Kazuo stood still, holding his palm out as he stared at the flickering dark-gold glow hovering above it. There was a mix of wonder and unease in his expression. It wasn't much—just a shaky, unstable little flame—but it was real. Finally, after all his efforts, his latent occult energy had responded. He had done it. He'd summoned it, even if his control over it was still far from steady.
"Not bad for a first attempt," Yoshinori Miyahara remarked with a smirk, his arms crossed casually. "But don't get cocky. You barely scratched the surface. That energy wavers because your mind is still restless. Tonight, we'll wrap up this phase of training. If you're serious about mastering it, you'll need to commit—fully."
Still catching his breath, Kazuo nodded, exhilarated but drained. Then his gaze flicked to the old wall clock hanging nearby, and reality hit him like a thunderbolt.
"What?! Seven o'clock?!" he gasped, his eyes wide in panic.
