CHAPTER 88: CHAPTER 10.16 : YURA & DEVY (4)

Women’s Restroom – Ten Minutes Later

Water streamed from the faucet, splashing against the pristine marble sink. Droplets scattered outward, falling rhythmically along the edges of the basin, creating a steady dripping echo that only served to emphasize the profound silence filling the restroom.

Yura gazed at her own reflection in the mirror. A face cold, arrogant, flawless in its symmetry—yet behind that mask, her eyes trembled faintly, pupils dilating ever so slightly.

She lowered her head for a brief moment, only to snap it back up sharply, as if trying to forcibly convince herself of something. The same hand that had so confidently pressed against Al’s cheek moments ago now hung trembling slightly at her side. She clenched her fingers into a fist, then released them, over and over again, in a restless cycle.

"...Why? Why am I like this..." she whispered softly. The fragile murmur was nearly drowned beneath the steady hiss of running water, so faint it was almost inaudible.

Devy stood stationed by the door, her posture calm and disciplined, arms folded across her chest. She cast a brief sidelong glance at Yura before speaking in a low, measured tone.

"I believe you’ve calmed down now. We’ve been here for quite some time already. Would it not be best if we returned?"

Yura exhaled a long, heavy breath, her slender frame leaning against the sink. Her arms dangled loosely at her sides, head tilted back slightly. A laugh escaped her lips—quiet, brittle, edged with bitterness. She hardly seemed to care what Devy had just said.

"They said he’s cute... that it was love at first sight..." she murmured faintly, almost to herself.

Devy stepped forward half a pace, as though attempting to soothe her mistress, yet maintained a respectful distance—like a knight who understood the sacred boundary between loyalty and intrusion.

"We can always search for someone else if you feel unsettled with him. Choosing recklessly would be dangerous for your reputation. There are still many figures far more..."

"No." Yura’s curt response sliced through Devy’s words. Her tone was flat, absolute. Her eyes remained locked on the mirror before her, meeting her own reflection with an expression of unwavering determination. Her chin lifted, her lips pressed into a thin line—resolute and unshakable.

Devy lowered her gaze respectfully, choosing silence.

Yura’s shoulders began to tremble faintly. The aura of icy pride that usually surrounded her dissipated, revealing a fragile side of her that almost no one had ever been permitted to witness.

"He... He..." she whispered, voice trembling.

Devy’s brow arched ever so slightly, curiosity flickering in her usually composed eyes.

"He?" she prompted carefully.

"He is so... CUTE!" Yura burst out, her voice brimming with sudden, unrestrained excitement.

BRAK! Her hands shot up, clutching her flushed cheeks. Her face burned a vivid red, her pupils practically radiating the shape of pink hearts. Her breathing grew erratic, her chest rising and falling quickly with each pounding heartbeat.

Devy froze, utterly stunned by the outburst. Her lips parted, but no words managed to escape.

"I have never seen anyone that adorable before! Where in the world did that boy come from? When I saw his photo I wasn’t particularly impressed, but seeing him up close, face-to-face... Kyaaaaaa!" Yura squealed, shaking her head from side to side, eyes shut tight as though she were indulging in a feverish daydream. She even slapped her own cheeks repeatedly, making soft "puf puf puf" noises, as if desperately trying to smother her own embarrassment.

"Miss Yura... Are you joking right now? Or perhaps you’re not feeling well? Should I take you to the hospital?" Devy asked in bewilderment, tilting her head slightly, her expression pure and genuinely concerned—as though she were seriously contemplating rushing Yura to the ER.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. What should I do? If I had known this would happen, I would’ve dressed even more stylishly! Do you think I look okay? Will he like the way I look?" Yura rambled frantically, spinning halfway around in front of the mirror. She fussed with her hair, patted down her skirt, turning side to side like an idol preparing to step onto the concert stage.

"Miss Yura, what in the world has gotten into you?" Devy asked again, more confused than before.

Yura whirled around, fixing her wide, sparkling eyes directly on her attendant.

"Devy, do you have any magic that can make my face stop blushing like this? I want to hurry back out there and see that adorable face again, but I can’t possibly show up in this condition."

Devy blinked rapidly twice, casting a fleeting glance at the faucet before returning her gaze to Yura. Her expression was a mixture of confusion, helplessness, and resignation.

Yura bit down on her lower lip, the image of Al vivid in her mind. His relaxed demeanor, the calmness in his eyes, and—above all—that unbearably cute face. Each thought sent her heart racing wildly, pounding against her ribs like a war drum.

The faucet continued to run, its steady stream masking the secret confession, a truth that only the walls, the mirror, and the one loyal guardian by the door could ever bear witness to.

"Miss Yura, you’re becoming more and more—" Devy began softly.

DUARRR!!!

A deafening explosion thundered from outside. The mirror quivered violently, droplets from the faucet splashed onto Yura’s clothes, jolting her out of her trance in an instant. Something had just slammed into the café’s structure.

Both Yura and Devy’s eyes sharpened, locking onto the direction of the noise. Instinct surged. Yura’s blush vanished, replaced by a serious expression. Devy extended an arm protectively in front of Yura, stepping closer while channeling magical energy—ready to react to whatever danger was approaching. The ominous resonance of that explosion was no ordinary accident. It carried a sinister energy that prickled at their senses, filling them with unease.

"That sound..." Yura muttered.

"Stay close to me. We’ll hold our ground here." Devy instructed firmly.

"No! What if it involves my friends... what if it involves him?" Yura cried out, panic flashing across her face as she instinctively grabbed Devy’s arm, clutching it tightly.

Devy’s eyes flickered, weighing her mistress’s words.

But then—

BRAK!!!

The violent crack of raw energy tore through the air. It was as though some tremendous force had collided with the world itself.

Even Devy, unshakable as she was, stiffened in tension. Whatever that was, it was no ordinary occurrence. And it boded ill for the people outside.

---

At the very same moment, inside the private room where Al and the others remained—

Thin, white smoke drifted lazily through the air. Chairs had been overturned, the table was fractured along one edge. The entire room bore scars of violent impact, the lingering haze of an explosion slowly thinning to reveal two humanoid silhouettes within the smoke.

Rina and Johan instinctively raised their guard, preparing themselves. Karen, Zaza, and Armin panicked, pressing against one another in the corner, coughing and covering their mouths to shield themselves from the dust.

And Al?

He stood with his body slightly hunched forward, eyes gleaming with a wild light. His lips curved upward into a fierce, exhilarated grin.

It was clear—

A great battle was about to unfold.