"Brother John! Run fast! It's raining!"
A soft yet urgent feminine voice echoed along the rocky path as she sprinted, gripping the handles of a large wooden handcart strapped to her back. Beside her ran a handsome, blonde-haired youth whose delicate features blurred the line between masculine and feminine—if not for his clothes, one could easily mistake him for a girl.
"For heaven's sake! Did it have to start raining now?!"
The girl shouted, frustration lacing her voice as she pressed forward. Rain pelted down harder, soaking the worn fabric of her robe and darkening the wood of the cart. The man beside her only grinned, calm amidst the sudden downpour.
"Be careful, Lily. It's just a bit of rain."
"Just some rain? You idiot! Our goods will be ruined if we don't hurry! Look—there's a cave up ahead!"
John said nothing more, simply shook his head and followed her lead, both heading toward the looming cavern carved into the mountainside.
'Silly girl… even if it all spoils, I can just bring out another batch,' John thought, lips curling into a knowing grin. His hand briefly touched the old pouch at his waist—an ordinary-looking thing, yet unseen by any other eyes but his.
Panting heavily, the two finally reached the cavern, joining the handful of merchants and travelers who had also taken shelter from the storm.
"Khukk!"
Lily gasped sharply as the handcart came to a sudden halt, the handles yanking her body back with jarring force. No matter how much she strained, the cart wouldn't budge.
"No, no, no! John, check it! Something's wrong!"
John immediately abandoned his spot and circled around to the back of the cart. His brows furrowed as he saw one of the large wooden wheels sunken deep into a crack in the muddy, uneven ground.
Crouching beside it, he tried to lift the wheel with his slender arms, but the soaked wood and sheer weight defied his efforts. Gritting his teeth, he threw his shoulder against the cart in an attempt to push it free.
"Yugh…"
Despite mustering every ounce of his strength, the cart didn't move an inch.
"Ugh—it's no use! Lily, call for help!"
The siblings shouted toward the people gathered inside the cavern, voices echoing through the rain and stone. Yet no one stirred. Each person remained focused on their own goods, their own safety. No one spared them a glance.
"Fucking pieces of shit!"
Lily growled, lips trembling with fury as she rushed to John's side. Together, they pushed—bare hands slipping on the slick wood, boots sliding in the mud.
"Damn it! It's not even budging!"
The wheel, half-buried in a mixture of mud and jagged rocks, refused to move. Lily's strength waned, but her desperation only grew.
"Mother…"
She whispered, voice cracking. Her arms trembled as she pressed her body against the cart once more. Memories rushed in—her mother's frail form lying sick in their modest cottage, her labored breathing a constant reminder of time slipping away. Since their father's death, there'd been no one else to care for them.
John, though dear to her, had always been useless—until just days ago, when something changed.
Yesterday, he came home with an astonishing amount of trade goods, claiming he'd found a way to earn enough to heal their mother. The plan was simple: climb the mountain, sell the goods to the nearby cultivation sect, and return home with enough coin to buy medicine.
Despite her suspicions about where the goods came from, Lily agreed. And now it was all slipping away.
Rain drenched her as she wept silently.
'Please… someone… help—'
"Let me help you."
A deep, magnetic voice broke through the sound of the rain. Lily's head snapped up. Standing beside the cart was a young man in tattered robes, one hand already gripping the embedded wheel.
Before she could react, he lifted.
The entire cart rose as if it weighed nothing.
With a low grunt, the stranger rolled the wheel free from the rock and mud, then effortlessly pulled the cart toward the cavern.
***
[Ding! Heir Detected!!]
[Ding! Heir Detected!!]
[Ding! Heir Detected!!]
The notifications exploded across Damon's system screen like thunderclaps in his mind. His gaze locked on the blonde-haired boy, now leaning against the cave wall and panting, his thin chest rising and falling beneath soaked robes.
Beyond the translucent system screen, Damon stared—expression unreadable.
"Huff… Thank you. Thank you, really."
The girl was the first to recover. She bowed deeply, her tear-streaked face lifted with genuine gratitude.
Damon didn't respond. He didn't even glance at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the boy—on John.
A single thought surged through his mind like a primal roar.
Kill him… kill him.
The voice echoed inside him, cold and intoxicating, as if whispered by a devil hiding just behind his ear. It grew louder with every second he looked at the boy.
"Thank you so much. If you hadn't helped us, our entire trip would've gone to waste! We're so grateful!"
The girl's voice pulled him back.
Damon blinked, then slowly turned to look at her. As he did, the devil's whisper quieted. The mental fog lifted.
What… was that?
"My name is Sarah, and he's John—my brother. Thank you again for helping us. Can I know your name?"
"Da—Daniel. Daniel Collins," Damon replied smoothly, his voice neutral as he gave a false name without missing a beat.
"Thank you, Daniel, for helping me and my sister."
John, having caught his breath, offered Damon a warm, genuine smile.
Damon nodded slightly.
But inside, his heart pounded.
He knew now—he had just met his first real prey.