CHAPTER 29: PREPARATION

[Two Hours Before C Heads to the Underground Club]

Dusk had long faded by the time C finally arrived home. The sun had completely vanished, leaving behind a dark sky sprinkled with faint stars.

The night air was cold, wrapping around his emotionless figure as he stepped inside, away from the noise and chaos of the day.

He didn’t waste a second. C’s mind always laser-focused on the endgame, shifted immediately to the next phase of his plan.

He moved to the dim corner of his room where a small desk stood like a command center.

Laid out neatly across its surface were components he’d ordered online earlier that morning. To most people, they looked like harmless, mundane parts. But in C’s hands, they would become something far more significant.

The process of assembling the pistol began.

First, C took out the 3D-printed frame, made from a specialized polymer, lightweight yet impressively durable.

His fingers worked swiftly and steadily as he picked up the smaller internal components: springs, firing pin, trigger mechanism. He worked with the precision of a surgeon, every motion deliberate, without hesitation.

This had to be perfect. There was zero room for error. One flaw, one overlooked defect, and it could cost him everything.

Next came the modifications. He mounted a tactical LED flashlight beneath the barrel bright enough to cut through the darkness, yet focused so it wouldn’t scatter.

Then, with care, he attached a matte-black suppressor, forged from a titanium alloy, light, sleek, and highly efficient at muffling the sound of a gunshot.

Once every internal part was aligned, he fitted the upper slide, locking the entire mechanism into place.

The pistol was done. Sleek. Jet black. With the flashlight and suppressor mounted firmly beneath and at the end of the barrel.

C lifted it, feeling the solid, familiar weight in his hand.

He pointed it at a blank wall, imagining a target, and squeezed the modified trigger. A soft click followed.

Perfect.

He placed it back on the desk with quiet precision. Next came the flashbang necklace.

This wasn’t meant to kill, it was a distraction device. A tool to stir chaos, blind, and confuse. Something to tilt the odds in his favor during unpredictable situations.

He reached for the materials: magnesium powder, flash cotton, and a compact trigger circuit.

He began measuring each element, thinking through the dosage, just strong enough to disorient, but not cause permanent damage.

But just as his fingers touched the first component.

Ding-dong.

The sharp ring of the doorbell shattered the silence and snapped his concentration.

C paused. His expression remained blank, but his gaze now shifted toward the front door.

"Tch. Who the hell visits at this hour?" he muttered, pushing himself up.

He opened the door slowly, just enough to peek outside.

A blonde-haired girl stood there, her golden hair tied neatly with a soft blue ribbon.

Luna.

C opened the door wider, his tone filled with confusion. "Luna? What are you doing here?"

She stared at him, face flushed red, mouth ajar as a weird stuttering noise escaped.

"P-Put on a shirt, idiot!" she suddenly screamed, eyes shutting tight.

Startled, C instinctively grabbed her and pulled her inside.

He backed her against the wall and quickly covered her mouth with his hand, making Luna’s eyes shoot wide open in shock.

"Are you serious right now, Luna? Yelling like that in the middle of the night? What if someone heard you?" he whispered sharply, leaning closer.

Luna didn’t hesitate, she bit his hand.

"Ouch, Luna," C hissed, pulling back and looking at the red mark on his hand.

"That’s your fault!" she snapped, cheeks burning. "You dragged me inside without a warning, and you’re not even wearing a shirt!"

"My fault? You’re the one who showed up unannounced at my place. This is my house. I can wear or not wear whatever I want," C shot back flatly.

"H-Huh?! So you’re saying being naked is normal now? You pervert!" Luna pointed an accusing finger at him.

C sighed and rubbed his temples. Her energy was giving him a headache. "Luna, you should’ve called before coming here. But since you’re already here, I could use your help with something."

"No. I’m leaving." She reached for the doorknob.

C gently grabbed her wrist before she could leave. "It’s about Ivansia. Come on. You promised at school that you’d help me."

Her anger began to melt. She hesitated, then let go of the doorknob and turned to face him.

"Tch... fine. But put on a damn shirt first," she mumbled. Her eyes flicked awkwardly between his chest and face.

"Alright, alright. Just wait here."

C headed to his room and glanced at the mirror.

His reflection stared back—well-built, lean, muscular like a calisthenics athlete.

Is my body really that bad? Honestly, it’s above average.

Since I don’t have a face, I’ve focused on keeping my body and hair well-maintained. It’s the only thing I can control.

...Or maybe Luna got flustered because I look too damn good.

C shook his head.

No. Luna’s not like that. She’s not the type to get distracted over something like this.

Focus, C. Stay on track.

He returned wearing a simple white T-shirt. "Alright, Luna. Come here."

Luna got up from where she had been sitting near the door and cautiously approached.

"This is my room," C said as he opened the door and motioned her inside.

She walked in slowly, glaring at him with suspicion.

"If you try anything weird, I swear I’ll scream."

"I’m not that kind of guy," C replied with a deadpan expression, raising his hands. "Especially not with the daughter of a famous Tech CEO. I’d be dead by sunrise."

"Hmph. At least you know that."

He gestured toward the bed. "You can sit on the bed if you want. Or the carpet, if the bed’s too weird for you."

Luna nodded and chose the carpet, leaning her back against the edge of the bed.

"Want something to drink?" C asked.

"Juice," Luna replied.

"Don’t have any."

She tilted her head. "Then coffee."

"Out."

Her lips twitched. Her hands clenched.

"Why offer if you’ve got nothing?! Just bring me some water already!"

C chuckled under his breath. That was the reaction he’d been waiting for.

He walked off to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.