It was morning, and sunlight spilled across the streets like golden ribbons as the city awoke to its usual chaos.

Inside Azreal's newly acquired shop, the air buzzed with movement and purpose. Men in blue uniforms — movers— carried in stacks of polished wooden chairs and tables, setting them down with heavy thuds that echoed through the half-finished café.

Hulk's towering figure stood out among them, easily lifting tables that took two men to handle. Sweat glistened across his temples as he arranged furniture in precise order. Shot, sleeves rolled up, dragged tables to their spots, glancing back every few seconds to check the alignment.

Opposite the street, inside a modest little shop that smelled of baked bread . Caden and Carl pressed their faces against the window, their eyes fixed on Azreal's crew.

"I wonder what those aliens are up to now," Caden muttered, squinting suspiciously.

Carl leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "Wait, their numbers have increased. That woman—" he pointed toward Nena, who was examining color samples outside the shop "—she wasn't there before. She must've joined them recently."

Caden nodded gravely. "You're right. She wasn't with them when they first came here. She's probably one of them too."

Carl's expression darkened. He grabbed Caden's shoulder with the seriousness of someone who had just cracked a government secret. "I know what they're planning, Caden. I finally understand everything."

Caden turned quickly, his brows furrowed. "You do? Tell me."

Carl leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "They're bringing their people one by one to invade Earth. They knew if they all came at once, humans would get suspicious. So they're coming slowly, blending in."

Caden's eyes widened in realization. "You're right. That must be it! But… what about those chairs and tables?"

Carl's face was grim. "What if those chairs are actually secret weapons disguised as furniture?"

"Or maybe," Caden added with growing intensity, "those chairs are gateways — ways to brings more of their kind to Earth!"

They both stared across the street as if the wooden chairs themselves were alien artifacts.

Carl frowned. "But why are those guys helping them? Are they being mind-controlled?"

"Or maybe," Caden whispered dramatically, "they're aliens too. For all we know, this plan has been in motion for years, and now it's finally happening."

Carl clenched his fist. "Then we'll stop them. We'll ruin their plan before they take over Earth."

Caden nodded fiercely. "Yeah. But we've got to be careful — one wrong move, and we could end up like them."

Suddenly—

Both boys yelped in pain as their mother yanked them each by the ear.

"Ow! Ow! Mom!"

Her expression was both tired and furious. "Rather than sitting here gossiping about other people's business, why don't you help me in the shop? Table two has been waiting!"

She released their ears, and the boys stumbled away, rubbing them with pitiful groans. As she watched them go, she glanced once more out the window at Azreal's shop and murmured, "What are those people doing that has my boys so obsessed with them?"

---

Back at Azreal's café, the movers finished their work and left. Hulk and Shot took over, straightening chairs and tables until the layout was perfect.

Moments later, Fredrick and Jack returned with buckets of white paint, while Aria accompanied Nena to the cloth designer to finalize the uniforms.

Laisa, Lyra, and Lexi rolled up their sleeves and joined the painting effort. Laughter and chatter filled the shop as they brushed the walls white, the smell of fresh paint mingling with sunlight.

Azreal stood among them, a brush in hand, eyes sharp with focus as he painted alongside his comrades.

Laisa dipped her brush and asked, "I wonder where Cain is now."

Azreal smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "He must be getting himself a job right about now."

---

At the Police Force Station

The city police headquarters loomed ahead like a fortress of authority. It was a massive building of glass and steel, its front marked by bold white letters that gleamed in the morning sun: Veldora City Police Department.

Outside, rows of black-and-white police cars lined the curb, each one polished to a mirror sheen. The siren lights glinted red and blue under the sunlight, and the low hum of radios and distant chatter of officers filled the air.

Cain stepped out of the taxi and adjusted his black suit, his tie perfectly aligned. His expression was calm — almost too calm. He stared up at the building and murmured to himself,

"So… it's time for me to become a working man. Not sure if I should feel proud… or liberated."

He smiled faintly, hands sliding into his pockets as he walked forward, the automatic doors parting for him with a mechanical hiss.

Inside, the lobby was bright and wide. Officers in blue uniforms moved briskly between desks, their badges glinting. Phones rang, papers shuffled, and the faint smell of coffee and disinfectant hung in the air.

At the far end stood a reception desk, guarded by a young woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper smile. She looked up as Cain approached.

"Excuse me," she said politely, though her gaze held suspicion. "What are you here for?"

Cain tilted his head slightly, his smile disarmingly calm. "I'm here to get a job — you know, work as a police officer or something. I don't really know how this whole process works, so I was hoping you could show me to your boss. The head of the department, maybe?"

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You're here… to get a job?"

"Of course," Cain said smoothly. "These days, employment's tough to come by. I figured if I can't be useful to myself, I might as well be useful to the people."

