Noah stood in place, examining the corpse one last time, knowing he wouldn't find anything—only wasting time and distracting himself from what Derek had said.
"...Calling that a ritual...what nonsense," Noah muttered to himself as memories from the past surged through him.
———————
Three years ago, when Noah was just fifteen and still in the early bloom of youth—on a normal school day like any other, where everyone dragged themselves to class grumpily because it was Monday—the school courtyard echoed with groans and complaints. But far away from that scene, in an old abandoned house children avoided for fear of evil spirits, in the basement—
Noah was hanging from his wrists, tied by a rope suspended from the ceiling. He wore nothing but his pants; his chest and stomach were bare, bruised in hues of red and blue, with small puncture wounds that had bled—wounds that looked like they'd been made with a sharp pencil.
In front of him stood Blake, also fifteen, with empty black eyes devoid of emotion—like a killing machine built for torture. Behind Blake sat Derek, sixteen, casually observing with an expression full of interest, puffing a cigarette nearly burnt to the filter.
Nearby, a fire burned over stacked wood, and beside it lay a flat-headed metal rod and a bucket of water.
Blake grabbed Noah's cheeks tightly and turned his head. All he could see were lifeless eyes, bruises, and cuts covering his own body.
"Brother, do we really have to keep going? My hands are sore," Blake asked, glancing back at Derek. For the first time, emotion returned to his eyes—as if pleading, not for Noah's sake, but because of the pain in his fists from all the beating.
"You'll stop when I tell you to. Keep going, or I'll put you in his place," Derek said coldly. It wasn't a request—it was a command.
Blake hesitated, then gave in and turned back to Noah.
"...Alright," Blake sighed. His eyes went cold again, dead of feeling, as he prepared to resume.
"W-wait, no, please—let me go! I won't tell anyone if you just let me go...please!" Noah begged through tears, desperate for mercy. Pain racked every inch of his body, and he was still bleeding from the puncture wounds. If this kept up, he wouldn't survive.
"...Disgusting," Blake said, his face twisting in revulsion—as if the mere act of pleading for life was revolting.
Then, Blake punched Noah in the chest with all his strength. Noah coughed up saliva, swinging like a rag doll on the rope. For a moment, his breath stopped—the punch had struck his lungs, halting his crying and sobbing. As he swung like a punching bag, Blake continued to hit him, punch after punch, until a loud crack was heard—one of Noah's ribs breaking, Blake finally stopped and turned to his brother.
"That's the third rib, right?" Blake asked. Emotion returned to his face briefly.
"Hmm... you're right. I guess it's time," Derek said as he stood up, putting on thick gloves and picking up the metal rod, now glowing red-hot. He began walking toward Noah. Blake stepped aside.
"You know, Noah... the reason you're here is because you tried to stop my little brother from having his fun—pretending to be a hero. If you'd just kept your head down, you could've lived your life like the rest of the sheep, grazing happily like a pig at a trough. You could've had a pleasant life... if you had just watched," Derek said as he brought the rod closer to Noah's chest, second by second.
"This won't change anything now... I don't like that you think you're equal to humans. You think I care that you don't have a skill? Please. I'm not that racist... But the fact that you think you're human? That's the real filth. This mark—this will remind you every day of what you really are: nothing. Scum. A slave," Derek spat.
He pressed the red-hot metal against Noah's chest. The pain was instant and unbearable—Noah screamed so loud it echoed through the basement. Blake quickly stuffed a thick cloth in Noah's mouth to muffle the sound and avoid attracting attention. Noah bit down with all his might as his throat tore from the screaming and tears streamed down his face. Smoke rose from his skin.
After several eternal seconds of indescribable agony, Derek pulled the rod away. The mark left behind was a branded symbol of an old key—an oval ring at the top, a vertical line running through it, with a small horizontal crossbar just below the ring. It burned into his flesh, melting his skin and cooking the muscle.
The Miller siblings didn't even blink—as if this was a normal, routine act.
Then Derek pulled out a knife and cut the rope. Noah fell hard to the ground. The bruises already hurt, and now he had landed on his broken ribs, making it worse.
Derek dropped the rod in the bucket of water, causing steam to rise with a hiss. He removed his gloves and looked at the leather watch on his wrist.
"I have math class soon. Looks like we won't finish our fun," Derek said with a disappointed click of his tongue.
Noah, crying and broken, turned his eyes toward the basement door. It had opened—and sunlight streamed inside.
———————
The memory ended.
Noah snapped back to reality and shook his head, waking from the haze of memory.
"What a suitable memory to have now, huh?..." he thought to himself, mocking his own timing. He stepped outside, where he saw Livia and Luo Yan speaking with a worker near the entrance. He approached them and tapped Luo Yan on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Oh, Noah... did you have enough time with... your thoughts?" Luo Yan asked gently, clearly worried, unsure of what to say.
"I think so... Did you find anything?" Noah asked, concern written on his face.
