It was confusing. I’d thought she’d be someone connected to the Crescent or another Transcendent. I wracked my brain to make sense of the situation. ‘First, she had a skill similar to the Breeder’s.’ So far, only Park Ha-yul and Chloe. Those two had each gained optimization skills and grown into S-rank Hunters. There were likely other Hunters, too. In China, they’d captured Yun-yun—trying to use me to set her free—and Chloe relayed information about Chatterbox’s party to them. Not to me, but to Seong Hyun-je. They’d applied for partnership with Seong Hyun-je, yet during Chatterbox’s party they’d been quiet. ‘So clearly their target was Seong Hyun-je, not me.’ Park Ha-yul had paid some attention to me, but not that sister. She hadn’t cared much what happened to me in China—a mere tool. Yet toward Seong Hyun-je she’d been quite friendly. Could it be... marriage was the goal? It sounded flashy, but really? Just marriage? [This is Mari Taylor.] Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱 Mari Taylor smiled at me through a video link on screen. A twenty-something S-rank Hunter. From what Park Ha-yul had said, she must be much older—but with S-ranks, you can’t guess age by looks. And maybe this Mari wasn’t that sister after all. [As posted on Princess Isabella’s SNS, I am indeed Seong Guildmaster’s marriage partner.] Isabella? A data clip popped up: Isabella’s post denying any relationship with the Guildmaster, and confirming Mari Taylor was the real bride-to-be. Why would Isabella... I hurriedly searched on my phone. Several articles had already appeared. ...What happened in Africa? Are Yerim and the others safe? While I scrolled, the TV rolled on with light Q&A. Asked why the Guildmaster hadn’t appeared, Mari said it was his wish. When asked if it was a secret romance, she only smiled. [It’s an arranged match decided by our parents.] ...Parents? Parents? Seong Hyun-je’s parents? Well, he must have had parents on paper, but still—he actually followed their wishes? In some ways that was more shocking than a love match. A union of families, perhaps. My god... yet it did seem to fit. [The ceremony will be held at ten a.m. Sydney time on January first.] With that, Mari’s interview ended. Next came talk of the Guildmaster’s whereabouts. Sydney—wherever that was. But wait... wasn’t this about a Transcendent? What the hell was going on? I clutched my head as Yuhyun stood. “Chartering a plane would be too conspicuous. Let’s rent a flight and go home.” “It’s a family-arranged marriage—there’s no point staying here. We can send our congratulations through the Guild and Dodam.” “Oh, well, about that—wait.” “Sydney’s in Australia, so it’s not even close. Let’s go home, hyung.” St-still. Parents arranging the marriage wasn’t odd in itself. But Seong Hyun-je wouldn’t calmly accept a marriage , would he? I mean... no? And even if he did marry, he wouldn’t do so quietly. Something about all this was off. Yuhyun wrapped himself around me. The youngster tumbled off my knee and bounded across the bed. Hey! Wait! “Why all the haste—think first! Hey! If we go out , I’ll be embarrassed!” My body was gently set back on the bed. Then my brother tugged the blanket around me. Hey! The youngster curled and tumbled, delighted. We’re not playing—stay in there. “Suddenly Australia—this is weird! Yuhyun, wait, I don’t think January first is just a date!” “You worry too much about everyone, hyung.” The blanket threatened to smother me. It tried to roll me up completely, so I drew my dagger, tore the blanket, and emerged. “If we time it exactly—the midnight... is here!” France, Italy, Germany. Not the UK. In these lands, it was precisely midnight on January first when it was ten a.m. in Sydney. “Even people you needn’t worry about—” “Do Hamin’s here, so let’s at least search a bit, okay? We have to join Yerim! Peace, Cye, Noah-ssi, Director Song—they’ll all come!” My brother looked at me with frustration and deeper anxiety. It reminded me of the old days—back when I’d just regressed. “...You mean because Chatterbox nearly trapped me, and I went missing?” “Of course I was scared and worried. But I trust you, hyung.” “Then it’s fine for one day.” Yuhyun fell silent, looking down. Something was definitely off—there was something I didn’t know. “I trust ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) you. That you’d accept and love me no matter who I am.” His voice was dry and withered. My mouth felt dry, too, and I swallowed. “Hey, Han Yuhyun. You—” “I’m staying here. I’ll go find Hamin. Just one day.” Iryn flew to me, and Yuhyun left the room. I stared at the closed door in a daze. Chatterbox’s affair and my disappearance were shocking, but still... I called; she shook her head. “What? What does that mean?” Iryn crawled onto my hand like a tattoo, then fell still—as if refusing any conversation. “...They say my lifespan increased, too.” So why... It seemed he wanted to hide me somewhere no one could find, like before. There had to be a reason—hard to guess. It wasn’t about Chatterbox. When we met in Africa again, he seemed fine. Because I collapsed on my birthday? Or because he’d been encouraged to want more? I sighed and pulled out my phone. Isabella’s SNS... typing her name would yield thousands of results. I lacked the energy to sift through articles. Yuhyun told me not to be nice, and see how he repays me—never mind, I had to speak up. “What’s Seong Hyun-je up to now? Does he even deem it worth sending me a single message?” I saw his last message, where I’d cursed him—nonsense about how his outfit looked great. “...I guess we’re friends of sorts.” I couldn’t pretend otherwise. [Send the invitation by today, or I’ll crash the wedding.] I sent the text I knew he wouldn’t