As Rex’s car disappeared down the street, the city lights reflecting off its tinted windows, Luna stood still in front of the store, fists clenched at her sides, her breath still uneven. Her brows were furrowed—not in anger, but frustration.
She had seen the painting.
She had seen him.
And now he was gone.
She closed her eyes for a second, replaying the mont when the painting revealed its final stroke. The rawness, the depth, the pain, the peace—it was unlike anything she’d ever seen. The brushstrokes were chaotic yet deliberate, like emotions pouring directly from soul to canvas.
It stirred sothing inside her. Sothing deep and forgotten.
But now he was gone.
"Damn it," she whispered.
The store owner gave her a curious glance. "You know him?"
"No," she muttered. "But I want to."
He raised a brow. "Hmph. You’re not the only one. That crowd looked ready to carve him into a shrine."
She gave him a side glance but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned on her heel and strode away, pulling out her phone.
Luna:Master, I need a favor. Urgently.
A mont later, a reply popped up.
Master:Ohho~ What does my dear disciple need help with?
Luna: Master, I need you to help find a person.>_
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