The Bookkeeper

Two individuals approached the fountain from the left. The one in cream with silver hair moved with such calm confidence that even from a distance, Raiden knew it was Mack. The other one, though—that one looked different—he was around Raiden’s age.

A skeletal black mask covered half of his face, leaving his eyes and forehead exposed, so thin it seemed fused to his skin, making it impossible to distinguish where the mask ended and the flesh began. Sharp, exaggerated teeth curved outward from it like a predator’s maw.

His eyes were golden with cat-like slit pupils. His dark hair looked a bit messy—slightly messier than Raiden’s—and he wore multiple earrings, including a black dangling one. He wore a black high-collared turtleneck.

Raiden swallowed nervously as he stared at him. "He survived that strike?" he muttered to himself as his body began shivering from within, a faint grin forming on his lips.

The person with Mack had a white aura radiating from him, but his appearance didn’t suggest he was just a supporter—he looked like an experienced fighter.

He turned left just as Levi vanished from sight. One moment later, Mack’s strike connected, and Levi crashed into the ground. Raiden gave him a lazy look, touched his own forehead, and shook his head in disappointment.

"You’re surprised to see me alive, huh?" He struck a confident pose. "It’s hard to kill beautiful people like me, you know?" He let out a sigh.

"I’m not here to fight..." Mack said with a cocky expression, smirking. "But at least he is."

Levi finally rose to his feet, clutching his gut. "What’s this arrogance?" he muttered as he moved closer to Raiden.

Raiden shot him a confused look. The question was so perplexing it actually made him tear his gaze away from their opponents.

"That old man is literally like your father..." His voice carried obvious confusion.