From the observation balcony above, a man stood quietly with his arms behind his back.
Laskey.
Former Cipher Pol agent, once considered one of the finest of his time. Now stationed here as an instructor.
His eyes were not on the instructors. Nor the cadets in general.
They were fixed on two figures.
One… his daughter.
And the other… the boy who had just walked away.
Kalifa stood among the trainees, her posture straight, expression composed. Beside her, Alpha remained equally disciplined.
Too close.
That was the problem.
Laskey's gaze hardened slightly.
Attachments in Cipher Pol were not bonds. They were liabilities.
He had seen enough to know how this ended.
Captured agents. Broken minds. Dead bodies.
All because someone hesitated.
"…This won't work."
He thought silently.
Separating them was the logical decision. Cruel, yes… but necessary.
Alive daughters were better than dead ones.
He had promised his wife.
No matter what, he would make sure they survived.
Even if they hated him for it.
"Chief Instructor!"
A subordinate approached quickly and stopped at a respectful distance.
"A Celestial Dragon has arrived."
Laskey's expression didn't change.
"…Understood."
He stepped down from the balcony, his movements calm and controlled. His thoughts, however, had already shifted.
Celestial Dragons.
A group he had dealt with enough times.
Arrogant. Careless. Untouchable.
Idiots playing gods.
By the time he reached the training field, the instructors were already kneeling.
The cadets followed shortly after.
At the center of it all stood a small figure.
Saint George.
Laskey stepped forward and lowered himself to one knee.
"Saint."
His tone was steady, respectful. Perfectly measured.
"Mm."
A simple acknowledgment.
Permission granted.
Laskey rose without hesitation. There was no reason for him to stay longer than necessary.
But as he turned,
His gaze met the child's.
For a brief moment, his body froze.
"…!"
Something felt off.
Not wrong.
Not threatening.
Just… off.
He had seen countless people in his life.
Fools who thought themselves kings.
Beasts who relied on brute strength.
Men who carried themselves like they ruled the world.
And then there were monsters…
The kind that changed the era they lived in.
This child…
The boy's eyes were calm, Too calm.
There was no arrogance, no emptiness, no childish ignorance.
Only awareness.
Sharp. Focused. Controlled.
Laskey broke eye contact first.
'…Ridiculous.'
He turned away, his thoughts tightening.
Comparing a Celestial Dragon to those men…was absurd.
And yet…
His eyes narrowed slightly as he walked away.
He had felt this before, something similar.
"…I'm overthinking."
He muttered inwardly.
His gaze shifted briefly toward the training field again.
Toward Kalifa.
A thought surfaced.
Sharp and sudden.
'…What if....'
He stopped, 'no...what am I thinking...'
The thought didn't disappear completely,
Rob Lucci resumed his training the moment Luke left.
His strikes remained as precise as before, each movement following the form drilled into him countless times.
Yet despite that, a small part of his attention remained on the child that had just left.
A Celestial Dragon.
That alone should have made him no different from the others.
Lucci's eyes narrowed slightly.
The boy did not carry himself like the Celestial Dragons he had seen before.
No arrogance, no look of superiority.
Instead, Luke had watched.
Observed.
As if he was evaluating something.
Or someone.
"..."
Lucci threw another punch.
The training dummy shook violently.
Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with him.
His task was to become stronger.
Nothing else mattered.
A short distance away, Kalifa was also watching the direction Luke had left.
Not openly.
Just a glance every now and then.
Her father always taught her to observe.
To pay attention.
To notice details others missed.
And what she noticed today was strange.
Luke never once looked nervous.
Not around the instructors.
Not around the cadets.
Not even around her father.
Most Celestial Dragons she had seen acted like spoiled children pretending to be important.
This one didn't.
He acted as though everything around him was exactly where it should be.
The thought bothered her.
Because she couldn't tell if that confidence came from ignorance...
Or understanding.
Later that evening, Laskey sat behind his desk while looking over several training reports.
A knock came from the door.
"Enter."
The door opened and Kalifa entered alongside Alpha.
Both stood silently before the desk.
Laskey set the report down.
For a few moments, nobody spoke.
His eyes moved between the two girls.
"...Kalifa."
"Yes, Father."
"What was your impression of Saint George?"
Both girls froze.
The question caught them completely off guard.
Even Alpha looked surprised.
Kalifa hesitated.
Carefully choosing her words.
Speaking carelessly about a Celestial Dragon was dangerous.
"He was... different."
Laskey raised an eyebrow.
"Different how?"
