Mi-Yung was absolutely livid about this meeting. Kaufman was one thing, but Richards? That man? With his position?! Those fools in the Academy better think thrice before they steal anything from her.

  The incoming headache led to anxiety when she linked all current possibilities. Then, she was sober like a rock. It was a bad habit, as pulling herself away from William's shoulder was dizzy and quick, and what came next was even quicker.

  Massaging her temples didn't help shit, and cursing these people with her words couldn't do much better than slapping herself clean. She had to act like a fighter, and she needed to be fast. Not be bigger, smaller, or something entirely different. Oblivion be damned. If she could, she yearned to give Kaufman a better lesson than shattering his hope and a time he thought he had.

  If he was so interested, he should have started out much earlier or straight from the beginning, or gone right up to her face. That was his problem; not hers, as she, quite frankly, didn’t give a fuck either way.

  Kaufman had obvious ulterior motives with William, and his actions justified them, evident in these couple of talks. Then, Richards ravaged her equations, so perhaps it was bigger. Much bigger.

  It wasn't a conspiracy. Some self-entitled people were making moves out of boredom, interest, grudge, or various levels of interest all the freaking time, and this one was quite special and she shouldn't ignore it.

  Mi-Yung didn't like either of them. She wanted William for herself, even if it wouldn’t mean a lot very soon, or if she would lose herself.

  Flicking her head aside, she tossed her disheveled hair to one side, cracked her fingers, and a bunch of buttons on her shirt shot away, rolling on the pavement.

  “Very well. Fine. Fine!”

  “Is this an agreement?” Richards asked, unwilling to approach Wiliam too much as his teleport hastened his beats.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” she demanded in a hardened voice, and her eyes turned to shining, correct full moons. In the middle of the night, they were azure rather than bloody, looking pretty and alluring.

  Celeste definitely loved their glint in different ways as she stood aside, curiously wondering why these things came again. At least Hound guarded her like a good boy, although still with that package in his mouth.

  Mi-Yung tried to fight against the migraine, which was the reason for her current face. She kind of expected Kaufman to arrive at some point, so she didn't take him for something shocking. She screwed herself over by memory and forgot her manners. Typical.

  Kaufman had already shown his face to her today, and there was no point in doing so back then. Was this supposed to be different since the last time? If so, they were fucked in the head if they though anythign changed. Perhaps he just wanted to recognize her personally and deal with it as he should, rather than later.

  “What do you think?” Richards asked.

  “It isn't because of my job, I presume. Or my vacation. Meat? Drinks? Oh, sorry. I am already taken.”

  “Hah. Nice one. I am here with Kaufman because he is working with me. We share personal interests, and moving along has merits.”

  “A Butler of the Academy makes bold moves with an old man? You surely must have better things to do than settle with that senile old artifact.”

  “That kind of hurt...” Kaufman said, sighing in fake distress.

  “I see you are the same as usual. Idiotic, yet doing whatever the higher-ups want. Who is it? Come on. Chirp or make a song for me.” Mi-Yung finished getting rid of her migraine and gave Richards a cruel truth that crushed his heart.

  He didn't take it that badly.

  Calming down, he planned another shot to get closer, yet another leg came for his head next. This time, it went around his head, flying like a Spectre's flashing limbs. He had no time to blink or speak, for this kick was even stronger than the previous one.

  Without shine or a luster of any Arcana or Vectors, this was the sole physical capability Mi-Yung carried in her body and flesh. It was her specialized art and form, and it was part of the sequences she was proud of.

  Rank 6 Walkers were powerful, even though Rank 7s were recognized as true killing machines. They were often comparable, while Rank 8s were beyond that simply because there weren't many of them, and each was a massive, encompassing entity. Every one of them had depth, history, and their moves were sensitive. How or why wasn't that what the public needed to know.

  Let's just say that the balance of the current world was threading a line between many hunters, and there was always someone beyond the top, or aiming to be the strongest, or stronger than the others, or those next in line.

  Mi-Yung had the potential to reach that level and join their craze and fray. In a way, she was already doing that at this rank, which spoke of her personality and sheer dedication to not bowing down against the norm or storms ravaging this world. Even if prudence should be clever, that is. It was an assumption and reason most Assembly members thought she would die early or lack the ability and personality to move beyond her limits.

  Richards wasn't caring about it; he glanced at her kick, dodged it in a back-step, and failed like a pathetic fish in unknown waters. A reverberating force and one groaning sound washed over him, contorting his face. It was a poor oversight to expect something else, and he couldn't blame anyone.

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  He kind of hoped that Kaufman saved his face, but a Butler was a Butler. Fighting it out with her was a dream and nothing else. Still, he smirked at the outburst of this wind that punished his face without a choice, thanks to a swift arc in the air, before another attack came next. It was a fist full of anger that aimed at his face, showing him nothing good. It went according to his expectations, and no Kaufman came.

  Mi-Yung smacked him straight on, punching his shitty cheek until Richards rolled in the air before doing the same on the ground. His journey ended up in a tree, way too close to a residual building. He didn't even try to dodge that one, since the third attack would endanger this place for sure.

  Neither of them should go all out, so Mi-Yung used just a fraction of her strength. It was enough to appeal her reclusive migraine, mind, and heat her flesh and Emblem. To her disappointment, she swore Richards took pleasure in those kicks and fists. He nearly kissed them both.

  “Want another one, hm? I will give you a proper reason to feel them this time!”

  Richards coughed, half smiling and poking his cheek. “Now, this is awkward as hell.” He was fairly close to Kaufman, who chuckled as if prepared for this showdown.