see. How many times had this happened? Birthday invites, party invites—he ghosted me, then showed up and leveled my house. The cruise exploded; the hotel was wrecked. He must have decided to wreck the wedding invitations, too. Was this a signal to destroy them? Then my phone rang. I picked up quickly to a welcome voice. “Yerim! Are you okay? Is everyone safe?” [Yes. We’re at Cairo Airport, checking in to depart for France.] Thank goodness word had spread I’d left Africa; the attacks and pursuit had stopped. Yerim said they’d reach France by tomorrow at the latest. “But what about Isabella? I heard she posted again.” Yerim lowered her voice. [The prince was captured.] [I don’t know—still some royalty? Anyway, that side. Princess Bella told us he was bound by a contract and couldn’t help himself.] “Contract? You mean the royal family seized him?” [Probably? Bella said she couldn’t just leave it. She left, then shortly after posted on SNS.] ...So Mari had ties with an Arab royal house, too. She was bigger than I thought—or her family was. ‘Isabella’s photo with Seong Hyun-je and Cye only made Mari’s wedding claim more credible.’ Yet they’d even taken Samir hostage to force Isabella to post that. “So evidently, Seong Guildmaster’s marriage is no trivial matter.” If they were getting married anyway, I didn’t mind rumors. It wasn’t a correction article—it was pure gossip. Why go to such lengths to dispel it? That meant: ‘Perception matters, just as Chatterbox tried to make me the King of Harmlessness in this world.’ A Transcendent, and certainly the Crescent. It must be connected to her. “Yerim, we have to attend that wedding too.” [Oh no, with just days left, what about the outfit?] “It’s France. England’s right next door—finding a suit shouldn’t be hard.” The question was how to locate Seong Hyun-je. ‘We now know Mari’s face.’ Hamin could handle that. If he combed France, Germany, Italy all night, he could find him in a few days. Surely at least one rat remembered her face. Feed your precious Geumdong properly, Hamin. A well-maintained car, though an older model, pulled up as if fresh off the lot. Marisa stepped out, carrying a large bag. Traveling often across Europe, she kept homes in major countries. This one was in a quiet suburb—neither too big nor too small. A butler who’d heard the car opened the door and took Marisa’s bag. “A guest awaits you in the study.” Marisa took only her phone and wallet from her bag and ascended to the study on the second floor. Outside the large window, bare branches stretched long. Small fluffy birds fluttered among them. The man on the sofa stood as Marisa entered. She offered a brief greeting, placed her phone and wallet on the desk, and sat. Her gaze swept to the sofa and then to the floor below. “I dislike coercive methods.” There lay Samir, unconscious, arms bound behind him. The man who had brought him smiled gently. “I will not refuse. There are more gifted candidates, but one is rather... particular. And—” “Save the rest for after my daughter’s wedding.” “Let him awaken naturally.” With a soft click, a drawer opened. Marisa’s hand retrieved half-knitted yarn. The faint, rhythmic sound of yarn unspooling began. “...I’d planned to handle it alone.” Marisa sighed. This at least brought closure. Even if another imposter appeared, people wouldn’t be easily swayed by repeated claims—they’d simply say many sought to disrupt the wedding. “Now, it’s almost time!” She declared cheerfully and walked on. She’d waited so long for this marriage. With her wedding, her world would be complete. “...May you live happily ever after.” The final chapter of the world Mari inhabited. A page she’d never reached over a long time. “It’s a bit different than I expected. The problem is the prince.” The ceiling was transparent glass. A high moon. Countless flowers and a long veil brushing fingertips. And the ending. Done. “Even if you dislike it, it doesn’t matter.” Mari strode into the garden, stomping. She abandoned any thought of treading lightly. In her sight stood a man dressed all in white. His slightly tousled hair shimmered like pale gold. His eyes were literally golden. His broad shoulders and straight back filled the flawless lines of his white formalwear. ‘Honestly, it pisses me off!’ Mari’s hand clenched tight. Yes, he was perfect on the surface. “Anyway, the wedding will proceed. You can’t refuse.” “I have no intention of refusal.” His gently curved eyes were mesmerizing. If he simply stayed silent, seated, he embodied Mari’s ideal prince. “Didn’t you dislike that?” “I need to meet him at least once.” Looking up at the glass ceiling still lit by sunlight, Seong Hyun-je spoke. He’d never properly faced her. Or rather, he had—but forgotten it all. Mari tilted her head at his cryptic words. “...In the meantime, have I won your favor?” “Hmm, I’m not interested in shells.” “The one standing before me—whose will is it?” His golden eyes, gathering sunlight, turned on Mari. She frowned, dazzlingly. “Miss Mari’s ideal type is?” “There are many types of princes. From hair color, eye color, skin color, height, build—to internal aspects like personality, hobbies, education, interests. One’s surroundings are also a crucial part of one’s make-up.” What among these did Miss Mari desire? At Seong Hyun-je’s question, Mari scowled again. She’d never considered such things. “He’s already before me. Why agonize further?” “For a more interesting ceremony, ponder until before the wedding.” His emotionless gaze, as if deeming the matter unworthy even of boredom, chilled her. Mari gritted her teeth. He was the perfect prince. Yet those eyes were creepily off-putting. She spun on her heel. No matter what Mari did, Seong Hyun-je did not look at her.