When Armand opened his eyes again, it was as if time had rewound to before the accident.
Or rather, it wasn't as simple as returning to the past. It felt more like he'd fallen into a parallel timeline—one eerily similar to his own, yet subtly different in ways that were almost imperceptible.
The Bureau of Heresy still existed.
The game was still there.
And most importantly—his brother, Georgia, was alive.
Armand could hardly believe it. His brother was safe. He hadn't been captured, hadn't been tortured into madness by Mu Sicheng. In fact, there was no trace of Mu Sicheng at all—no notorious monkey thief running a massive smuggling operation, no chaos wreaked upon the Third District. Armand had spent a month confirming it, over and over again, until the certainty left him breathless with relief.
And yet—beneath that relief, something gnawed at him. A strange, lingering emptiness.
For the first time in a long while, his world was peaceful. No one came to disturb him.
But why?
Had he truly returned to the past, or was this some cruel illusion crafted by hell to ensnare lost souls?
Armand's hand unconsciously drifted to his throat—the same throat that Mu Sicheng had gutted. But here, there were no scars. No evidence of what had happened. It was as if some unseen force had granted him a second chance, allowing him to rewind his life and attempt a more "perfect" future line.
But if even death could be undone—if his sins and mistakes could be erased like words on a page—then what was the meaning of his existence?
Armand didn't have an answer. He was too young to think about such things.
And young people—especially ones like him, who had spent most of their twenty years fighting a thief—weren't good at contemplating the nature of life.
Yet in a world where Mu Sicheng didn't exist, everything felt almost... absurd.
A bitter laugh escaped him as he recalled something Mu Sicheng had once said, disdainfully dismissing the world itself:
"It's just a game—what's the big deal?"
Armand had never understood how Mu Sicheng could so easily detach himself from reality, watching everything from above, treating lives like playthings.
And yet—after all the wanton destruction, the theft, the chaos—Mu Sicheng had once lain beside him on the wasteland, staring up at the endless sky, and murmured softly:
"Armand, the game's no fun without friends."
He had said it so quietly, with his elbow over his eyes, that for a moment, Armand had felt as if the thief might start crying.
Mu Sicheng had been the one who chose to play.
He had been the one who refused to stop.
And yet, in the end, he was the one who seemed the most lost.
Armand took a deep breath, pushing the memory aside.
It didn't matter what kind of world this was. Whether it was a second chance or a cruel trick, he knew one thing for certain—he had to protect Georgia.
He would not let his brother suffer again.
Armand brushed his long hair over his shoulder, tucking the golden-winged emblem of the Golden Dawn guild behind his ear. Georgia always nagged him to keep it neat—said he looked too unruly otherwise.
Unlike his brother, who always tied his hair back, Armand preferred to wear his loose. He hated the tightness. But because Georgia insisted, he kept it well-groomed.
He was heading to the play pool to train.
Georgia had forbidden him from entering the small TV area, claiming it was too dangerous—players couldn't log out at will. So Armand had never stepped foot there since waking up. He had no idea what was happening inside.
His knowledge of the game was still limited. He had spent most of his time after waking up training in the pool, fighting against other players.
If it weren't for the fact that he had secretly joined Golden Dawn behind Georgia's back, his brother might have tried to keep him out of the league entirely. Georgia always wanted to keep him in the safest place possible.
But Armand had signed up.
And not just that—he was good. Good enough that even Georgia couldn't ignore him. As the former vice-captain, he was too skilled to be sidelined.
Even so, Georgia hadn't forgiven him for it. The two were still locked in a cold war.
Which is why, when Armand stepped out of his dormitory and saw Georgia standing at his door—he was stunned.
Georgia met his gaze, his expression unreadable.
"Armand, I dreamt about you," he said.
His voice was distant, as if recalling something unpleasant.
"I don't remember the details. Just that you died… with a man. To protect me."
Armand's hands clenched involuntarily. He lowered his head, lips pressed together in silence.
Georgia sighed and reached out, ruffling his hair. His fingers ghosted over the corner of Armand's eye in an oddly tender motion.
