"There's definitely something fishy going on here," Lloyd muttered, eyeing one of the compartments in the car.
The Omega-class train car was noticeably different from the Beta-class one—its colors were duller, and there was an unpleasant smell of incense lingering in the air.
Lloyd stood before what appeared to be the only empty compartment. Of course, it wasn't actually empty.
"Excuse me," he said casually, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
His sharp eyes scanned every corner of the small space, but nothing revealed itself.
"Guess it's time to test out these incubus senses."
He closed his eyes, shutting off all his senses except hearing. Slowly, he began to pick up sounds he normally wouldn't notice.
The clattering of the train faded into the background as he focused on one sound in particular. Soon enough, his "echolocation" kicked in—he could hear a heartbeat that wasn't his own, and the faint, shaky rhythm of someone's breathing.
"Looks like I found the little kitty," he said with a crooked grin.
"Uh!?"
The startled voice confirmed his suspicion. Footsteps echoed, rushing toward the exit—but Lloyd blocked the way.
"Nya!"
A yelp followed as something slammed into him.
They both tumbled to the floor, and at last, the source of the commotion came into view.
"Ow! Damn it, that hurt," groaned the girl, her back arching in pain. It had sounded like a nasty fall.
"Purple, huh? Matches the hair," Lloyd thought, shamelessly staring and noticing her lilac-striped panties from his current angle. He certainly wasn't rushing to help her up.
"Damn it, how the hell did you even see me?" she hissed, rubbing the back of her neck with a mix of pain and irritation.
"Well, 'see' isn't exactly the right word," he said with a teasing smirk. "Let's just say I have a sixth sense that helps me in… cat-astrophic situations."
Her head tilted, causing her straight purple hair to sway slightly.
"What are you even talking about?" she asked, confused—until realization dawned on her face.
Her hands shot up to the back of her neck, frantically feeling her tousled hair as if checking for something missing.
"Oh, don't worry—your disguise still works fine," Lloyd said nonchalantly. "But I believe this belongs to you."
He held up an Alpha-class badge.
"Eh? Shit!" she gasped, patting down her clothes in a panic before digging into her pocket—only to pull out another identical badge. "What the—?"
Her wide lilac eyes darted between the badge in her hand and the one Lloyd was holding. Slowly, realization set in—she'd walked right into his trap.
"Well, for a cat, you're not very clever," he said, his grin sharpening. "Didn't even have to ask before you confessed to your little theft."
The girl—Cath—visibly tensed. Her face paled as dizziness hit her.
"Well then, Cath, I think you understand there's nothing you can hide from me. Let's talk business, shall we?" Lloyd said, giving her the same kind of friendly yet threatening smile he'd learned from Angela.
"Tsk, so you even know my name, huh?" Cath crossed her arms, glaring with suspicion, though there was resignation in her eyes too. She knew she was caught. "What do you want?"
Lloyd, of course, already knew her from the novel. In the original story, Reinhart had done something similar—but with much cruder methods.
"Well, I'm sure you understand what'll happen if they find out you're the one who stole that badge," Lloyd said coolly.
Cath didn't look too worried. "Pfft. I'll just return it. No big deal."
Lloyd shook his head slowly.
"That might be true… if you hadn't stolen from an Astoria."
At that, the blood drained from Cath's face. Lloyd could almost see her shrinking under the weight of his words.
"If they find out you're a Xeno," he continued, his voice calm but cutting, "you'll end up dead in a back alley before the day's over."
Fear flickered in her eyes, but she refused to back down.
She jabbed a finger at him, leaning forward defensively. "Y-you're bluffing! The Xenos are protected by the same laws as humans! There's no way they'd—"
Lloyd cut her off with a quiet sigh, stepping closer until his shadow loomed over her.
"Do you really believe that?" he said softly, his tone flat and empty. "You're just a Metamorph. To the Astorias, you're less than dirt. What do you think they'll do when they find out one of your kind dared to steal from their family?"
By the time he finished, Cath's back was pressed against the wall. Her breath trembled.
"If this gets out," Lloyd whispered coldly, staring straight into her eyes, "you're finished. And you know it."
Cath's legs wobbled. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, curling up slightly.
