Chapter 4

CROCUS never felt like a headquarters.

It was closer to an oversized, restless home...

a place where people came and went, where laughter blended with voices, where the bitter scent of coffee mixed with raw tobacco, and serious discussions could turn into jokes in a single breath.

Behind the main warehouse, several wooden crates stood open. Tobacco leaves were dried the old-fashioned way, watched over by people who knew each other’s names, habits, even each other’s pasts. There were no matching uniforms. No faces that felt unfamiliar.

Different skin tones. Different accents. One thing in common: they knew who they stood for.

Nara stood near the iron fence, quietly observing everything. She gave no orders and took no notes. She simply watched—a habit that allowed her to know more than people realized.

“If AURA saw this,” Frost said beside her, “they’d call it chaos.”

“They should stay longer,” Nara replied. “Then they’d see this isn’t chaos. It’s team trust.”

Frost smiled faintly. His jacket hung open, the dark shirt beneath making him look more like a field operative than a minister. In CROCUS, rank never looked like rank. There were only roles.

“What about Pot? Any news?” Nara asked.

“Still silent,” Frost answered briefly. “I’ll keep trying him.”

Their gazes lingered a little longer than necessary. There was no promise. No definition. Their connection lived in a gray zone—close enough to understand each other, free enough not to bind each other. And… no one knew about it.

Not far away, Bana stood among his inner circle. His tall frame towered over the others, forcing anyone too close to tilt their head upward. Yet his voice remained low, never raised.

“We shift distribution tonight,” he said.

Ninja Master crossed his arms. “If we tighten the eastern route, collision risk goes up, Brother.”

“And if we loosen the western route,” Haeinholic added lightly, “we can rotate crews without stirring noise.”

Revival scratched the back of his neck, staring at the upside-down map in his hand.

“So… which one’s west? This one or this one?”

A few people chuckled.

“It’s upside down, Bro,” Nara said as she stepped closer. “You’re holding it backward.”

“Oh.” Revival flipped the map. “No wonder it felt weird.” They laughed, without ridicule. In CROCUS, small mistakes were never punishable—only shared entertainment.

Lumina stood beside Nara, their shoulders almost touching.

“Sister, look… if the northern route gets pressured,” Lumina said, “we’ll lose our inside people.”

Bana glanced at her—at his daughter. A brief flicker of surprise crossed his face. Then pride.

“Good,” he said. “You’re seeing further ahead.”

Lumina didn’t smile proudly. She simply nodded.

Tonnie stood slightly apart, listening without interrupting. Kathy studied the map with calm eyes, like someone who had seen the same pattern repeat itself many times in life.

Nara turned to Bana.

“You’re letting them think it through on purpose?”

“I’m waiting for questions,” Bana replied. “If I explain everything, they’ll just obey. But if they think, they’ll endure.”

Nara snorted softly. “Arrogant old man.”

Bana glanced at her. “I am old. And arrogance is an obligation.”

Revival laughed quietly. “Then I want to be arrogant too.”

Nara nudged his arm. “Don’t be arrogant, Bro… or there’ll be no coffee tomorrow.”

“Hehe… then make me a cup now, please?” Revival said with a grin. “You’re a good little sister.”

In CROCUS, Nara was not merely part of the structure. She was like a sister among them.

So was Lumina. They were not children to be sheltered, nor outsiders to be tested.

They were family, learning how to survive together.

The main door opened slowly. A woman stepped into the CROCUS office with elegant strides.

“Hello, everyone! How are you? I hope you’re all staying energized,” Snow said, arriving with Melmel, her assistant.

All eyes turned to her. Snow was like a magnet—mood shifter, engine driver, and a new leader whose warm greeting could command the room… perhaps even the whole city.

“Is that… Snow?” Lumina whispered near Nara.

Nara did not answer immediately.

“She’s… very beautiful,” she murmured, still staring.

“All right,” Snow said with a smile, “I see you’re working quickly and cheerfully today. And maybe this will add to your happiness.”

She signaled Melmel. The projector lit up, displaying an invitation to the presidential banquet for all alliances in the city.

“The President has invited alliances with aggression level ten to attend tonight,” Snow announced proudly. “Including us.”

The room instantly filled with smiles and whispers.

The main door opened again.

“…A party?”

A woman stepped inside, her presence immediately cutting through the noise.

All eyes turned toward her.

She is Huo.