NOVEL WEB Chapter 12: Chapter 12
Another evening, another tea session.
Frankenstein arrived with his trusty tea trolley—because solving world problems was best done over a hot beverage—and placed the cup on the side table for Raizel.
Raizel glanced at the tea and casually remarked, "It seems not just humans are insecure."
Frankenstein, already sipping his own tea, nodded. "It seems so. And I'm curious about their results, Master."
Raizel took a slow sip, giving Frankenstein a side glance.
"Another madman," he thought.
Setting down the file, he suggested, "So, shall we pay them a visit?"
But Frankenstein immediately shut that idea down.
"It's better if we don't."
Raizel raised an eyebrow. Now, that was interesting.
"Why?"
Frankenstein, clearly trying to tread carefully, explained, "Ever since Master left Lukedonia, world much has changed. Lukedonia isolated itself from the world. The same goes for werewolves, but not entirely. At least they kept their presence hidden from humans. Basically, the world is now ruled by humans. Still…"
Raizel tilted his head slightly.
"Still?"
Frankenstein sighed, setting his teacup down.
"Union, a secret society, has a strong influence worldwide. If I'm not mistaken, they're connected to the people I once worked with. And if I'm really not mistaken, Antigen might fall under them."
Raizel gave it some thought.
He considered this. He already knew most of it—maybe even more than Frankenstein did. But the fact that Antigen was tied to the Union? Interesting, but not surprising.
After all, anyone who read the manhwa already knew what Union's real motive was.
So, he asked the only relevant question:
"Does that bother you?"
Not for him, anyway.
Frankenstein sighed again—the sigh of a man who had seen too much and yet knew it was about to get worse.
"It does," he admitted. "Moreover, Master is supposed to be dead. If they learn of your existence, it's bad. Maybe not just Union will target us."
But Raizel cut him off halfway.
"It doesn't concern me, Frankenstein. Maybe the world has changed, but that doesn't change who I am."
Frankenstein blinked. Once. Twice. Then sighed again, this time in resignation.
"Yes, Master."
And then—because Raizel never just left things there—he added something that made Frankenstein visibly tense.
"And Union… must be destroyed."
Frankenstein said nothing.
Raizel took another sip of tea.
"Make arrangements."
A pause.
"Yes, Master," Frankenstein replied, as if they were discussing dinner plans.
A brief moment passed before Raizel casually asked, "How's the weather tomorrow?"
Frankenstein, unfazed by the shift in conversation, answered without hesitation.
"Heavy storm, Master."
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James had put in the effort.
Finding Bella's old address? Done.
Breaking into the house and digging through her stuff? A delightful afternoon activity.
Using a home video of her mom's voice to lure her to an old ballet studio for a dramatic villain moment? Chef's kiss.
And now?
Now, he got to enjoy the fear in her eyes as she stepped cautiously into the dimly lit studio.
Bella's breathing was uneven, her hands clenched into fists as she scanned the room, searching for her mother. James leaned against the mirror, watching with amusement as her gaze locked onto the TV playing the pre-recorded voice. Her panic deepened, and he relished it.
Walking forward, he let his fingers brush against his own reflection in the mirror, grinning. Damn, I look good.
With a dark chuckle, he muttered, "That's my favorite part."
He expected silence. Maybe a shaky breath from Bella.
Instead—
A voice, not Bella's, answered casually,
"But mine hasn't even begun yet."
…
James froze.
His entire lunatic brain went, Wait. What?
Bella turned too, startled, her wide eyes darting to the far end of the room.
James spun around—and there he was.
A stranger.
Just standing there.
Silent. Unbothered. Looking at him like he was the trespasser here.
Bella took a sharp step back, confusion and tension knotting her expression. "Who—?"
James, baring his teeth, snarled first, "Who are you?"
The stranger—no, Raizel, because of course, this guy had a name and an infuriatingly calm face—smiled, like James had just asked him something stupid.
"A stranger?" he echoed, tilting his head ever so slightly.
James didn't hesitate. He lunged, hand outstretched to grab this smug little—
And suddenly, he wasn't lunging.
He was floating.
Correction.
He was being held up in the air, completely immobilized.
Bella gasped, stumbling back, her eyes darting between James, who was midair, and Raizel, who hadn't even moved.
Raizel's voice was quiet. Cold.
"Filth," he murmured, "shouldn't lay a hand on me."
Then, with the flick of an invisible force, James was hurled across the room.
He slammed into the opposite wall with a crunch, collapsing onto the wooden floor.
Bella flinched but didn't move, her breath caught in her throat as she watched James groan and scramble to his feet.
James did not hesitate.
He ran.
As fast as he could.
Because whatever the hell that thing was, it wasn't normal.
Bella, still frozen in shock, turned to Raizel, her voice finally finding her. "…Who are you?"
Raizel ignored her, his eyes lazily following James' retreat.
James sprinted into the night, but something felt off.
The scent.
Raizel's scent.
It lingered, like a predator marking its prey.
And then, realization crept in.
He was looping.
Same alley. Same path.
Over. And over. And over.
Bella stepped toward the entrance, frowning. "Why is he—?"
But before she could finish, James' frantic footsteps suddenly stopped.
A voice—inside his head this time—whispered, "Too bad. You're not good at running."
James stumbled. His mind screamed at him to keep going, but his body refused.
And then he turned—
And he was back.
Back where he started.
Back in front of Raizel.
And Bella.
Raizel, completely unfazed, adjusted an imaginary cuff on his sleeve like this was all so tiresome.
Bella, still recovering from the whiplash of events, stared between them. "What... just happened?"
James' brain, meanwhile, finally caught up.
Oh.
Oh no.