"Sometimes, I wish you'd never grown up."
Armand froze.
"But you have," Georgia murmured, his gaze dropping to Armand's shoulder. A butterfly rested there, its wings gently fluttering.
"Your skill has changed. It used to be a bow—like mine. Now, it's a butterfly. That means your core desire has shifted."
"But no matter how many times I ask, you never tell me why."
Georgia's voice was quiet.
"Ever since we were kids, I could always tell what you were thinking. We even had the same dreams. You used to love that connection between us."
"But now… even when I dream of you, I can't understand what you're thinking."
"You have secrets, Armand."
Armand parted his lips, as if to speak—but in the end, he said nothing.
Georgia watched him for a moment, then exhaled softly, lowering his gaze.
"I can't keep you locked away in a safe place anymore."
His voice was heavy.
"A butterfly can't survive in a cage."
Armand looked up in shock.
Georgia met his gaze evenly.
"The team is patrolling the small TV area today. We're doing an exhibition match for the players who support us. If you're serious about playing in the league…"
"Then take it seriously."
"Pack your things and meet us there."
With that, Georgia turned on his heel and walked away.
Armand stood frozen in place, his mind blank.
Then, slowly, he reached up, touching the spot where Georgia had ruffled his hair. His fingers trembled.
A soft, breathless laugh escaped him, his eyes turning slightly red.
"Yes, Captain!" Armand called after him, voice steady and clear.
The butterfly on his shoulder fluttered its wings.
Small TV Area
Bai Liu's group rested against the side of the central hall, taking a break mid-training. No one dared to approach them, especially because of Tang Erda, and everyone watched in awe at these five players who had won thirteen games in two days.
Bai Liu squinted and pulled his sweaty hair back with his fingers as Mu Sicheng sat next to him, head bowed, panting.
Tang Erda crossed his arms and scolded them, "Three games and you can't last? Didn't you manage ten in a row yesterday?"
"It's because I managed ten games in a row yesterday that my body aches today," Bai Liu replied seriously. "It's too intense, Captain Tang, I can't keep up in an office like this."
Mu Sicheng exhaled a hot breath. "I can keep going, but the other two who didn't call out aren't holding up."
Tang Erda looked over at Liu Jiayi and Muke, both pale and out of breath. He had subconsciously expected everyone in the group to match the standards of future players, forgetting that Muke and Liu Jiayi—slightly weaker than the others—were struggling with the intensity of the training.
Despite their exhaustion, neither had asked to stop, gritting their teeth and enduring.
Mu Sicheng added, "The games you've picked are all quick monster-fighting rounds that don't even require decryption, and some of them we've already cleared. Of course, they're going fast for you, but we're struggling to keep up."
"Take it easy on yourselves, Captain Tang," Bai Liu said with a smile.
Tang Erda paused for a moment and then relented, "Rest for half a dimensional hour."
Bai Liu turned to Liu Jiayi. "Are you close to qualifying for the league based on the number of games you've played?"
Liu Jiayi tapped on the system panel to check and nodded. "Yes, two more to go."
"If you sign up for the league under our guild's name, you're officially quitting the King's Guild, right?" Bai Liu asked.
Liu Jiayi went quiet for a moment. "Yes."
Bai Liu met her gaze. "No regrets?"
Liu Jiayi rolled her eyes. "Did you give me a chance to regret? Now's the time to ask? Ridiculous."
"That's not true," Bai Liu admitted shamelessly, grinning. "But have you ever regretted it?"
"Yes," Liu Jiayi admitted without hesitation, but after a brief pause, she added softly, "... But, well, when you said outside the Heretics Authority that you wouldn't use Hearts' method, that made me feel a little less regretful."
Before she could say more, a commotion erupted at the front, drawing the attention of the crowd.
Bai Liu's group stood up and stepped back. Tang Erda, the tallest with the best view, glanced away from the crowd and frowned. "There's a guild war party out on patrol."
"What guild is this big?" Mu Sicheng asked, raising an eyebrow. "Top three, right?"
