?Chapter 381:


    As Christina raised her head, her gaze collided with Dn’s—cool and calcting, his expression unreadable but clearly mistrustful. Did he think she was entangled with the very organization responsible for the ambush?


    The disguised Christina and Dn locked eyes for a moment before he started advancing toward her. “Thanks for earlier,” he said tly, his tone cool and detached.


    Dn’s sharp eyes subtly assessed the young “man” standing across from him, face obscured by an intimidating mask. It was unmistakably a “man.” Yet, something about this “man” kept nudging his memory of Christina. The height matched Christina’s, and the eyes mirrored a familiar intensity. But the person before him was definitely a “man.” His Adam’s apple was distinct, and his demeanor didn’t quite match Christina’s.


    “It’s nothing,” Christina responded, her voice altered by the voice changer, sounding even and unbothered.


    Dn’s brow creased at the masculine voice. He stepped closer, catching a trace of perfume—refined and hauntingly familiar. It bore a resemnce to Christina’s signature scent, though not identical—fainter, more woodsy. Was his mind ying tricks? There was no usible reason to think Christina stood before him in disguise.


    But then came a memory—Christina’s discreet identity as Skybreaker—and instinct took over. Dn reached forward, aiming to remove the eerie mask. But Christina reacted in a blink. As his fingers moved, her grip mped onto his wrist—swift, exact, unhesitating. “You’re crossing a line,” she snapped, her wordsced with warning.


    Dn’s face stayed unreadable as his eyes dropped to the hand gripping his wrist. Even this hand bore a resemnce to Christina’s. But while Christina’s hands were smooth and unblemished, this “man” bore a faint mark just beneath the thumb.


    Dn narrowed his eyes. The scar looked authentic—too precise to be artificial. What he didn’t realize was how masterful Christina had be at disguises. Her crafted scars were nearly wless, down to the finest imperfection.


    “What do you think you’re doing?” Robin barked from nearby, stepping forward with a re.


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    “Just curious,” Dn replied calmly, keeping his stare locked on the disguised Christina. “You resemble someone I once knew.”


    “Lookalikes aren’t exactly rare,” Christina countered with a steady tone.


    “I suppose not,” Dn said coolly.


    She let go of his wrist slowly. “Next time, keep your hands to yourself.”


    Dn didn’t answer. His stare lingered, expression unreadable. A strange tension brewed in his chest—unsettling and inexplicable. Why did this “man” trigger such a sharp déjà vu? Why did Christina’s image keep surfacing in his mind when he looked at this “man”? It made little logical sense. The simrities existed, sure—but the differences, especially the gender, were just as obvious. And yet, the feeling lingered, gnawing at him like smoke.


    Robin noted Dn’s intense scrutiny of the disguised Christina, who appeared to be a young man to him. A bold notion hit like a hammer, and his eyes widened. He swiftly stepped between them, creating a firm barrier with his body.


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