Richard moved through the room with quiet precision—patting shoulders, planting reassurance with a smile that never reached his eyes. Arya watched him in silence, trying to understand the rules that governed this group before they stepped out with the first light.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhs3wXF298m
She wasn't planning to confront him. Not yet.
She rose slowly, ignoring the stares her towering metal bow drew, and walked straight to the table.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrOsMdTyMHD
"Mr. Richard." She said his name with flat coldness, and the murmurs dimmed for a moment.
He lifted his gaze to her, wearing that same manufactured warmth. "Oh, Arya... I'd been wondering when you'd finally join us."
She didn't answer that. Instead, she spoke directly, her tone steady. "The route. I want the details. Which path are we taking? And what plan are we following?"
For a brief moment, a heavy silence pressed down. Then Richard exhaled calmly, as if her question was exactly what he'd been waiting for. He smiled, his confident tone ringing out—not just words. There was a charisma to him, an underlying control that made others follow without objection.
Richard spread the map across the worn table and pinned its edges with pieces of metal debris. The survivors gathered close, their breaths unsteady. Arya remained in the shadows, her eyes fixed on his fingers as they moved across the paper, tracing lines as if weaving an inevitable fate.
"Listen carefully," Richard began, his voice low and measured. "We leave at five in the morning, before the monsters reach their peak activity. We'll exit through the shop's back door—straight into the Wash Alley."
His finger drew a jagged line behind the shop.
"That alley is narrow. The damaged metal roofs will shield us from anything that might be watching from above. From there, we push into the residential blocks. We won't take the main streets—those are open traps. We'll move from alley to alley, crossing back corridors and tight courtyards between the houses."
His finger stopped over a wide space on the map. A heavy silence fell before he continued.
"The critical part is passing along the wall of the General Hospital. We won't enter—going in would be mass suicide. But the path beside its outer wall is the only passage not sealed off by rubble and burned-out cars. The high fence will protect us on one side. And monsters are usually drawn to noise in the residential centers—the hospital district is dead now. Nothing goes near it."
The survivors exchanged terrified glances. The thought of being near the hospital was its own nightmare. But Richard pressed on with sternness.
"Once we clear that wall, we'll have covered half the distance. We'll move directly out of the crowded residential block and into the quiet of the industrial zone."
His finger shifted toward large square sections on the map.
"Di Street in the industrial zone will be our target. We'll cut between the abandoned factories until we reach Shipping Warehouse Number 4. There, we'll rest behind its steel doors before taking the final stage toward the outskirts—where the system has marked the safe zone."
Richard raised his head and looked at their faces, offering a calculated smile of reassurance. "The route is long, but it's measured. As long as you stay behind me, we'll make it."
Arya watched Richard as he folded the map. Murmurs of relief began to spread among the survivors like a temporary painkiller. But her eyes remained fixed on him, analyzing every nuance in his voice.
Richard continued, his voice growing more commanding.
"Cam and the front-line men will clear the path. Jad, Samer, and Hussam on the flanks. I'll stay in the center to manage the group and protect the civilians..."
Then his gaze locked onto her. And in that moment, Arya felt the true weight of his words. He wasn't looking at her as a teenage girl. He was looking at her as an arsenal—something he feared and wanted at the same time.
"And you, Arya," he said, his tone laced with poisoned confidence. "Your strength is the key to our crossing. I want your power supporting Cam at the front. Your cat's claws and your wolf's speed are what will open the alley for us. As for you personally... in the rear, with your bow... perfect."
Arya's eyes narrowed.
The scheme was transparent. He wanted to strip her of her personal guards—her Shadows—and place them in his service at the front, while positioning her at the back, far from any influence over the group's decisions. He didn't fear the monsters. He feared that Arya would pull the ground out from under him if she stayed at the center.
Richard raised his voice, a warning to them all, his eyes passing over the pale faces. "We move as one group. Anyone who breaks off or acts alone risks their own life and the lives of everyone else. We will not be able to come back and save you."
A heavy silence settled. Then he turned slowly toward Arya. He tilted his head slightly, that gentle, counterfeit smile perfected by snakes spreading across his face. He spoke in a quiet tone.
"You agree with me completely on this, don't you, Arya? We certainly don't want individual decisions negatively affecting the safety of others."
The words were a public trap. He was pinning her with responsibility for the lives of the weak in the shop. If she objected, she would look like the reckless one who didn't care about their lives. He had used her morality as a leash to bind her movement.
Arya showed no emotion. Richard's psychological pressure, his attempt to impose his will through his power—it crashed against her and dissolved. She didn't care about her image before these sheep. But she did care about reaching the safe zone.
