Chapter 5: The Ghost in the Shadows

Julian's blood ran cold.

That was impossible.

The figure in the shadows—he had the same hair as Julian. The same unnatural white strands with green tips.

Who the hell was that?

Julian's grip on the dealer tightened. "Who is he?"

The dealer's breathing was shaky. "I told you. You don't mess with him."

"His name." Julian's voice was sharp. "Say it."

The dealer hesitated. Then, in a whisper—

"Julial."

The world felt like it tilted.

Julian let go, stepping back, his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

The dealer took the chance to run, disappearing into the crowd. But Julian barely noticed. His eyes were locked on the empty space where that figure had been standing.

Julial.

That wasn't possible.

Because if that was true, then—

Who the hell was Julian?

A Violent Interruption

Before he could process anything, a fist flew at his face.

Julian's instincts kicked in. He sidestepped, catching the attacker's wrist mid-air.

A loud crack echoed as Julian twisted—sending the attacker crashing into the floor.

The underground arena fell silent.

Julian looked down. It was one of the ranked seniors, a muscular guy named Mason—Top 7 in the senior rankings.

Mason groaned, rolling onto his hands and knees. "Damn… so the rumors about you weren't bullshit."

Julian let go of his arm. "You really thought that was gonna work?"

Mason spat blood onto the floor and grinned. "Nah. I just wanted to see if you were the real deal."

The tension in the air shifted. Around them, fighters and gangsters started whispering.

"This junior took down Mason?"

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"Is he actually ranked?"

Julian could feel the attention on him now. And he hated it.

I can't afford to stand out. Not yet.

But before he could leave—

A slow clap echoed through the arena.

Julian turned.

A tall figure stepped forward. Black leather jacket. Silver chain around his neck. Dark red eyes that glowed slightly under the dim lights.

Noah Cross.

Rank #4 in the Masterclass.

The entire arena tensed.

Noah smirked. "Interesting. A junior taking down a ranked senior. That's rare."

Julian met his gaze, keeping his expression unreadable.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Noah tilted his head. "You're asking questions about things you shouldn't. Julial. The drug trade. Missing students." He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "If you keep digging, you're going to get yourself killed."

Julian didn't flinch. "You're saying that like you care."

Noah chuckled. "I don't. But my boss does."

Julian's fingers twitched. "Your boss?"

Noah grinned. "Oh, I think you already know who he is."

And then, before Julian could react—

Noah vanished.

Not like someone running.

Not like someone disappearing into the shadows.

Just—gone.

A Message in Blood

The underground arena erupted into chaos.

Julian stood frozen, Noah's words replaying in his head.

"My boss does."

The pieces were coming together.

Someone was running the drug trade from inside the school. Someone with connections to the outside Superhuman Mafia. Someone with enough power to make even ranked fighters afraid.

And that someone had the same face as Julian.

A sudden smell of iron filled the air.

Julian's eyes snapped to the arena wall.

There, scrawled in fresh blood, were words that hadn't been there before:

"STOP DIGGING, BROTHER."

The room spun.

Brother?

Julian staggered back, his breath shallow. Julial was real. And he knew everything.

But the biggest question remained—

Why did Julian have no memories of him?