the other was an opportunistic maniac obsessed with growing stronger. And their meeting was one that would affect the entire world...

-

Without needing to say anything, Ethan and Elara knew exactly what came next...

Food!

"You know any good spots around here?" he asked as they walked out of the building.

Elara shook her head.

*I’m not from around here.*

Ethan nodded slowly.

"Figures."

He glanced around.

They were in Brooklyn, where he grew up, and for a brief moment, a flicker of nostalgia crossed his face.

’Everything’s changed so much.’

Then came a sudden idea.

’I wonder if...’

"Follow me," he said.

Elara nodded.

They picked up the pace and ignored the stares, whispers, and attention as best as they could, jogging a couple of blocks down.

That’s when Ethan stopped and stared.

"No way."

The place he was looking for was still there.

Well, kind of.

What used to be a small, run-down burger joint had transformed into something much bigger: bright signage, a clean exterior, and part of a larger franchise.

’Still a burger joint.’

That was enough for Ethan, who grinned.

’Capitalism at its finest.’

"As long as the food’s fast and good, I’m not complaining."

They headed inside, and the smell hit instantly.

Grease, salt, and meat - it was exactly what they were looking for.

Ethan ordered everything that remotely tickled his fancy, which was pretty much half the menu. Of course, Elara picked up the bill, the blue-eyed man not even offering to pay.

’What can I say? I’m a feminist.’

Then they took a seat in the corner together, away from most people and the quietest. Ethan also felt more comfortable with his back to the wall, remaining alert.

As they waited for their food, he savoured the stillness.

For the first time since entering that gate, he finally had a moment to relax. He leaned back slightly, eyes settling on the girl across from him: the enigmatic A Rank, Elara, whom he knew almost nothing about.

"So..." he began, resting his chin on his hand, a faint smirk playing on his lips, "tell me about yourself?"

His vague question surprised Elara, but then she straightened slightly, her nervous energy shifting into something more focused.

She lifted her hands, fingers poised, clearly preparing to begin what looked like a full, detailed explanation of her life story, judging by the seriousness in her expression.

And then Ethan cut him off with another of his random thoughts.

"Are you actually a mute?"

Her hands froze mid-motion.

The question cut cleanly through the moment.

Ethan felt a chill run down his spine.

The memory of that voice, the one that had come out of her inside the gate, still lingered vividly in his mind. It hadn’t just been speech. It had been something deeper, darker, something that didn’t belong to a normal human.

So the question wasn’t unreasonable.

But judging by her reaction, she didn’t exactly agree.

Her brows furrowed, and she immediately began signing, her movements sharper than before.

*Obviously! Who fakes being mute? If I could talk to you right now, I would!*

Ethan raised his hands slightly in surrender.

"Okay, okay, relax."

She huffed silently, though the irritation was clear in her expression. Then, after a brief pause, her movements slowed, becoming more controlled as she added:

*I’ve struggled with speech since I was a child.*

It was a simple statement, but Ethan caught the shift immediately.

There was something there she didn’t want him to dig into, so he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.

"Alright then," he said casually. "Let’s skip the soppy shit."

His gaze sharpened just a little.

"Why are you so attached to me?"

She didn’t hesitate or avoid the question, answering honestly.

*I was promised that if I stayed by you, it would lend me its power when I need it.*

Ethan’s expression didn’t change, though internally he was puzzled.

’I guess that makes sense...’

"That thing inside you?" he asked, trying to get more detail on that demon.

She nodded.

*When I gained my Title, it took root inside my body. We... share it, I guess. But sometimes it has more control than I do.*

Ethan exhaled slowly, leaning back again as he processed that.

A parasite, partner, or possessor - whatever it was, it wasn’t normal. And most importantly, it had taken an interest in him and seemed to know more about his Title than he did.

That bothered him far more than her situation.

"Why me?" he asked, his tone quieter now. "And what did it mean when it called me a vessel?"

Elara paused.

Then she simply shrugged.

It was a small, helpless motion, but she truly didn’t seem to know. Judging by her expression, she also didn’t like that she didn’t know either.

’I mean, who would?’

But before Ethan could press any further, she signed something that completely derailed his train of thought.

*Can I live with you from now on?*

"What?!"

He blinked.

’Surely I’ve misunderstood that.’

She repeated it, just as casually as before.

*Can I live with you?*

Her expression was relaxed, like she was asking for the time or the weather.

Ethan stared at her.

Then leaned back, running a hand through his hair.

"You want to live with me?"

She nodded firmly without hesitation.

Ethan didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying her.

"Don’t you have... I don’t know... family? Friends? A place of your own?"

Her expression shifted.

It was subtle, but he caught it as she shook her head.

*I live alone and move between random motels.*

That explained a lot.

And the way her hands slowed slightly when mentioning it, the faint tension in her shoulders, there was definitely more to the story. But once again, Ethan didn’t push or ask anything further.

’It’s not my business, and I honestly don’t really care either.’

Instead, he said something that surprised even himself as he did...