"Of course," Arya answered, her voice cold and brief. She gave him none of the satisfaction he was hoping for.
Internally, she replayed the details of the route: five in the morning... Wash Alley... the hospital wall.
The plan was cohesive. The answers were too ready. And deep inside her, one truth solidified: Richard wasn't leading them toward survival. He was distributing roles in a bloody play he was directing.
I won't follow him... I'll use him.
She brushed the string of her bow. If he wanted her Shadows fighting from the front and her from the back—fine. But he had forgotten one thing: Shadows only follow their master. And when the world went completely dark, there would be nowhere to hide from the Devil he had placed at the rear of his caravan.
---
Arya returned to her dark corner in the shop, sitting among the stacked crates, watching the survivors as they readied themselves and their belongings for tomorrow's march. The whispers and murmurs were hushed. Some were tying their bags. Others were checking their weapons, trying to reassure themselves before dawn.
Arya pulled out a small map from her satchel—one she had taken earlier from a house. She placed her finger on the route Richard had outlined: the narrow alley, the industrial street, the hidden warehouse.
She rearranged it mentally, calculating the time, the distance, the expected monsters. She reached into her bag and touched the Core Shards. She remembered the sensation of power that had surged through her body yesterday when she had consumed one by mistake. It had increased her strength and her Experience. But it had come with a drop in Stability.
The power was tempting, but it came with a clear price—and she didn't know what would happen if her Stability fell too far. So she wouldn't risk it.
Is there another use for them? she thought, watching a man in the middle of the shop toss away a Rank F Core Shard in frustration, muttering, "Useless stones. We need weapons, not gravel!" Meanwhile, someone else kept one, hoping to discover its use later.
Arya looked at her stretched shadow. Feeding the Shadows... The thought sparked in her mind like sudden lightning. If the shards could increase her own strength and Experience, perhaps they could be the perfect fuel for her Shadows.
She tried to close her eyes, but sleep was impossible. She had already rested enough earlier, and staying idle in this charged atmosphere was a waste of time.
After a few moments of thought, she stood quietly. She looked around the shop, then moved to a hidden spot behind the stacked crates. She leaned her back against them and closed her eyes.
---136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKNguNnXuxz
A few meters away, Lisa was watching the situation. She approached Richard, who was reviewing some papers under the dim light of a candle.
"Mr. Richard... I think Arya fell asleep for a bit. She looks tired," Lisa whispered in a relieved tone.
Richard smiled, reassuring. "Thank you for your hard work, Lisa."
She replied with an inward warmth. "No problem... it's my duty to the group."136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy2TliwDOpQ
Only minutes earlier... Richard had approached her with a subtle, hidden smile.
"Could you keep an eye on Arya, if she needs anything, but without her noticing you? She's young, and I'm worried about her. I thought you'd be the best fit to watch over her, with your well-known kindness and your good way with children."
Lisa's cheeks flushed at the praise, and she said with enthusiasm, "Leave it to me, Mr. Richard. You really are a great leader—so attentive to the smallest details and to your followers, unlike..." She glanced toward Cam, who stood behind him like a statue, and finished with sarcasm, "...unlike some people."
Richard laughed softly, placing his hand on his chest with fabricated humility. "That's too much. I'm only doing what my duty requires."
---
Behind the crates, Arya opened one eye. She had felt Lisa's gaze withdraw the moment her task was done.
Disgusting... Arya thought, coldly.
Lisa smiled. And didn't understand why.
Arya made sure no eyes were on her. Then she whispered words that seemed to rise from the depths of the earth. "Come..."
Two pieces of darkness detached from her shadow. The Shadow Cat and the Shadow Wolf materialized in absolute silence. They didn't need spoken commands—the mental link was enough.
Hunt... and strength. That was the only order.
They began to slip out of the shop without a sound. The city was not asleep. It was watching. And in the darkness... the hunt began.
---
Arya felt a faint vibration through her shadow. The cat had changed. It was no longer the same as before. Something... had become more ferocious.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9RHcBnTWZ6
Even with the sun already set, the shadows returned to her.
---
[Current Status: Arya | Level 2 (140/200 XP)]
[Mental Power: Devil — Form 1 (Shadow Legion)]
Active Entity: First Shadow (Shadow Cat) | Level 3 (0/300 XP)
Active Entity: Second Shadow (Shadow Wolf) | Level 2 (10/200 XP)
---
That night, the shop was thick with the survivors' muted tension and the sounds of their anxious turning. Arya didn't fully sleep. She lay among the crates, her eyes half-open, alert to every movement, waiting for five in the morning... the moment the real play would begin.
---136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbsyQ5sRkIE
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