"Who are you?"


    Hope tilted his head, studying Julian’s face. ‘Does he truly not recognize me?’ He had grown, yes, but there was no way the man before him wouldn’t remember the one who killed his daughter. Was this ignorance… or deception?


    His gaze sharpened as he spoke, his voice calm yet laced with an unmistakable edge. "Drop the act. You know exactly who I am. In fact, there shouldn''t be anyone in this world you know better."


    Julian frowned, searching his memories for any trace of this young man, but nothing surfaced. “Are you from some prominent family?” he asked, trying to gauge Hope’s identity.


    Hope’s expression darkened. ‘Is he truly feigning ignorance… or has he actually forgotten?’ His patience wore thin. "Who killed your daughter?"


    Julian stiffened. Rage surged through him, his fists clenching as his body trembled. This was his greatest shame, the most painful wound in his soul, yet this nameless young man dared to rip it open. Gritting his teeth, he forced out, "I don’t know."


    Hope’s eyes narrowed. "You don’t know… or you couldn’t find the killer?"


    Julian’s fury erupted. He slammed his fist against the armrest, the force shaking the room. "Enough! If you''re here to play games, get out. I won’t be polite the next time."


    Hope observed him closely. The raw emotion, the unfiltered anger—it wasn’t an act. ‘He’s serious… but how is that possible?’ He had expected hatred, revenge, a burning desire to kill him on sight, yet the city lord knew nothing.


    ‘Something isn’t right. Either way, I’ll get my answers—even if I have to beat them out of him.’


    Stepping forward, hands clasped behind his back, Hope’s voice dropped to an icy whisper. "You will tell me everything you know. Or I’ll beat you within an inch of death, heal you, and repeat the process until you do."


    Julian’s eyes widened in disbelief. This arrogant brat—no older than his early twenties—was threatening him? The City Lord of Serene Sun City?


    A laugh rumbled in Julian’s chest, dark and venomous. "Disrespecting me was one thing. I was willing to let you go unscathed. But it seems I was too lenient." His expression twisted into a murderous grin as he stood. "Now, I will break every limb in your body before tossing you onto the streets like the trash you are."


    Without another word, Julian exploded forward, his sword flashing as he unsheathed it. Water intent surged around him, forming droplets that shimmered like liquid steel along the blade’s edge.


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    Hope shook his head, a trace of disappointment flickering in his eyes. ‘Same old tricks.’


    With a fluid motion, he unsheathed his sword, his form melting into the shadows. In an instant, he vanished from Julian’s sight.


    The City Lord''s eyes widened as his instincts flared in warning. His opponent wasn’t just posturing—he was dangerous. Julian tightened his grip on his weapon, his gaze darting across the hall, searching for any sign of movement. But the room was eerily empty.


    Then—


    A flicker of motion at his side.


    Julian barely had time to turn his head before a searing pain tore through his arm. His sword spiraled into the air, severed from his grasp—along with half of his right arm.


    Agony crashed over him like a tidal wave. His vision blurred as he bit back a scream, managing only strangled whimpers. Blood splattered onto the marble floor, pooling beneath him.


    Hope, calm as ever, sheathed his sword. He raised his palm, fire intent crackling to life, the flames twisting hungrily around his fingers.


    Julian’s breath hitched.


    Then Hope grabbed the stump.


    A raw, inhuman scream tore from Julian’s throat as the fire seared his wound shut. The pain was unbearable—far worse than losing the limb itself. The hall echoed with his tortured cries as his body convulsed from the sheer intensity.


    By the time the wound had closed, Julian lay sprawled on the floor, his body drenched in sweat. His chest heaved, his willpower shattered. At that moment, death seemed preferable to the torment he had just endured.


    Hope gazed down at him, his expression unreadable. "Are you ready to talk now?"


    Julian trembled, his lips moving soundlessly. His mind teetered on the edge of collapse.


    With a quiet sigh, Hope extended his hand, channeling life intent into Julian’s broken body. Warmth surged through the city lord, the pain dulling as his injuries partially healed—though his arm remained severed.


    Julian barely clung to consciousness, his vision swimming as he forced his gaze upward. His breath was ragged, his body trembling from pain and exhaustion. "W-why?" he croaked.


    A cold, merciless voice answered.


    "From now on, your mouth will only open to answer my questions. If you dare to speak out of turn again, I''ll take your other arm."


    Hope’s sharp gaze bore into him, and Julian knew the threat was no bluff. Swallowing his fear, he gave a weak nod.


    Hope’s expression remained impassive. "Do you not know who killed your daughter, or are you simply unable to find them?"


    Sweat dripped from Julian’s brow as he forced the words out. "I... don’t know who killed her."


    Hope’s mind stuttered.


    ‘What? I killed her right in front of him. How could he not know?’


    His fingers curled slightly as he took a deep breath, reining in his thoughts. "You were there when she died. How can you not know?"


    Julian hesitated, then spoke, his voice hoarse. "I was there... but I don’t remember who attacked her."


    A pause.


    Then, gathering what little courage he had left, Julian met Hope’s eyes and asked, "How do you know I was there?"


    But Hope wasn’t listening. He was too stunned by the answer he had received.


    ‘Impossible.’


    His mind raced. Julian showed no signs of memory loss, nor did he seem to be repressing the event out of grief. A father—no, a city lord—should have burned the murderer’s image into his soul, swearing vengeance every waking moment.


    And yet—


    ‘He doesn’t even remember me?’


    Absurd.


    Hope’s expression darkened, his tone leaving no room for defiance.


    "Tell me how your daughter died."