Meanwhile, at the Moretti Family Estate—
The dining hall was quiet in the way only powerful households could afford, where even silence carried weight. The long table gleamed under warm chandelier light, polished to perfection, with every plate aligned as if placed by measured intent rather than habit. Outside, the evening breeze brushed against the tall glass windows, but inside, the air felt still… almost tense.
***
A faint crack broke that stillness.
***
Jack's hand froze mid-air.
One of his chopsticks had snapped cleanly in half.
***
His grip had tightened without him realizing it.
***
For a fleeting moment, his face twisted, a shadow of something sharp and unpleasant crossing his features before he smoothed it out. But the damage was done. The broken wood rested in his fingers like a quiet confession.
***
"…Tenant?" he muttered under his breath, though the word carried far more weight than its volume suggested. His gaze lowered to the table, but his mind wasn't there.
"I thought he was just a friend…"
***
A pause.
***
"Now they live together… under the same roof?"
***
Across from him, Vanessa sat with composed grace, her posture straight, her movements measured. She had seen this before, not the situation itself, but the emotion beneath it. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she observed him.
***
"Jack," she said calmly, though there was a faint edge beneath the softness, "what is that expression?"
***
He didn't respond.
***
He stared at his plate, but his eyes were unfocused, as if the food in front of him had ceased to exist.
***
"You've known Celia since you were children," Vanessa continued, her tone steady, controlled. "Stop overreacting."
***
Silence lingered.
***
Then—
***
"Does he really have that much potential?" Jack finally spoke, his voice low but tight, like a string pulled too far. "That Master Alaric Von Seraph would take interest in him?"
***
He lifted his head slowly.
***
"Mother… is he an innate soul?"
***
Vanessa tilted her head slightly, considering the question not just for its words, but for what it implied.
***
"That is what Alaric suspects," she said after a moment. "And the fact that one of the three Spirit Valley Kings is bonded to him…"
***
She paused.
***
"…confirms it to a certain extent."
***
But her expression shifted.
***
A faint uncertainty crept in.
***
"However," she added slowly, "this is not a simple spirit king."
***
Jack's eyes sharpened.
***
"It is an evil Spirit King."
***
The chair scraped violently against the floor.
***
Jack stood up.
***
"I'll handle it."
***
Vanessa's brows lifted, her gaze sharpening immediately.
***
"Handle what exactly?"
***
Jack's tone was calm.
Too calm.
***
"You know," he said, brushing off the broken chopstick pieces as if they were irrelevant, "a conversation. Face-to-face."
***
A pause.
***
"If he's a threat…"
***
His eyes darkened slightly.
***
"…we cut it down before it becomes a tree."
***
Vanessa's gaze hardened.
***
"This is not about Celia," she said firmly, her voice gaining weight, authority threading through every word. "Do not turn this into some childish competition."
***
Jack's jaw tightened.
***
"If he has truly bonded with that spirit," she continued, leaning slightly forward, "and if he remains in control…"
***
Her voice slowed.
***
"…then you should be doing everything in your power to bring him to our side."
***
Not suppress him.
***
Jack's lips curled faintly.
***
"Bring him to our side?" he repeated, the words tasting bitter. "That's not some divine spirit, Mother."
***
His tone sharpened.
***
"That's an evil Spirit King."
***
He took a step forward, his presence growing heavier.
***
"How many hunters… how many tamers… have retained their sanity after bonding with one?"
***
A beat.
***
"You can count them on one hand."
***
Vanessa's patience snapped.
***
Her chopsticks struck the table with a sharp tak, the sound echoing just enough to cut through his rising anger.
***
"Jack," she said, her voice firm now, no longer soft, no longer patient, "I am warning you."
***
A pause.
***
"Do not create a situation that forces me to ground you."
***
Her eyes locked onto his.
***
"Unless Arceus is proven to be a criminal… or affiliated with a dark guild…"
***
Her tone left no room for argument.
***
"You will not touch him."
***
She leaned back slightly, but her gaze remained unyielding.
***
"Potential for evil…"
***
"…is not the same as being evil."
***
The words hung heavy between them.
***
Jack looked at her.
Really looked.
***
And didn't like what he saw.
***
He pushed the bowl away abruptly, the porcelain scraping faintly against the table. The rest of the meal remained untouched.
***
"Don't worry," he said, his voice controlled again, but colder now. "I won't bring trouble to the Moretti Family."
