Williams turned to the frightened but determined man, his silver gaze scrutinizing him deeply.

After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice low and light.

"What do you want?"

Miguel flinched at the other party's calm voice, but steeled himself and replied.

"I'm going to the Red Wings' shelter. Is there a problem?"

Although he tried to suppress the trembling in his voice, he couldn't. The aura of the person before him was simply too threatening—like a cold blade pressed against the neck.

Williams nodded, then turned away. Gradually, his back faded into the mist.

"You can go."

Miguel sighed in relief after the man had disappeared. He initially thought the man was a rogue evolved, but it seemed he was part of the Red Wings, which relieved him.

He patted his chest, and stepped into the car. His son was still in the car, nervously clutching the driver's seat.

"We'll be okay."

He reassured the boy, then restarted the half-ruined car. It coughed out smoke, then sped up. The mist dispersed, revealing the towering red walls of the shelter.

It took him some time, but Miguel finally arrived at the shelter's gate. As expected, it was locked, making him sigh. But even then, there were evolved on the walls who easily spotted the car.

After a bit of tense questioning, he was allowed to drive inside. As soon as the gates closed, he stopped the car and stepped outside with Samuel, his son.

"The head guard wants to see you."

A woman in her mid-thirties appeared before him. She was clad in light armor with a sword by her side, looking regal. Miguel felt jealous just by looking at her gear.

'If only I had this…'

Perhaps his son wouldn't have starved for long. He shook off the thought, then followed her to a stunning building close to the walls. The architecture was impressive, making him feel like the architect was someone of a similar mind as him.

They walked down the brightly lit but empty hallway of the building, then stopped before an office.

The lady knocked, then spoke. "Sir Charles, we've brought them."

"Let them in."

Unexpectedly, it was another voice that answered her. The lady's eyes widened in recognition, but she regained her composure quickly. Opening the door, she allowed Miguel and his son to enter while she stayed back.

As soon as Miguel stepped inside the office, he stiffened. The auras of the two people in the office were overwhelming. One of them was simply tyrannical—like a rough, calloused hand wrapped around his throat.

His gaze zeroed on the young man sitting on the guest cushion. He had unnaturally white hair, and mysterious purple eyes, accompanied by good looks.

The other person was seated on the office chair, looking serious. He had black hair and black eyes, looking unremarkable but dangerous. Miguel gulped, intimidated by the duo.

The person sitting on the office chair spoke first.

"I'm Charles—the Head Guard for the shelter. I won't bother asking useless questions. He wanted to see you—that's all."

Miguel's brows rose in surprise, and he turned back to the white-haired young man.

"Miguel. Am I right?"

The young man met his gaze, then smiled fondly.

Miguel flinched, surprised by the fact that he was recognized. Had he met this young man before? Unfortunately, he couldn't start thinking. He hurriedly nodded, then took something from his pocket.

"I am indeed Miguel. I'm sorry but I don't recognize you. That aside, I've come to ask if I can live in your shelter. I know you save ordinary people but don't easily accept evolved people, but please accept me. I'm willing to give you something you might find precious if you do so."

His words were rushed, and by the time he finished speaking, he was out of breath.

The white-haired young man remained silent for a moment, then chuckled.

"How humble. You need protection, is it?" His gaze shifted to the boy hiding behind Miguel, "Especially for someone as weak and insignificant as him."

Miguel frowned in displeasure, but remained silent. He couldn't afford to offend the unknown guy who seemed to know him. Before he could speak, the young man continued.

"You have the Mech-Smith Class Card with you, right? I'm guessing that's what you want to use as your bargaining chip."

Miguel was shocked, stunned by how accurate the guy's guess was.

'Impossible! How did he know I was having that?'

In the end, he could only grit his teeth and nod. His chip had been easily discovered by the other party, and could be considered irrelevant.

"Well, that's a surprise. However, why don't you use the card for yourself?"

Miguel fell silent at the question, his expression complicated. Indeed, he could have used the card for himself, but he always chose the best decision. He knew that others might find the card valuable, so he couldn't just use it anyhow. He hardened his heart, then locked eyes with the young man.

"That doesn't matter. Are you interested in the deal?"

The white-haired guy chuckled, then crossed one leg over the other

"Sure, sure. Once you hand it over, I'll allow you and your son to stay in the shelter."

Miguel's breath quickened, and he hesitantly placed the golden card on the glass table before him. He sincerely hoped that the other party kept his word.

The young man took the card, examined the information, then tossed it back to him.

"What's wrong?"

He hurriedly asked, feeling uneasy. Was he rejecting the card? He wasn't sure who the guy was exactly, but he knew that this person must have a high position in the shelter, capable of deciding whether he stayed or not.

"Nothing. I believe this Class suits you. You should use it, then work for the shelter."

The purple-eyed young man stood up, then stopped beside Miguel.

"You should take some time to rest." He yawned lazily, "I want you reporting to the Tower by the day after tomorrow."

Saying this, the sleepy young man left the office, leaving Miguel dazed and confused. He had been allowed to live in the shelter, and even to get a job. His bargaining chip had been ignored and returned to him, making him question its appeal.

He turned to Charles, who had been silent throughout his conversation with the other guy.

"Who was that?"

He asked carefully, trying not to seem rude. He already had a few guesses—like a relative of the shelter's top echelons, or one of the strongest in the shelter.

Charles parted his lips, then slowly replied.

"That… was the leader of this shelter—Leon White."

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