She hated how right he was. Even after the so-called "revolution," the Xenos were still treated like garbage—unless they had money or power.
The fact that she had to use a disguise artifact just to move around without stares said enough.
"I shouldn't have gotten greedy," she thought bitterly.
"Of course," Lloyd said cheerfully, breaking the heavy silence, "I don't actually want that to happen." He smiled brightly, his tone suddenly light again. "I'll just tell Anastasia I found her badge, and I won't mention where or from whom. Your identity stays secret, and you get to keep on living."
"First rule of business: make the client realize they need you—even if you have to create that need yourself."
Lloyd had first broken her spirit, then offered her a way out—a way that only he could provide.
"R-really?" Cath asked, her voice trembling with a glimmer of hope. She knew there'd be a price. "So what do you want in return?"
Her violet eyes searched his face, trying to read his intentions.
Lloyd smiled faintly.
"Well, you see, I'm pretty good at recognizing value in people. And I'm sure your stealth skills could be very useful to me," he said smoothly. "So, in exchange… I want your true name. Seems like a fair price to avoid a horrible death, don't you think?"
Cath's breath hitched.
Metamorphs were born with a "name" etched into their soul—a word only they knew. To speak it aloud was to form a lifelong bond that connected two beings at their very core.
And if a Metamorph gave their true name to a non-Metamorph, they became bound to that person's will. Forever.
In the novel, Reinhart had forced her to reveal it. Lloyd preferred a cleaner deal.
"Y-you're serious? You know what that means, right? There's no way I—"
"That's fine," Lloyd interrupted lightly, turning toward the door. "I won't force you into something you don't want. Take care of yourself."
He reached for the handle.
"Second rule: when the client hesitates, make them think they're losing something exclusive."
Lloyd had no intention of giving her time to think. She had to believe this was her only chance.
"W-wait!" she cried, grabbing his sleeve. "Alright. I'll tell you my name."
A sinister grin crept onto Lloyd's face, though he quickly replaced it with his usual composed smile as he turned back.
"Good choice," he said pleasantly. "I knew you'd see reason."
Cath clenched her jaw. She hated this—hated him. But she hated the thought of dying even more.
Slowly, she stepped closer, standing on her toes until her lips brushed against his ear.
Lloyd froze as her soft chest pressed against his arm through her uniform.
"Stay calm, Lloyd. Think about the Bible. The Bible, damn it."
Still, his "little friend" was already starting to wake up.
"Gamchicoth Ga'ashekelah," she whispered.
The moment the word left her lips, Lloyd's breath caught. A shiver ran down his spine.
That wasn't a normal word—it was part of an ancient, magical dialect. In this world, words had power, though most people had long forgotten how to use them. Only scholars and eccentrics still bothered with such things, since grimoires had replaced that form of magic ages ago.
"Well… that's a pretty name," Lloyd said, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
"Hmph. Here," she muttered irritably, shoving the badge into his hands. "You'd better keep your end of the deal."
Her pout was kind of cute, so he reached out and patted her head affectionately.
"Of course," he said, relaxed now.
He'd just gained himself a very useful ally.
"But before you go," she said, folding her arms, "you haven't even told me your name. Mind introducing yourself, at least?"
"Of course. My name's Lloyd Noir. Nice to meet you, Catherine." He bowed slightly.
"Spare me the formalities, nya. That's aristocrat nonsense, nya," she replied, giving him a feline glare.
"Nya?" Lloyd tilted his head.
"What? You already know I'm a Metamorph, nya. No need to hold back how I talk, nya."
Lloyd couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable habit.
"Why are you still here, nya? Go give that badge back to Anastasia, nya. I want to forget this whole mess, nya."
Lloyd smiled. Every time she said nya, it sent a small, pleasant shiver through him.
"Alright then. See you around," he said cheerfully, stepping out of the compartment and whistling as he walked down the corridor. "Today's turning out to be a pretty good day. I was worried after that idiot Gaston, but maybe this trip won't be so—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
A hand shot out of nowhere, grabbing his arm.
"What the hell—?"
Before he could react, Lloyd was yanked to the floor.
Apparently, relaxing was a luxury he still couldn't afford in this world.