Lone Wolf quietly stared into the distance, his expression blank as his eyes narrowed on the glowing silhouettes approaching from afar.
They were coming fast—too fast to be mere wanderers.
Meanwhile, Scarlett Fox, seeing that he had nothing more to say, rolled her eyes with a well-hidden sneer.
'So boring,' she thought with a huff of breath, clearly unimpressed.
Left with no choice, she silently stood and watched as the glowing figures steadily grew larger in the horizon. Her gaze occasionally flickered to Lancelot's motionless form, checking if he had broken out of her illusion. So far, everything still looked stable.
After a brief pause, Lone Wolf opened his backpack and brought out a strange-looking chain. It resembled handcuffs—but was far thicker, heavier, and clearly not made for mortals.
There were two pairs. One had a long connecting chain between the cuffs—likely meant for Lancelot's legs. The other had an extremely short chain, barely giving any room between the cuffs—clearly for his hands.
The longer chain would at least let him move with a semblance of freedom—just enough to walk, but never to run. Upon seeing the cuffs, Scarlett Fox's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
She hadn't expected Lone Wolf to come this prepared. Her crimson lips parted slightly as she muttered under her breath, "With this, handling him will be much easier..."
Without wasting time, Lone Wolf went over to Lancelot and calmly cuffed his wrists and ankles. He was methodical, silent—like someone who had done this many times before.
Just then, the other bounty hunters arrived.
The moment their eyes landed on Lancelot, cuffed and unconscious, they all froze in shock. None of them could believe what they were seeing.
Scarlett Fox answered their unspoken questions with a faint smirk.
"I trapped him in an illusion," she said coolly. "I used his unstable emotions against him."
The others exchanged glances before nodding in understanding.
"It looks like emotion is his weak point... He couldn't take the betrayal from his brother," Scar said, his voice low as his eyes lingered on Lancelot with an unreadable glint. "They've always been close. If we'd tried brute force, capturing him would've been impossible. His strength... it's not something any of us can fully comprehend."
The others likely shared the same thought.
All eyes were on Lancelot now.
Even now, restrained and unconscious, he looked dangerous—like a beast in temporary slumber. That they managed to capture him still felt surreal.
Everything had gone too smoothly.
So smooth that they had to question if this man was truly a Four Star Souler.
But deep down, they knew. If Lancelot hadn't been so emotionally broken, capturing him would've required all their strength, every trump card they possessed —and even then, they would have been lucky to come out alive.
At best, all they could have done was exhaust him.
INSIDE THE ILLUSION (1)
Meanwhile, within the illusion...
Lancelot was still unaware of what was happening in the real world.
His father and mother had taken him downstairs. Standing outside the front door were two familiar figures— Steve and Jane.
They were people he had once trusted.
Before the betrayal, before the chaos, before everything had fallen apart— These two had looked after him during the apocalypse. Now, they stood as guards, hired from a high-ranking security company known for dealing with supernatural threats.
But they were in trouble. Fighting for their lives against strange, vicious beasts.
The creatures were massive— Wolf-like in form, with coarse grey fur, hulking bodies, and snarling muzzles. Their faces were that of wolves, but their lower canines jutted out like boar tusks, curved and deadly. There were three of them.
A horrifying hybrid between boar and wolf.
And their tusks... were their greatest weapons—designed to tear through flesh like paper.
Lancelot's eyes widened the moment he saw them. He recognized these beasts.
The Famous Silver Fanged Wolves.
Meanwhile, Steve and Jane were out of ammunition. Now, they were using the handles of their rifles as blunt weapons, expertly wielding them like clubs. Both were skilled in martial arts, and despite the odds, they fought fiercely.
All around them, chaos reigned. Three mangled corpses lay on the floor—guards who had already fallen to the beasts. Their bodies were half-devoured.
"Go! Go! Go!!! We'll hold them off!" Steve yelled frantically when he saw Lancelot's parents.
"Let's go," Lancelot's father said, his voice grim as he led them around the side of the house, away from the beasts' sightline.
They sprinted to the parking lot— Where five futuristic cars were waiting.
Each vehicle was unlike anything seen in today's world. Two looked like luxury sports cars, golden and sleek—shining like polished treasure. [Lamborghinis.]
Another two were rugged, Jeep-like vehicles.
Thick wheels. Reinforced frames. Designed for off-road survival.
And the last one bore the contours of a modern-day Bugatti—sleek, elegant, but less practical for their situation.
It was obvious—
Before the apocalypse, Lancelot's father had been a man of wealth.
Without hesitation, the man led them to the Jeep-shaped car. It was their best bet for survival. Strong body, durable design, high clearance everything they needed for a rough escape.
He quickly opened the door for his wife. She wasted no time and got in, still clutching baby Lancelot tightly in her arms.
As soon as she entered, he shut the door firmly behind her.
"Wait here. I'll be back in a jiffy... No matter what happens, don't make a sound. Noise will attract those beasts," he whispered urgently before turning and running back toward the mansion.