Tang Erda turned to Bai Liu and said quietly, "Golden Dawn."
Bai Liu's gaze shifted sideways to the approaching Golden Dawn team.
The Golden Dawn members, in full force, separated the spectators with ease, creating a clear path for the players to walk through. The crowd of onlookers, including many Golden Dawn fans and bettors, watched eagerly. They cheered loudly as they spotted two almost identical faces at the forefront of the team, both shining with excitement.
"… Who's this new player? Georgia's brother?!"
"The twins! This year's pairs will be a treat!"
"Golden Dawn's been keeping this quiet. Are they hiding a killer? What's the skill?"
"Gee, that face is going to cause a frenzy on the field. Georgia didn't get a free pass on his face again, did he?"
The chatter grew louder, drowning out all attention on Bai Liu and his group.
Golden Dawn's arrival overshadowed them, and occasionally, spectators would glance at Bai Liu with contempt, muttering insults.
"That's just the regular team, nothing special… The big guild's team still can't compare."
"Look at their rookie players."
Of course, they wouldn't dare insult Bai Liu directly, especially with Tang Erda standing right there. Everyone was too scared to provoke him.
Bai Liu, unfazed by the comments, had long grown accustomed to being mocked. But Mu Sicheng, already on edge from Tang Erda's pressure about the training, couldn't hold back. Now, these people were getting under his skin.
With a grim expression, Mu Sicheng rolled up his sleeves, ready to teach them a lesson.
When the players saw Mu Sicheng approaching, they didn't expect a competitor to react so aggressively. Once Mu Sicheng grabbed one of them, the players were so frightened they nearly screamed. Only after Bai Liu intervened did Mu Sicheng finally release them, though they kept begging for mercy as they fled.
Mu Sicheng was still furious. He and Bai Liu stood in the inner circle, facing the approaching Golden Dawn team. As he turned, his eyes fixed on the players who had tried to pull him down. He glared at them, preparing to see who this newcomer was that had the crowd in such a frenzy.
At the head of the Golden Dawn team stood a man with a waist-high brown ponytail and striking brown eyes. His uniform—a silver and white ceremonial suit with gold-stitched boots—was impeccably groomed. Two shiny gold winged badges adorned either side of his ponytail.
Behind him, slightly to the right, was a player who looked almost identical, though slightly shorter, with darker brown eyes. His shoulder-length hair was pinned back by a gold winged crest, and a butterfly rested motionlessly on his right shoulder, as if a decorative accessory.
Though he looked young, there was a quiet majesty about him, like a leader who had been at the helm for a long time.
It really was like a big curmudgeon with a little curmudgeon.
Mu Sicheng's eyes narrowed mischievously as he focused on the newcomer, Armand. He rested his gaze on the winged crest behind Armand's ear, an itch forming in his fingers.
He hadn't stolen anything in a while.
The butterfly on Armand's shoulder suddenly fluttered its wings. As Armand walked by, Mu Sicheng—quick as a monkey—reached out with his "monkey paw" and poked Armand behind the ear.
Armand quickly turned, evading the poke with ease. But Mu Sicheng, quicker still, flicked the badge off the back of his head with a sharp motion.
With his long brown hair flowing behind him, Armand turned, his face half-covered. Only his dark brown eyes were visible, but they were clear and unamused.
The badge clattered to the ground with a crisp 'ding'.
Mu Sicheng bent down, scooping the badge up with his fingers, spinning it absently on his nails. He looked up at Armand with a mocking smile. "Is this the alertness of Golden Dawn's ace recruit? See?"
Armand's eyes reflected Mu Sicheng's smug face. His pupils tightened slightly as he stared back.
The butterfly on Armand's shoulder flapped its wings again, and suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, sending Mu Sicheng flying back. The onlookers scattered in fear, and Armand's freshly groomed hair was tousled by the wind.
Standing calmly, Armand retrieved his badge from the ground and pinned it back on his head, turning away without a glance, as if the wind itself was following his every step.
The storm had passed.