He felt a sharp chill crawl down his spine — then pain. A piercing sting burned across his neck.
Before he could move, he realised a long, white sword was pressed against his throat. Blood dripped slowly down his skin.
He looked up, trying to see who it was.
Black hair. Brown eyes. That beautiful face.
His expression darkened.
It was Selpe.
She was too fast. Too sharp. None of it made sense — nothing did.
Her voice was cold and emotionless.
"Who are you? Speak — or die."
He coughed, quickly removing the mask and raising his hands.
"Wait—wait! Selpe! It's me… it's me, Ibaan!"
Her sword trembled for a moment, then her eyes widened. She dismissed the blade in an instant and threw her arms around him.
"Wait—are you okay?"
The pain in his neck didn't fade. He touched the wound — blood still seeped through his fingers.
She hadn't even slashed him, just placed her sword there…and yet it was still bleeding.
She noticed the bleeding neck and said, her voice shaky, "Oh my—wait!"
Right after, she grabbed his neck and pressed her lips to the wound, sucking the blood. It wasn't because she wanted to drink it—no, it was because that was how she could heal.
It was the same thing she did when the original Ibaan had once cut his finger by mistake.
He felt the warmth spread across his neck, and the pain slowly vanished.
When she was done, she looked at him with a frown.
"But what were you really doing? And that mask? I thought it was some thief or criminal."
"It was the mask of [Saint of Dusk]."
She smacked her palm against her forehead. "Oh! I forgot about that—you told me about the gang this morning."
Yes, he had told her about the gang's name and its formation earlier that day. She didn't reject the idea of using that name; instead, she liked it and said it suited them well.
After a short pause, she continued, "Ah, but tell me—why were you coming toward the class?"
He sighed and stood up. "Do you have any idea what the hell is even happening—the security defense team?"
She looked down at the grassy ground, her face blank. "I don't really understand it, but I feel like something already happened… something terrible. And something's about to happen again. I feel like something is missing, but I can't figure out what."
The moment her words left her lips, Ibaan felt a realization hit him—or rather, realization didn't come, it struck.
Maybe he had just found the reason behind Selpe's strange behavior that morning.
He quickly asked,
"Wait a second, Selpe… do you know about the private detective Clami Almond, the one who went missing?"
She frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Eh? Who's that?"
Ibaan's expression froze.
'Yes. My conclusion is right. Everyone has forgotten about that detective.
Now I understand why Mr. Shepard said, "Don't ever cross paths with them—or you'll be erased from existence."
If that's true, then everything about the detective would be erased too…'
He also remembered Shepard's other warning— "Beware of the Attainers."
Just the thought of it now sent a chill through him. How horrifying would it be if someone vanished completely—erased from memory, from the world itself—leaving behind nothing but imbalance?
"Why do you ask?" Selpe said, half-curious, half-amused.
"Never mind," Ibaan replied quietly. "Let's go back home."
She stood up. "Alright. But let's first inform Mr. Shepard about the mission completion."
He looked at her and nodded.
***
Ibaan and Selpe entered the underground basement in Mr. Shepard's apartment.
Mr. Shepard was sitting on his sofa, a cigarette in his hand, smoke flowing out of it.
He pressed it into the ashtray, let out another puff of smoke from his mouth, and said without looking at them, "Done with the mission?"
Selpe replied indifferently, "Yes."
With that said, they sat on the opposite seats, and she continued, "We formed the gang and it's called Servants of Will."
There was a moment of awkward silence between them.
"I don't care about the name… Anyways, I will enlist you in the main and some side missions," he said and paused for Ibaan to speak, as he had tried to.
"Mr. Shepard, do you have any idea about the recent defense security's abnormal behavior—" Before he could even continue, Mr. Shepard interrupted him.
"Wait a second! Could you be more specific?"
'Huh?'
What the hell was that?
'He really is abnormal despite his… actions.'
Ibaan was really annoyed as well as confused. What was the reason to interrupt? Couldn't he wait for him to finish his sentence first? He was about to explain it.
With a cough, Ibaan continued, "I think the private detective was missing, that's why the Custodians and Sentinels were investigating in the Singing Street. But their unusual behavior was that they themselves didn't know why they were here — even the higher-ups."
Mr. Shepard's expression froze, but after a moment of awkward silence, he adjusted himself and, raising an eyebrow, said, "You exceed my expectations. You really have no effect from The Attainers—only a few are capable of that."
Standing up and pacing around the room, he continued, "You're right. The defense security was about to investigate the private detective's case in the Singing Street, but before they could—" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at Ibaan. "They erased the existence of that private detective… because that detective was the one I killed that day, even though his body disappeared."
Ibaan swallowed hard. Selpe only stared at them, confused, but she stayed silent, not preferring to interrupt.
The Attainers were truly horrifying — far more mysterious and dangerous than what the author had described in the book. Just the thought of them sent chills down Ibaan's spine.
Yet one question lingered in his mind — how were he and Mr. Shepard not affected by the erasure of the detective's existence?
But he had no answer.
"But how are we unable to forget then?" Ibaan finally asked, his voice curious but uneasy.
Mr. Shepard walked back to the sofa and said,
"In my case, and for a few others, it's because of the protection of…"