Kalifa frowned.
Trying to find the right words.
"I don't know."
"He was watching everyone."
"Not just looking."
"Watching."
Laskey remained silent.
"He paid attention."
"He wasn't acting like the Celestial Dragons I've seen before."
"...I see."
That was all he said.
But internally, his thoughts became much heavier.
Because that answer matched his own conclusion.
Next Day ---
The next morning, Laskey sat alone in his office.
From his office window, Laskey stared down at the cadets.
His mind was a storm.
Yesterday's brief eye contact with Saint George had planted a dangerous, terrifying seed in his chest.
Was it a trick of his mind? Or was that three-year-old child truly the monster his instincts screamed he was?
If he was right, it was a generational anomaly.
A god who actually possessed the eyes of a king.
A sudden knock shattered his thoughts.
"Chief! You have been requested by Saint George.
Immediately. In the VIP Lounge."
Laskey's expression didn't change, but his pulse quickened.
The gamble begins, he thought, adjusting his coat.
The VIP Lounge,
The air inside the VIP lounge was thick with suffocating tension.
When Laskey entered, the sight before him was almost comical, yet entirely terrifying.
A line of elite base instructors stood in a perfect row, their heads bowed so low their chins pressed into their chests.
Cold sweat visibly drenched their uniforms.
At the center of the room, sitting comfortably on a velvet sofa, was the 3yrs old Celestial Dragon.
Luke was casually picking grapes from a golden bowl, putting in his mouth with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
He didn't even look up as Laskey approached.
Laskey immediately sank to one knee, lowering his head.
"Saint George. Guanhao welcomes your grace."
"Mm."
Luke swallowed a grape, finally turning his calm, deep gaze toward the older man.
He gave a slight nod.
"Rise."
Laskey stood, keeping his posture perfectly measured.
"May I ask what your grace's wish is for summoning me? Any discomfort you experience on this island is our absolute failure."
Luke leaned back, his tiny legs dangling off the edge of the large sofa.
He sighed heavily, a look of great boredom crossing his face.
"I am quite bored in my house, Laskey.
Back in Mariejois, it is always the same.
Reading books, writing boring scripts..."
Several instructors immediately became nervous.
Bored Celestial Dragons were dangerous.
History had proven that many times.
Luke popped another grape into his mouth.
"I've been thinking."
Laskey remained silent.
Luke continued.
"I think I need a hobby."
The instructors immediately went pale.
One even looked like he was about to collapse.
In brief, a Celestial Dragon looking for a "hobby" usually meant mass executions, human hunting, or horrific torture.
But Luke merely smiled, a pure, innocent expression that didn't reach his eyes.
"I read a few storybooks recently.
Books about brave, noble knights who train vigorously to defeat terrifying monsters.
It looked... amusing. So, I want to train like that."
Huh?
Laskey's internal gears spun instantly. He began to see where this was going.
"And naturally," Luke continued,
"I thought to myself...if I wish to train, where better to train,
than the best Wing of the World Government? The Cipher Pol."
Laskey caught it instantly.
The child didn't just say Cipher Pol.
He explicitly framed it as The World Government's Wing.
It was a beautifully clever play of words, a subtle, sharp reminder.
Cipher Pol served the World Government and
The World Government served the Celestial Dragons.
You are the dogs of the Gods above.
It was a quiet, absolute warning wrapped in a child's whim.
The instructors heard praise.
Laskey heard a warning.
Luke smiled innocently.
"I would like to train."
Several instructors immediately began nodding.
"A brilliant idea, Saint!"
"An excellent hobby!"
"A wise decision!"
Laskey ignored the shameless flattery.
Luke continued.
"While observing yesterday, I noticed several promising cadets."
That made Laskey pause.
Promising?
A three year old noticed promising cadets?
Interesting.
Luke tilted his head.
"There was one in particular."
"The quiet one."
"The gloomy one with dead eyes."
He snapped his fingers.
"What was his name again?"
One of the instructors immediately stepped forward, bowing frantically.
"Y-Your Grace, that would be Cadet Rob Lucci!"
"Right, whatever that guy's name is. He seems interesting,"
Luke said lightly, waving a dismissive hand.
Then, he looked directly into Laskey's eyes.
Laskey remained perfectly still.
Of all the cadets.
Of all the trainees.
The one Saint George remembered was Lucci....huh...
"Of course, I wouldn't want to interfere with the base's official schedule."
Luke smiled.
"Trained dogs are better than wild ones."
The instructors laughed nervously.
