The distant rumble of carriages mixed with the murmur of the crowd, while the golden glow of magical lamps illuminated Velmara's streets. Yuta walked calmly along the cobblestones, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat. The night wind lifted his purple collar and strands of hair over his forehead. He appeared relaxed—but every step was precise, every movement calculated.
> "Nothing like a good meal after almost dying to an immortal witch," he murmured, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
People looked at him with suspicion. Few ever carried that arrogant gaze, the aura of someone who could vanish at any moment. The underworld's most wanted thief—and the city's most mysterious man.
He paused in front of a luxurious restaurant, the golden letters of its sign gleaming: Lunaxis Del Mare. He entered as though he owned the place. All eyes turned. Some whispered, others looked away—they knew exactly who he was.
> "Table for one," he said, tossing a silver coin across the counter.
The attendant nodded nervously, confirming the reservation. Yuta sat near the window, observing the streets outside. He pulled out a thin cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers—a minor magic trick stolen from a fifth-rate mage. Inhaling, he calculated his next targets, weighing rumors and rewards. But fate—or chaos—had another plan that night.
> "That scent… far too expensive for someone dining alone," a feminine voice purred, teasingly.
Yuta looked up.
Light pink hair shimmered like colored mist. Intense blue eyes pierced him, sharp and calculating. Her slender, elegant form, dressed in a short jacket and tight pants, accentuated every movement. She tilted her head, a teasing smile on her lips.
> "May I sit?" she asked, already pulling out a chair.
Yuta raised a brow, intrigued and amused.
> "You've already sat… I guess I can't say no, right?" he replied, extinguishing the cigarette.
Lyra rested her chin on her hand, studying him carefully.
> "You seem like someone who enjoys danger."
"I only enjoy it when danger pays well," he said, that half-smile capable of melting any emotional armor.
They laughed, tension easing as wine and exquisite dishes arrived. Yuta ordered another portion for her without hesitation. The conversation flowed—magic, rumors, powerful artifacts—but beneath casual words, both were analyzing each other, measuring intent and strength.
Then, Lyra slipped.
> "You don't seem like the type Lilith would leave alive," she said, unaware of the trap she'd just set.
Yuta froze mid-bite. Silence fell like a blade. His eyes glowed a cold, threatening purple.
> "…Interesting."
"What was that?" she asked, feigning innocence.
"Nothing," he said, smiling. "Just remembered… I'm afraid of heights."
Before she could react, the floor disappeared. The restaurant vanished in a snap of magic.
Air roared past Lyra, chilling her skin—they were plummeting hundreds of meters above the city.
> "What…?!" she screamed, hair whipping in the wind, heart racing.
Above her, Yuta floated upside down, the same teasing grin he always wore.
> "Never heard of dinner at altitude?" he shouted, laughter cutting through the wind.
Lyra conjured magic, pink circles igniting beneath her feet. Purple energy, black reflections, dense and pulsating, kept her afloat. But before relief could settle, a violet streak—Yuta's spell—sliced across the air.
> "Reverse Shadows!"
The impact struck her barrier, sending her crashing like lightning, knees slamming into stone and cracking the floor.
> "Damn it…"
She glared up. Yuta stood on a distant rooftop, coat flaring, hands in his pockets. Their eyes met. For a brief moment, time froze: two worlds colliding, thief and hunter, a smile promising destruction and destiny.
Lyra raised her hand to cast another spell, but Yuta only waved and vanished, leaving a teasing echo of laughter. Her heart raced, caught between frustration and curiosity.
> "How… can a human… use magic like that?" she whispered, staring into the empty night sky.
The chase continued. Wind tore like blades as Yuta and Lyra fell, Velmara's lights twinkling below like distant stars. Lyra conjured black circles edged in purple, slowly controlling her descent—but Yuta's next strike sent a shockwave through her barrier, slamming her against the ground as stones and debris scattered.
Yuta hovered above, casual, hands in pockets, smile still teasing.
> "I'm impressed…" she said, catching her breath.
"Impressed? I think you haven't seen anything yet," he replied, eyes locked on hers.
Tension, anger, fascination—two opposing worlds, two dangerous forces, yet an undeniable chemistry simmered beneath.
> "You're really… different," she murmured.
"Different is my middle name," he said, crossing his arms. "But you… aren't ordinary either, huh?"
Lyra frowned, lips pressed tight, trying not to be drawn in. Yet she couldn't deny the pull he had over her. With a swift motion, Yuta vanished. The wind ceased abruptly. Lyra was alone in the warehouse, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
She activated advanced magical tracking, a thread of purple energy connecting to Yuta's residual essence. She could sense every invisible step, every breath. He was heading toward an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Velmara. She gritted her teeth—he wouldn't escape easily.
Thoughts crowded her mind: Who was he, really? How could he manipulate magic so freely? What was the true purpose of his theft?
And beneath it all, a feeling she didn't expect:
> "He's… irritatingly attractive…" she murmured, cheeks flushing.
The warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted doors groaning in the wind. Lyra landed silently on a nearby roof, watching Yuta enter calmly. Every step he took was calculated, every gesture provocative.
> "Time to find out what he really wants," she muttered.
Magic pulsed through her hands as she floated silently into the warehouse, tension and energy thick in the air. Yuta appeared in her sight, calm, sitting at the center, hands in pockets, a subtle, provocative smile on his lips.
> "I was expecting you," he said without standing.
"Seems like you're more interested than you should be," he added sarcastically.
Lyra raised her hand, ready to strike, but the weight of his gaze made her hesitate. He wasn't just a thief; there was depth, power, something she couldn't yet comprehend.
In that moment, she realized: Yuta wasn't just dangerous. He was unforgettable.
Metallic creaks echoed through the warehouse, mingling with residual magical energy. Yuta rose slowly.
> "But don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you…" he said, that teasing smile still in place, vanishing suddenly and leaving only a residual clone behind—one Lyra hadn't yet recognized as fake.
She looked around, frustrated and confused.
> "This isn't over…" she muttered, clenching her fists, caught between anger, confusion, and… curiosity about the most incredible human she'd ever met.