CHAPTER 4 A Powerful Benefactor

With every step, the night air grew thick. Ren trailed after the man down dark side streets, his bare feet barely brushing against cracked pavement. His legs still ached from his escape earlier; his breath wasn't even yet, but he could show none of this other than in small, measured steps. The hum of the city seemed to fall miles away behind him.

Ren kept his head low, messy black hair falling over his forehead, but golden eyes flicked up every few moments to survey the man before him. The man in the coat was swaying with his walk-long and black-its fabric thick enough to obscure any weapon he might be concealing. Smooth, liquid movements of a person who did not expect to be challenged.

Ren swallowed the tension welling in his throat. This stoat isn't just dangerous; he's that kind of dangerous you see only at the end.

He led them down an alleyway, the buildings closing over them down to some back entrance of an abandoned building. Ren faltered when the man opened the door-it let out a rusty groan out into the silent night. The dim light from the street showed little of the inside, but Ren followed, his posture slouched like that of a tired, scared kid.

The instant the door closed behind them, Ren's eyes adjusted to the faint light of one flickering bulb. The air was thick with mildew and cold metal. The walls were cracked, and a faint hum of machinery vibrated through the floor.

The man turned, cocking his head slightly as he regarded Ren. The pale contours of the man's face seemed skeletal in the dancing shadows thrown by the flickering bulb. His lips curled in a faint smile, but it carried no warmth.

Ren shifted his weight, allowing his shoulders to slump as if he was tired. He rubbed his arms as if cold, his body screaming vulnerability. "Why did you bring me here?" he asked softly, his voice high and hesitant. He could feel the way his small frame seemed even smaller under the man's gaze.

The man chuckled low-a soothing sound had Ren not known any better. "Because I see potential in you," he said. "You don't have anyone else, do you?"

Ren's lips quivered, and he allowed himself to blink a few times, like he was fighting tears. "No," he whispered. Let him think he's winning.

The man took a step closer, his boots clicking softly against the floor. "Then you're safe with me," he said, placing a hand lightly on Ren's shoulder. The pressure wasn't threatening, but it wasn't comforting either—it was testing him, seeing how Ren would react.

Ren's golden eyes darted toward the floor, his long lashes casting shadows across his cheeks. His lean, lithe build lent him a fragile air in the poor light, but behind his lowered gaze, his mind was whirring. He's testing my trust. If I pull away, he'll push harder. If I lean into it too easily, he'll know I'm faking it.

So he did what came natural-he flinched slightly under the man's touch but didn't move away entirely. Just enough to make it believable.

The man seemed satisfied and let go, walking further into the room. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"Ren," he answered softly, brushing his black hair out of his face.

"A fitting name," the man replied, his tone too casual. "Tell me, Ren, how old are you?

"I I don't know," he lied. It was close enough to the truth, and the mixed consciousness inside him made it hard to determine his real age, his consciousness was getting muddy.

The man nodded, folding his hands behind his back as he turned toward the table in the center of the room. He rested his fingertips on its surface, tapping lightly as if lost in thought. "Seven years old and already capable of what you did tonight. That's rare. What exactly happened back there?"

Ren's fingers flexed at his sides, but his face stayed soft, confused. "I didn't mean to hurt him," he said, his voice shaking just enough to sell the lie. "He came after me, and I was scared. Then. the blood just moved." He glanced at his hands, feigning guilt. "I didn't know it would kill him like that.

His eyes narrowed somewhat, but the smile stayed on. "Fear is a great trigger; it brings out strengths we never knew we had." He leaned his head. "Tell me, Ren'-have you ever had anyone help you control that power?

Ren shook his head quickly. "No. My. my guardian didn't know much about quirks." The lump in his throat wasn't entirely fake—part of him still felt the lingering sadness from the boy's memories. "I'm sorry for what happened," he added, lowering his gaze again.

The man circled him slowly, as if inspecting a rare piece of art. Ren kept his breathing steady, forcing himself to stay relaxed. Let him believe I'm a scared kid. It's better if he underestimates me.

"I'm not angry, Ren," the man said softly, stopping before him. "I'm impressed." His gloved hand brushed against Ren's chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. "You have something special. If you stay with me, I can teach you how to control it. How to become stronger. Would you like that?"

Ren hesitated just long enough to make it seem like he was unsure, then nodded slowly, eyes wide and vulnerable. "Yes, please."

The man's smile broadened, and he stepped back, satisfied. "Good. You made the right choice." He gestured to a side room. "Rest for now. Tomorrow, we will start your training.

Ren nodded once more and faced the room; his bare feet patted lightly against the chilled floor. A click later, the door was shut behind him, and he collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard.

His body shook, but not because of fear-merely in relief. He had pulled it off.

But his mind didn't slow down. He thinks he's holding the strings. Let him believe it, for the time being. Ren fisted his hands, weighing his circumstance. He knew precisely with whom he was dealing now—and if he were going to survive, he'd have to be smart.