The woman's fingers subtly slid beneath her desk, pressing a small red button — the silent alarm. Her smile froze, tension creeping into her jaw.

Cain's gaze flicked downward, noticing the motion. His smile faded, his tone shifting — darker, colder.

"Miss Receptionist," he said softly.

Her hand froze mid-motion. "Y-Yes? What is it?"

Cain leaned forward, his shadow falling over the desk. His voice dropped, smooth as silk but heavy with something that made the air itself feel heavier.

"What's your greatest sin?"

The woman blinked, confused but uneasy. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, forcing a nervous laugh.

Cain's gaze didn't waver. "Do you know that lying," he said softly, his tone carrying a weight that felt unnatural, "is a sin in the eyes of God?"

The woman's smile faltered. "I—I don't understand what you're trying to say," she stammered, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered below the desk.

Cain tilted his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't worry," he said with a calm, almost kind smile. "You'll understand soon enough."

He reached across the counter, his hand cold as marble as it wrapped around hers. The warmth in the room seemed to drain away. "Just looking at you," he murmured, "I can tell you're a sinner. But don't fret…" His lips curled slightly. "Even I'm a sinner myself."

Linda's heart pounded. She tried to pull her hand back, but his grip tightened. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Panic set in, and with her free hand she began slamming the red emergency button beneath the desk again and again, her voice breaking. "L-let me go!"

Cain's eyes glowed faintly crimson. "Now then," he said, his tone low and smooth. "Let's see your sins."

The air around them seemed to twist, the colors of the world bending and darkening. Linda's pupils rolled upward until her eyes turned ghostly white. Her breathing slowed as her body froze in place.

Cain leaned forward slightly, his expression half curious, half amused. "Hmm," he whispered. "Jealousy… hatred… contempt… anger—so much anger." He chuckled. "Oh? What's this?" His smile widened. "Adultery. How… human."

Suddenly, alarms blared. A mechanical voice echoed through the building: 'Intruder detected. Commencing lockdown.'

Cain sighed. "It seems the police are getting hyper." He straightened his tie, exhaling lazily. "I better wrap things up."

Linda stood still, her face blank, her eyes glowing white.

Cain looked at her name tag and smiled faintly. "Miss Linda," he said smoothly. "That's quite a nice name you've got there." He released her hand, his tone almost playful. "It seems there's been a misunderstanding. The officers think there's an intruder here—why don't you clear that up for me?"

Her head nodded stiffly. As his grip loosened, color returned to her eyes.

A group of armed officers burst into the lobby, weapons drawn. "Check every floor! The intruder must not escape!" shouted a senior officer.

Cain sighed again and raised a hand casually. "Gentlemen, gentlemen," he said, his calm voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

Everyone froze.

"There's no need to panic," Cain continued with a faint grin. "Miss Linda here has something she'd like to share with us all." He gestured to her as if inviting her onto a stage. "Please, Miss Linda. The floor is yours."

Linda blinked, her voice trembling but obedient. "E-everyone… there's been a mistake. There's no intruder in the building. I accidentally pressed the emergency button." She bowed quickly, keeping her eyes low. "I'm so sorry for the trouble."

The officers exchanged confused looks.

The senior officer sighed. "Linda, you need to be more careful with that. We can't afford false alarms."

"Yes, sir," she said quickly. "It won't happen again."

"Good." The officer turned toward Cain, his brow furrowed. "And who are you, exactly?"

Cain gave a small smile. "Please excuse me, Miss Linda," he said gently, before walking toward the senior officer. His shoes clicked softly against the tiled floor. "You seem to be in charge here."

The man frowned. "No. And unless you're here to file a report, you should leave. We're busy."

Cain smiled wider. "So you're not in charge…" He tilted his head. "Then take me to the one who is."

"I said leave."

Cain sighed faintly, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Take me to your superior, Mr. Gon," he said, reading the man's tag aloud.

The moment his hand made contact, Gon's pupils dilated, then turned white for a brief instant before returning to normal. His tone shifted instantly, polite and calm. "Yes, sir. Right this way."

Cain smirked. "This went smoother than I expected."

He followed Officer Gon through a hallway lined with gray walls and steel doors. The sound of muffled phones and clicking keyboards filled the air. Outside the window, rows of black-and-white patrol cars gleamed under the sun.

They stopped before a large wooden door. Gon knocked.

"Come in," came a deep voice from within.

The door clicked open. Inside, the office was neatly arranged—flags stood at the corners, a framed city emblem hung behind the desk. Seated there was a broad-shouldered man in his fifties, strands of gray streaking his dark hair. His uniform was crisp, adorned with medals.

He rested his hands calmly on the desk and looked up. "What's the issue?"

Officer Gon saluted. "Sir, someone's here to see you."

The man nodded slowly. "Someone to see me? …Let him in."

Cain stepped inside, his eyes glinting faintly as a quiet smile spread across his lips.

"Hello," he said softly.

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