  “What is this about? I am in no mood for anything other than some rest in the warm bed with Luke.” Mi-Yung said, anger and frustration seeped out of her stance, voice, and eyes. Air started to distort around her skin, showing the quality of her Arcana. It was starting to act up like an engine, with air and space rumbling as if she were a huge machine.

  Ellie had to drag Celeste away just in case she had a worse idea. She stood beside William, where they had previously held onto Mi-Yung. She stared at the people and the incoming drama. William stepped back on his own, even if he was part of this problem.

  “Oh,” Richards sighed. “I said she would go insane. Ah, that hurt... Ok. Alright. I get it. I get it. We went just a little over the line, but nothing that we can’t mend and work with.”

  Kaufman laughed and felt his choices rising.

  Mi-Yung didn't, and did one thing she might regret. Her whole blouse disintegrated when she pointed at him and put her thumb down. Then she was half-naked for a split second. Her whole Emblem sparkled in explosive azure and white light and revolved into light and waves that came out of her crevice-like Emblem. It wasn't showing much depth like this, or skin, but one could swear it was extremely deep, like the Abyss itself.

  Mi-Yung grunted and spoke to those behind her. “Watch out, kids. This is how I fight and how many of us do due diligence.”

  It was her Arcalyst. Waves like silk and flowing waves like armor overflowed all over her upper body, glinting and twisting and clutching and latching onto her skin. Most of her skin wasn't even visible, but the Emblem was, while most patterns fell down, creating a weird dress.

  Her hair remained, though it changed into a silvery color, and her eyes were menacingly enchanting.

  Richards coughed. “I think it is time for you to talk, Kaufman. You wanted this to happen, didn't you?”

  “Oh, I don't know about that. I think you want to taste her much more now, before you won’t ever taste it again,” Kaufman stopped laughing and turned a tad bit more serious.

  “Why should I listen to you, old man?”

  “Why not, little Song? Haven't you got some work to do and think about? I thought Richards would be enough, or should I grab Fain? He would listen to me once. I think.”

  “Doubtful.” Richards scoffed, almost whispering as he looked at the ground.

  “You peeping tom!?” Mi-Yung shouted, stomping the ground and leaving small cracks around her. Her pride returned in more ways than usual after she tempered her flow and body.

  When triggering her already elevated Arcalyst, her body and feelings, as well as Cycles, shook every time. It was a step closer to reverberating shifts and rhythm, going one step further until she was going all out. Which she shouldn't do, as far as Kaufman knew, so he sighed and made his move. Something pulled his hat from his head when air contorted outside and inside his eyes.

  It was a shame. He no longer had his luscious hair beneath. It would go better with his trials to appear younger.

  Not like Mi-Yung would consider it because, in her eyes, he was an old man and nothing else. Many shared the same sentiments, even though the reality was often disappointing and hiding much worse secrets.

  Richards breathed in and out and got to his feet. “Don't put it too far, Kaufman.”

  “I will try, peeping tom.”

  “Shut up...”

  Taking much-needed words out, Kaufman walked towards Mi-Yung and stood before her, close, yet still far. Mi-Yung frowned, tensing her arms that had layers, waves, and strings of her Arcalyst. It was hard to tell if it was Arcana or Vectors, but in her case, neither style mattered, even if one of them was more intimate.

  So far, William had read fewer bits about the actual differences between pure Arana and Vectors, or complex pictures and examples, like her lessons and choices. When he thought about Walkers fighting Outside, he figured she must have Vectors. This sight pointed to something else, or it was different and not fit to be called Arcana. Was that making any sense?

  As she explained today, Arcana was the major form of Emblem's energy, either pouring and looking like water, mist, or wind. In short, it was a much harder to wield and mold form of energy with purity or elements.

  Vectors were easier to touch and influence, but they were substantially wilder in appearances, forms, patterns, or differences. This made Arcana universally teachable, whereas Vectors were individual and often difficult to cultivate.

  Standing, William, who would love to run away rather than watch, could no longer do what he wanted. He was transfixed on that boastful back. It was a far cry from the Walkers he had seen Outside. Mi-Yung was graceful yet savage, while her exposed Emblem and back weren’t open in the slightest. What wasn’t armored to the bone? Where were her weapons molded by this mysterious energy that didn't seem to have any element?

  Maybe she was a weapon herself because her Arcana was overwhelming just on her, and she wasn't Molding anything specific. Her muscles were heavier than her bones and etched in mass within this Arcalyst form, and William barely saw a single layer of it.

  “Watch,” Mi-Yung said to the quartet behind her.

  “Do you have time to care for a bunch of children?” Kaufman asked.

  “Who says I don’t? If I recall, your words don't mean anything, old man,” she argued without a speck of respect. Arcana shone and pushed the space and wind, leaving little swaying patterns between her and Kaufman, who was also using something, but it was impossible to notice it outright.

  For her, it was completely different. It was like she was pushing and going against the Colossal Titan, whom she met only twice.

  Kaufman was simply way too freaky, tough, and far too maximized and unorthodox. His little white gem on his palm was nowhere to be seen, as he hid his arms behind his back.

  Mi-Yung's chest shimmered in dissecting light that ceased the night, and her force met an unmovable force of Rank 8. It was no wonder.

  “You... are getting out of hand, missy,”

  “I am calm. You aren't.”

  “Should we go somewhere else? I can pull you out of here... or...”

  At that moment, she had no doubts about this. If she were already troubled, then pushing at Kaufman would not be her responsibility. He caused it himself, and she no longer cared about his face.

  Kaufman cursed and watched how her light changed once more, and how this situation was getting out of his hands.