"Remember this-if you ever dare touch that damn piano again to lure my people, it won''t just be your hand that gets ruined. Stay the hell away from what''s mine!"


    "You... it was you who-ah!"


    His hand was crushed mercilessly, cutting off his protest with a strangled cry.


    Lysander looked down at the man writhing in pain at his feet, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. His fox-like eyes, however, remained utterly emotionless. Without another nce, he turned and walked away.


    Leonard followed in silence.


    Once they were in the car, Lysander dialed a video call. The screen flickered to life, revealing a gaunt, pale-faced man in a white coat.


    It was Professor Mason, the renowned psychiatrist.


    Professor Mason studied Lysander''s face for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "Mr. Montgomery, don''t tell me you''re having second thoughts."


    Lysander shot him a frosty nce.


    When he didn''t reply, Professor Mason went on, "First, you have to break her spiritpletely. Drive her to the brink—let her hit rock bottom. Only then can you rebuild her, reshape who she is. If you do it right, you can keep most of her


    memories intact. It''s the most effective approach there is. Endure this phase, and you''ll get exactly what you want."


    Lysander stared out the window, his face inscrutable, voice t. "She broke downst night."


    "Not enough."


    "Have you ever actually seeded?" Lysander asked abruptly.


    A smile flickered across Professor Mason''s lips. "I have."


    But after a moment, his expression shifted-just a fleeting trace of sorrow, making him seem even paler. Then it vanished, reced by his usual mild smile.


    "But in the end, I lost everything because I couldn''t stay cold enough."


    He added quietly, "Mr. Montgomery, let me remind you—this method is hardest not on the patient, but on the doctor. The moment you go soft, you lose it all."


    "So are you sure this is what you want?"


    Lysander was silent for a long moment. Atst, he stared coldly at the man''s mocking smile on the screen and said, expressionless, "I''m not you. Continue."


    He hung up.


    ***


    The warehouse was almost pitch-ck.


    Forresty huddled on the filthy floor, his body limp and trembling, unable to hold back the agonized screams. His hand throbbed with excruciating pain, every breath a battle. Still, he forced himself to fumble for his phone.


    Even the simplest movement was torture.


    Several times, the phone slipped from his grasp, ttering to the ground, slick with blood from his fingertips.


    Atst, he managed to unlock it, his hand shaking so violently that red fingerprints smeared across the screen as he tapped out an emergency call.


    The line connected.


    Forrest gasped for breath, choking on the pain as he recited his address and tried to exin what had happened. By the end, tears streamed uncontrobly down his face.


    "Please, you have to hurry!"


    "My hand-I can''t lose it, I can''t, I just can''t... I haven''t-I haven''t told her yet... I haven''t saved-"


    His mind began to blur, anxiety flooding his senses and fighting off unconsciousness. He kept whispering desperate pleas.


    Lysander was so ruthless-what would happen to Mimi now?


    Was she scared? Was she crying? Was she calling for help?


    No, he couldn''t let anything happen to himself. He couldn''t—not yet. He hadn''t


    told her yet..... that he loved her, wanted to spend a lifetime ying piano for her... so much he hadn''t said.


    "Mimi..."


    His thoughts grew fuzzy, but he kept repeating her name, forcing himself to stay awake.


    If he closed his eyes, he''d never see her again.


    Never see that wild, fearless girl from his youth, the one who''d crashed straight into his life, filling it withughter and chaos.


    He couldn''t let go not yet.


    ***


    "Who''s crying?"


    "Who''s crying? Stop it! Stop crying!"


    The wailing grew louder and louder in M''s mind, pounding against her skull until the pain became unbearable. She jolted upright with a scream, her world lurching beneath her.


    It took a moment for her vision to clear, for her to realize she was draped over the broad back of a huge ox, swaying with each step. Ahead, a few more oxen plodded along, and at the front of the procession walked a man dressed in rustic mountain gear.


    "M, why are you crying?"


    Still dazed and confused, M turned her head in shock at the sound of Archie''s incredulous voice beside her. In Archie''s bright, clear eyes, she saw her own face -streaked with tears.


    Why was she crying?