"I simply thought a private training session after hours would be beneficial."
Luke looked directly at Laskey, lips curved into a sharp grin,
"Wouldn't that be a wonderful idea, Agent Laskey?"
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
Laskey felt a chill run down his spine, but internally, a massive wave of confirmation washed over him.
It was a flawless tactical move.
By making it an after hours, private session, the child was giving the base leeway,
not disrupting their ultimate weapons manufacturing
while demanding his personal entertainment in absolute secrecy.
His suspicions were entirely confirmed.
Then Laskey bowed slightly.
"It would be our honor, Saint."
Luke smiled.
"Excellent."
Behind him, the other instructors broke into a frantic chorus of bootlicking and asskissing,
eagerly praising the Saint's "unparalleled vision"
and rejoicing that their humble base was chosen for such an honor.
Luke merely chuckled, waving them off.
Laskey bowed once more and stepped out to personally arrange the commands.
An hour later, standard drills concluded.
Laskey stood outside the heavy mahogany doors of the VIP lounge.
Beside him stood a young girl.
Kalifa.
She wore a sharp, professional outfit, her posture rigid.
She looked incredibly serious, yet the slight tremor in her fingers betrayed her deep nervousness.
"Father..."
Kalifa spoke quietly.
"Why me?"
Laskey looked ahead.
"Observe. You'll know"
She blinked.
Before she could ask further questions, the door opened.
Luke appeared.
Laskey immediately bowed.
"Saint."
Luke's gaze shifted toward Kalifa.
One eyebrow rose slightly.
Good.
He noticed.
"The training hall has been prepared and awaits your grace."
---
As they began to walk down the grand corridor,
Laskey stepped slightly behind the child, speaking in a low, respectful tone.
"Your grace's comfort and needs are our top priority. Your safety is entirely non negotiable."
Luke nodded shifting his gaze to Kalifa.
"And this is?"
Laskey spoke carefully.
"Kalifa."
"My daughter."
"A promising cadet."
Luke looked mildly surprised.
"Your daughter?"
"Yes, Saint."
"I see."
Laskey continued.
"Saint, during your stay at Guanhao, I am appointing Kalifa to be your personal, fulltime assistant."
Luke paused, tilting his head.
"Anything your grace wants, needs, or commands, Kalifa will provide.
She will accompany you at all times, right by your side,"
Laskey continued, his heart pounding against his ribs.
He was pushing the chips all in.
"If her services are to your liking,
it would be the highest honor for Cipher Pol, and for her,
to continue accompanying your grace...
even after you leave Guanhao."
Kalifa took a sharp breath. Though nervous, she bowed perfectly.
"It is an honor to serve you, Saint."
Laskey's hidden gamble was on.
If Luke took a liking to Kalifa and claimed her as a personal, fulltime Celestial Dragon assistant,
she would be completely, legally removed from the meat grinder of Cipher Pol.
She would be safe.
She would have a secure, luxurious life under the wing of a man Laskey believed was destined to rule the era.
Luke studied her briefly.
Then looked back toward Laskey.
A faint smile appeared.
"Agent Laskey."
"Yes, Saint?"
"If that's the case..."
Luke tilted his head, his voice dripping with sudden, dangerous coldness.
"Are you attempting to get rid of your responsibilities?"
The color instantly drained from both their faces.
"Y-Your Grace!"
Laskey instantly dropped to both knees, his forehead hitting the floorboards with a heavy thud.
Kalifa dropped right beside him, her heart hammering violently.
"Please forgive my clumsiness!
I would never dare disrespect the absolute authority of the Celestial Dragons!
My life belongs to the gods, I only meant...."
"Hahaha!"
A bright, childish chuckle broke the suffocating pressure.
Luke was grinning, waving his hands amusedly.
"Stand up, stand up.
I was only joking, Agent Laskey.
I know you have countless important matters to attend to for the World Government.
I am not a tyrant."
Laskey slowly rose, exhaling a breath he felt he had been holding for a century.
He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, bowing deeply.
"Thank your grace for your unmatched magnanimity."
With the tension resolved, the group resumed their walk toward the private training hall.
Kalifa walked silently beside Luke.
Her eyes, sharp and trained to observe, constantly darted to the side, studying the profile of the little boy walking next to her.
He was tiny, looking no different from a fragile toddler.
Yet his words, his terrifying presence, and the way he completely manipulated her fearsome father with a single sentence proved otherwise.
And for the second time in two days, she found herself thinking the same thing.
'Saint George truly was different'