***
A faint smile.
Empty.
***
"You can be assured of that."
***
He turned.
Walked away.
***
But his eyes—
***
Burned.
***
"Arceus…"
***
***
Later that evening—
***
Aclein City, Southern Qudour.
***
The hotel room was quiet, insulated from the noise of the city below. Soft lights reflected off polished surfaces, and the faint hum of distant traffic seeped through the glass like a muted echo of life outside.
***
Steam clung to the bathroom mirror.
***
Roland stepped out, a fresh bathrobe draped over his shoulders, towel in hand as he dried his damp hair. Droplets of water traced slow paths down his neck, disappearing beneath the fabric as he moved casually across the room.
***
On the bed—
***
A small bundle of white fur stirred.
***
The luminous Direwolf pup lay curled like a cloud, its tiny chest rising and falling in soft rhythm. As Roland passed by, it shifted, blinking sleepily before clumsily climbing down from the blanket.
***
It stood.
***
On its hind legs.
***
Front paws raised.
***
Roland paused.
***
A small chuckle escaped him.
***
"For a King Tier potential monster…" he said, bending slightly as he scooped it up with practiced ease, "you're quite the clingy one, aren't you?"
***
The pup let out a soft sound, already curling into his arms as if it belonged there.
***
Roland walked over to the desk, setting himself down as he flipped open his laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, reflecting faintly in his eyes.
***
The pup settled into his lap.
***
Within seconds—
Asleep again.
***
Roland navigated smoothly through his bookmarks, fingers moving with familiarity until a particular page loaded.
***
NovaMart.
***
Several seller names appeared.
***
But his attention locked onto one.
***
No verification badge.
No reputation history.
***
Just a name.
***
**Nexus Pet World.******
***
He clicked.
***
The page loaded.
***
Roland leaned back slightly, his gaze sharpening as he scanned the listings, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk.
***
"Let's see…" he murmured, a faint smile forming. "How many Direwolves you've got this time… Mister."
***
In truth—
***
Roland was the sole shadow behind Arceus's rising sales.
***
Every purchase.
Every resell.
***
It was him.
***
He had bought the eggs at 15,000 credits.
Sold them higher.
***
Then again at 25,000.
Still profitable.
***
Connections in Peking City.
Clients in Aclein.
***
A quiet network.
***
A steady climb.
***
And now—
***
He was back.
***
Ready to repeat the cycle.
***
But—
***
His brows furrowed.
***
"Hmm?"
***
Only one of each.
***
Luminous.
Blazing.
Terran.
Electral.
***
Same as before.
***
But then—
***
He leaned closer.
***
"…Two more?"
***
Hydro.
Shadow.
***
Six types.
***
His fingers paused mid-air.
***
"Seriously?" he muttered, his tone shifting from casual to intrigued. "Six variants of Direwolf eggs?"
***
He clicked through the listings one by one, the details unfolding on the screen.
***
"All King Tier potential…"
***
"Different elements…"
***
His mind began to move faster.
***
"What kind of breeding facility does this guy have?"
***
A beat.
***
"And the prices…"
***
His lips twitched.
***
"Forty thousand now."
***
Understanding dawned.
***
"…He caught on."
***
Roland leaned back in his chair, one hand resting lightly on the sleeping pup, his fingers absentmindedly brushing its fur.
***
"Profit margin drops…" he murmured. "Five thousand per unit…"
***
He exhaled slowly.
***
"Not worth reselling individually anymore."
***
Silence.
***
Then—
***
His eyes lit up.
***
"…Wait."
***
His posture straightened slightly.
***
The idea formed.
***
Expanded.
***
"Before, I was selling them separately…"
***
"But now…"
***
He looked back at the listings.
All six.
***
A faint smile spread across his face.
***
"A complete Direwolf set…"
***
"Sell it as a package."
***
"Market it as a Direwolf Tamer Starter Kit…"
***
His fingers tapped faster now, already planning, already calculating.
***
"Higher perceived value…"
"Exclusive bundle…"
***
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
***
"…Now that's profitable."
***
But then—
***
His gaze narrowed slightly.
***
"First…"
***
He leaned closer to the screen.
***
"I need to find you."
***
The cursor hovered over the seller profile.
***
"You're not just a random seller…"
***
His eyes gleamed.
***
"…You're a supplier."