"Sort of, Mr. Murad claims he saw two figures enter through the front door just before dawn. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see who they were," Luo Yan explained, turning toward the witness. The man was in his forties, short and bald, with grey eyes and wrinkles on his forehead, around his lips, and eyes. He wore a standard worker's uniform.
"Wasn't he on duty when they entered?" Noah asked, curious. He probably assumed the man was on guard 24/7 like a watchdog—but he was wrong.
"Mr. Murad's shift starts at dawn. He arrived just in time to see them enter and assumed they were with the Winters family. He waited for them to leave, but they never did. So he investigated the rooms, found the girl's body, and informed the university. The professors assigned Livia to the case—and here we are," Luo Yan summarized.
"So he interrupted the killer during the ritual... They must've had help getting in. Maybe the one who got them into the university—could be a student, worker, or even a professor... Then again, they might be working with someone. We might not be dealing with just one killer," Noah thought grimly.
"But what worries me most... is what that student was doing in the lecture hall at dawn?" he pondered.
Livia finally finished questioning Mr. Murad and let him go. She turned to Noah and Luo Yan.
"We might've found a lead. Anyway, since you're here, head to the workers' office. Someone there will show you the camera footage from Lecture Hall 5. In the meantime, Luo Yan and I will double-check the scene for anything we missed," Livia said firmly. Her commanding tone matched her leadership role.
Noah nodded in agreement and walked off to find the workers' office—which he had no idea where it was. Before long, he found himself wandering a maze of halls.
"Maybe this turn," Noah thought as he turned a corner—only to find himself at a four-way intersection.
"...Shit."
———————
Outside, Luo Yan and Livia walked together, seemingly searching for another witness to question.
"Luo Yan... um, let's say I did something... to someone you like. What would you do?" Livia asked nervously. Her eyes brimmed with guilt.
"That depends on what you did exactly... Why are you asking?" Luo Yan replied, puzzled and now intrigued.
"Okay, it's not a big deal… b-but I… I-I kissed Noah on the cheek," Livia said, her chest heavy with guilt, especially knowing that Luo Yan had a crush on Noah.
"…Ah… i-it's fine, really. Besides, it's not like I actually like Noah," Luo Yan reassured Livia—but in doing so, shocked her instead.
"W-what? Luo Yan, did someone hit you on the head with a baseball bat? What do you mean you don't like Noah? You blush whenever he's around and always talk about him. It's obvious you're head over heels for him!" Livia asked nervously. Hearing Luo Yan deny her feelings for Noah felt completely wrong.
"My head's fine… I-I don't really like him… i-it's just that he's h-handsome, and sweet, and he has that warm smile… Every time I see him, I feel safe and happy… i-it's not love or a crush," Luo Yan said anxiously, hoping her words made sense, though she felt like everything she said was nonsense—and it was.
"That is love! …W-wait, could this be Luo Yan's first time falling for someone so hard she doesn't even realize it? She's fallen for him so deeply she practically hit her head from the fall. I have to set her straight—not just as her friend, but as the best wingwoman in the university!" Livia thought to herself, genuinely believing she could pull the strings between Noah and Luo Yan and weave them together.
"It's just that I appreciate the ground he walks on… and I feel joy just knowing I'm breathing the same air he breathes. He's like an angel that descended from paradise to Earth—an angel born in hell!" Luo Yan exclaimed, stunning Livia even more. This wasn't love—it was obsession.
"No, she's just a simp!"
———————
Inside the university building, Noah chose a path at random, relying on luck to find his way—but he found himself going in circles with no solution in sight.
"It's like I've lived this before… but differently. Wandering in a pointless loop, finding no answers, only to return to the beginning. Who am I? Who was I? Who will I become? What path do I want to take? And who do I want to be while walking that path? Do I want to go it alone—or find companions?... They say looking from a different perspective helps when you're stuck in a problem you can't solve. Sirius said he'd rather take a step back and look around, didn't he?" Noah thought to himself, sighing in exhaustion. At that moment, he stepped back—only to bump into something.
He heard a soft gasp and quickly turned, catching the person he'd collided with before they could fall. It was Catherine.
"C-Catherine? Are you okay?" Noah asked, surprised, helping her stand before letting go of her hand.
"I'm fine," Catherine replied in her usual cold tone, nodding.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you—" Noah said apologetically, bowing his head in embarrassment.
"It's fine. What are you doing here anyway?" Catherine asked. From her expression, she didn't seem bothered—if her expression ever changed in the first place.
"Oh, I'm looking for the workers' office… for a few reasons. Do you know where it is?" Noah asked hopefully, silently praying she knew—but he had forgotten something important.
"This is my first time here. What made you think I'd know where that room is?" Catherine replied coldly. It was simple logic—and Noah was an idiot for forgetting it.
"…Right… Well, I'll be going then," Noah said flatly, turning his back on Catherine and walking away.
"Turn left, then right!" Catherine called out, giving Noah directions. He didn't look back, only waved his hand in silent thanks. There was no need to thank her or continue the conversation now that he had what he wanted.
That's what left Catherine standing in place, stunned by his cold reaction.
"…Did he know… I was lying?"