Chapter 245: One Hour in the Mysterious World

The battle in Sonia had settled; the dust had fallen. Yet, amidst the ruins of the barren plains, a deathly silence blanketed the battlefield. The fate of Hayato and Usagi remained unknown. Only the shattered earth and the ash-filled sky whispered of the recent devastation and the desperate struggle. In the distance, the wanderer's figure had long disappeared, leaving only the echo of silent resonance.

At the peak of Sonia, a figure stood quietly. It was a boy, his face adorned with an innocent smile, yet his eyes carried a profound wisdom and an icy cruelty. He whispered softly, "Ah, well, well... looks like the battle's wrapped up nicely. As long as no one discovers Usagi's true identity, everything's fine."

His tone was light and casual, but the surrounding air turned bone-chillingly cold, as though time itself had frozen. Even the wind faltered, seemingly wary of the boy's presence. He cast a sidelong glance in the direction the wanderer had vanished.

"Just a little longer... just a little bit more..."

Before the final word dissipated, his figure vanished into thin air, leaving no trace of his existence. The icy oppression lingered, instilling an instinctive dread in all who might have felt it.

Meanwhile, in a hidden control room, two watchers sat pale-faced, their eyes glued to the monitors, hands gripping the chair arms as cold sweat trickled down their temples.

Watcher 14 curled into his seat, his clothes soaked with sweat. His lips trembled as if trying to form words, but his throat was parched and constricted. At last, he managed to speak, his voice shaking: "The world's... all the world's surveillance... vanished in an instant..."

He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, eyes hollow with disbelief. "Who... who did this? And why? Whose identity needed such protection... that they could wipe out everything? This is terrifying..."

The monitors before them showed only static. All footage, all data—gone. Erased from existence.

Watcher 15, his voice hoarse and trembling, asked, "14... should we... should we report this to Lord 02?"

Watcher 14 drew a deep breath, trying to steady his frantic heartbeat. After a long pause, he leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. "No... let's leave it."

His voice was laced with helplessness and resignation. He understood this was beyond their reach. A force like this... transcended their comprehension. Against such power, the watchers were nothing but fragile, meaningless observers.

The air in the dimly lit room grew suffocatingly heavy. The monitors remained black, their faint glow casting pale shadows on the watchers' stricken faces.

The oppressive silence shattered when an unexpected voice spoke from behind them: "Did something happen?"

The two watchers jolted as if electrocuted, nearly leaping from their seats. Cold sweat poured down their backs. They had just decided to conceal the incident from Watcher 02—only to be caught red-handed. Their breathing turned rigid. Turning their heads slowly, they saw a boy cloaked entirely in black standing behind them.

"L-Lord 11?" Watcher 14 stammered, his throat dry.

It was indeed Watcher 11. He wore dark sunglasses, the lenses reflecting the weak glow from the monitors. His black cowboy hat tilted slightly over his forehead, and a long black coat draped over his slender figure. Every inch of him exuded the aura of encroaching nightfall.

Watcher 11 tilted his chin slightly, his voice calm and detached: "Did something happen?"

Watcher 15 swallowed hard, words stumbling from his mouth: "T-the monitors... the world's monitors... all malfunctioned."

His hands trembled against the console, the cold sweat soaking into the leather armrest.

"So..." Watcher 15 added, voice cracking, "for this past hour... the world has become... a mystery."

Watcher 11 gave a slow nod, his movements unsettlingly deliberate. He raised a hand and adjusted his sunglasses with lazy indifference before shaking his head slightly. The action seemed harmless, yet the watchers tensed even further. They exchanged uneasy glances, recalling the rumors that Watcher 11's behavior was notoriously erratic.

"Just install new monitors," he said, his tone as light as a breeze slipping through a crack in a coffin. "Resume surveillance."

Watcher 14 and Watcher 15 nodded frantically, anxious to obey without further inquiry.

Suddenly, Watcher 11's voice took on a disturbingly cheerful note: "I'll handle this matter... personally. Hehehe."

The eerie chuckle slithered through the air like a blade on glass.

Before the watchers could respond, Watcher 11 turned on his heel with an exaggerated flourish. His footsteps were peculiar—a jerking, hopping gait more akin to a chicken than a person. Each step landed with a faint "plap," each sound a needle to their strained nerves.

As the figure disappeared down the corridor, silence reclaimed the control room. Only after the door clicked shut did Watcher 14 exhale heavily, releasing his grip on the chair.

"Well... at least we sort of reported it," he muttered, his voice weary.

"Yeah... Lord 11 knows now. And he said he'd handle it," Watcher 15 added, nodding, though his face remained pale.

Both slumped back into their chairs, struggling to steady their frantic heartbeats. But Watcher 11's chilling laughter and that unsettling gait lingered in their minds like a shadow with claws, refusing to let go.