"Ghk…—"
With his throat cinched tight, Zoldeo could only force out a strained wheeze.
After struggling for breath, he finally lifted his bloodshot eyes and glared at Shane with venomous hatred.
"Y-you… who the hell are you?!
What I do… has nothing to do with you!"
Even with forbidden magic muddling his mind, the repeated way this brat had ruined him had left Zoldeo burning with real, personal hatred.
To his surprise, Shane nodded as if he agreed. "You're right. Strictly speaking, it really has nothing to do with me."
Then—his wrist snapped with force, and the noose tightened instantly.
"But it has everything to do with whether you live." Shane's voice turned cold. "Release the control. Don't make me say it a third time."
"Mmgh—!" Zoldeo's eyes bulged as suffocation crushed his breath.
His gaze slid over Shane's calm, unreadable face—and finally fixed on the unmistakable Fairy Tail emblem on the back of Shane's hand.
He burned that symbol into his memory.
A moment later, his eyelids trembled violently.
The guards on the grass—who had been struggling to sit up—froze mid-motion. Then their eyes cleared.
They blinked in confusion, looking around at the shattered carriage and the soreness in their bodies, with no idea what had just happened.
"You were being controlled by Zoldeo," Shane said tersely.
The guards finally understood. Fear and relief flooded their faces, and they hurried to thank him.
Shane waved them off and refocused on Zoldeo.
He still didn't close the distance—whatever Zoldeo's magic actually did, Shane wasn't taking chances.
With a small flick of his wrist, he guided the black staff in his other hand, deftly probing Zoldeo's clothing and gear from a safe angle.
If Zoldeo was trying to run, then Capricorn's golden key couldn't be left with him. The guards needed to bring it back to Layla—no matter what.
But after a careful search, Shane's brow furrowed.
Inside and out, every likely hiding place—nothing. Empty.
"Where'd you stash it?" Shane's expression darkened as a few unpleasant possibilities crossed his mind.
At that moment, one of the younger guards stepped forward, eager to help. "Shane-sama, I'll look too!"
He moved like a rookie who didn't yet understand what "almost getting puppeted" really meant. Without waiting for Shane's answer, he hopped onto the wrecked carriage and started patting Zoldeo down thoroughly.
Shane could only tighten the noose a little more, keeping pressure on Zoldeo to prevent any sudden move.
After a brief search, the young guard looked up, puzzled. "Nothing, Shane-sama. He really doesn't have Layla-sama's key on him."
"It's not on him?" Shane was genuinely surprised. Zoldeo's obsession didn't seem fake—yet he'd chosen not to keep it on his person?
He stared at Zoldeo and barked, "Where did you hide the key?!"
This time, Zoldeo just lowered his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and played dead. No matter how Shane yanked the rope, he refused to give up a single word.
Shane had no choice. He couldn't exactly strangle him to death here.
Not with the Council already contacted—and not with Layla to answer to.
So he maintained the standoff and, staying on guard the whole way, escorted Zoldeo to the nearest town's Magic Council branch office.
The Council's knight order had already been waiting out front.
Shane handed over one end of the rope and still warned them, "Be careful. His magic can control people."
The hard-faced knight just smiled, motioning for Shane to relax. He pointed at a pair of dark shackles one of the knights was holding.
"Don't worry. These are custom magic-sealing stone cuffs. Once they're on, he won't be able to use any magic at all."
Seeing how professional they were, Shane finally let out the breath he'd been holding. So the Council really is reliable… no wonder Brain keeps hiding from them.
Now a little lighter in the chest, Shane reminded them to interrogate him about Capricorn's key, then watched as the knights hauled Zoldeo away—completely helpless now.
After that, he turned to the two shaken Heartfilia guards and instructed them, "When you get back, report everything that happened on the road to Layla-sama—exactly as it happened."
"And make sure you explain the Capricorn situation too."
"Yes, Shane-sama!"
With that done, Shane breathed out long and slow. This single morning felt more exhausting than meditating all day.
He rubbed his brow and muttered, "I'm starting to feel like a nosy old mom…"
Once he finished dealing with Zoldeo and the Council, Shane didn't dare waste another minute. He bought the fastest train ticket available and rushed back.
First stop: Shirotsume.
Standing in front of Duke Everlue's obnoxiously lavish mansion again, Shane couldn't be bothered to knock on the front door—there was a good chance he'd just be ignored anyway.
He slipped around the side, touched down with a few light steps, and vaulted up to that familiar second-floor balcony without a sound—then walked straight into the hall.
And the scene he walked into made his eye twitch.
The short, fat Duke Everlue was blindfolded, playing some greasy "catch the butterfly" game while surrounded by a swarm of giggling, cooing maids. It was so oily Shane almost wanted to avert his eyes on principle.
Given that the duke had technically helped him this time, Shane forced himself not to fling the key into the man's face.
He just said, "Key's on the table," and left immediately.
If he stayed any longer, he was worried he'd suffer psychological damage.
But the moment Shane vanished, the duke—still basking in his little paradise—suddenly shivered hard.
That voice…
He ripped off the blindfold and spun around in terror. "D-did I just hallucinate?! I swear I heard that damned brat's—"
One of the maids timidly pointed at the coffee table.
There, glittering in gold, was the key.
The duke's first reaction was delight—then a surge of dread swallowed it whole.
Clutching the key, he wondered: How did he get in again?
Last time, too—he'd slipped in like a ghost.
If that boy ever wanted to do something to him… or to the maids he adored…
Everlue's imagination spiraled. Panic took over, and he screeched, "Seal it up! All the windows! The balconies! Seal them all shut—NOW! Immediately!"
A guard nearby looked like he wanted to say, Even if we seal everything, if he really wants in, he'll still get in. And if he knocks next time, are you going to open?
But seeing the duke on the verge of a breakdown, the guard swallowed those thoughts.
A little psychological comfort was still comfort—at least it might help His Grace sleep tonight.
Shane, meanwhile, was already long gone from that cesspit. He sprinted, transferred, and hustled until he finally got off at Magnolia station before night fully fell.
He didn't go home right away. He headed straight for the guild, thinking that if Erza really was furious, he could at least ask Makarov to put in a good word.
Sure, it'd hurt his pride—but it beat being locked out of his own house with nowhere to go.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the familiar guild doors.
He didn't even get the chance to say "I'm back"—
A gust of murderous wind hit him head-on.
"Whoosh—!"
A heavy wooden table screamed past his scalp and smashed into the floor behind him, exploding into splinters.
Strangely enough, the sheer familiarity of the scene calmed Shane's nerves a little.
Yeah. This felt like home.
He followed the commotion into the hall—and in the middle of the wreckage, Gray, shirtless as usual, was locked in a brawl with an unfamiliar pink-haired boy.