The moment Damon stepped past the entrance, the atmosphere changed completely, the lively noise from outside giving way to a space that felt worn and fragile beneath its surface energy, the orphanage interior revealing cracked walls patched over with uneven plaster, wooden beams that had aged far beyond their intended years, and furniture that looked as though it had been repaired countless times just to remain usable.

Despite that—

Life filled the place.

Children ran through the narrow corridors and open hall, their voices echoing as they chased one another, some laughing loudly, others arguing over trivial things, while a few sat in corners playing with whatever they could find, their clothes simple and worn, yet their expressions bright with unfiltered emotion.

Damon stood just inside the entrance, his posture still, his gaze sweeping across the scene as he took it all in, the white sphere hovering quietly beside him, its faint glow almost out of place in such a grounded environment.

"Let’s go," the Dean’s voice came from the sphere.

Damon let out a quiet sigh before stepping forward, his pace slow and deliberate as he moved further inside, the faint creak of the wooden floor accompanying each step.

One by one—

The children noticed.

Their movements slowed.

Then stopped.

Small heads turned toward him, curious eyes following both Damon and the floating white sphere, whispers beginning to spread among them as they observed the unfamiliar presence.

"Who is that...?"

"Is he a noble...?"

"Look at that thing floating..."

The murmurs lingered as Damon walked past them, neither acknowledging nor reacting, his attention shifting toward the side of the hall where the sound of water could be heard.

There—

A young man stood near a washing area, his clothes simple and slightly disheveled, his sleeves rolled up as he washed a stack of plates with quiet focus, his movements repetitive, practiced, as though this was something he did every day without fail.

The white sphere hovered slightly closer.

"Go and tell him," the Dean’s voice instructed calmly, "that you want to volunteer here."

Damon turned his head slightly toward the sphere, raising a finger to point at himself, his expression carrying a silent question.

Me?

"Just go," the Dean replied without hesitation.

Damon exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting back toward the young man as he prepared to move.

Damon let out a quiet breath before stepping forward, his gaze settling on the young man by the washing area as he approached at an unhurried pace, his mind drifting for a moment.

Shouldn’t she be the one doing this...? Like she did at the old age home...

The thought lingered briefly before fading as he came to a stop a few steps away.

"Hey," Damon said.

The reaction was immediate.

The young man flinched sharply, his entire body tensing as he turned around, water droplets flicking from his hands as his posture shifted in an instant, his stance guarded and defensive, as though he had been expecting trouble rather than a greeting.

He had dark, unkempt hair that fell slightly over his forehead, sharp dark eyes that locked onto Damon with wary intensity, and faint scars—one across his cheek and another near his jaw—that hinted at a rough past, while his body naturally settled into an amateur fighting stance, unrefined yet instinctive.

Damon observed him without reacting, his expression calm, almost indifferent as his mind assessed him in a single glance.

I could fold him over without moving more than three inches.

"I want to volunteer here," Damon said simply.

The tension broke instantly.

The fierce expression on the young man’s face melted into pure confusion as he blinked once, then twice.

"Heh?"

A smile began to form.

Slow at first.

Then wider.

Before it suddenly faltered, as if he had caught himself.

"A-are you sure?" he asked, uncertainty slipping into his voice.

...So much for lowering the guard, Damon thought quietly.

He gave a small nod.

"If you don’t need me—"

Before he could finish, the young man’s expression lit up completely, his earlier caution vanishing as his eyes curved into crescent shapes, a bright, almost disbelieving smile breaking across his face as he stepped forward and grabbed Damon’s hand.

"O-of course! You are welcome!" he said quickly, his voice filled with genuine relief and excitement.

Damon glanced down at their joined hands.

The young man seemed to realize it a second later, quickly pulling his hand back and wiping it against his clothes in a slightly embarrassed motion, only to grab Damon’s hand again immediately after, as if afraid the offer might disappear if he didn’t hold onto it.

Damon removed his hand himself this time, his expression unchanged as he looked at him and asked calmly.

"So... what do I have to do?"

The young man blinked once at Damon’s question, as if the answer were obvious, before replying in a straightforward tone, "Oh... you just have to spend some time with the children here."

For the first time, Damon’s expression shifted ever so slightly.

"Heh..."

Now it was his turn.

The young man scratched the back of his neck, his earlier enthusiasm softening into something more awkward as he tried to explain.

"The children here... they haven’t really spent much time with people from outside," he said, glancing briefly toward the courtyard where faint laughter still echoed, "but children are curious, you know... about the world beyond this place... so it would be nice if you could just spend some time with them."

Then, almost as if remembering something important, his expression stiffened as he tried to put on a tougher front, straightening his posture slightly as he added, "But don’t even think of harming them."

Damon let out a quiet sigh, his gaze drifting for a moment before returning.

"...Can’t I just do some other menial task—"

"Ha—no, no, I’ll do that," the young man cut in quickly, waving his hands as if dismissing the idea entirely, "you... just... spend time with the children... maybe play a game... or tell a story..."

Damon remained silent for a brief second before nodding lightly, clearly not interested in arguing further.

"...Fine."

The young man’s smile returned immediately, brighter than before, relief evident in his expression as he gestured eagerly.

"Come, come... I’ll introduce you to them."

Damon followed him without resistance as they walked back toward the courtyard, where the earlier liveliness had settled into a more cautious curiosity, the children still lingering in small groups as they watched from a distance.

The young man clapped his hands together, the sound echoing just enough to gather their attention.

"All of you seem so energetic today," he said with a light laugh, "now look what we have here... I brought a new friend for you guys... he’ll play with you and tell you stories today."

The children didn’t rush forward.

Instead, they remained where they were, stealing glances at Damon, whispering among themselves, unsure yet intrigued.

After a moment, a small girl stepped forward just slightly, her face smudged with soil, her eyes hesitant yet curious as she looked at the young man.

"W-what’s his name?" she asked.

The young man paused, then let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his head again as he turned toward Damon.

"Ah... that’s right... I forgot to ask," he said sheepishly, "what is your name?"

Damon looked at him.

Then at the children.

For a brief moment, something flickered in his gaze—

Before he spoke.

"...Da—Alexander," he corrected smoothly, "you can just call me Alex."

The young man repeated it with a bright smile, as if confirming it for everyone.

"Alex..."

Just as the young man finished speaking, Damon’s gaze shifted subtly as he looked around, searching almost instinctively for the familiar white sphere, only to find that it had already disappeared without a trace, prompting a quiet thought to pass through his mind.

...Always disappearing.

"Just look after them... I’ll be at the back," the young man said, gesturing casually before turning and walking away, leaving Damon standing alone in the courtyard surrounded by a group of children who were still hesitant, their curiosity evident but held back by uncertainty.

For a few moments, no one spoke.

Damon stood there.

Still.

Completely out of place.

...What am I supposed to do here?

Then—

One of the boys stepped forward slowly.

He looked down at the ground, then up at Damon, clearly gathering courage as he opened his mouth to speak.

"You—"

He stopped.

Glanced around.

Took a breath.

Then squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out loudly, "How can I become handsome like you?!"

A brief silence followed.

"Hahahahahah!"

Then laughter erupted around him as the other children reacted, some pointing, some giggling, the tension in the air breaking instantly.

Before Damon could even process it—

Another boy stepped forward.

A bit more confident.

"How can I become handsome like you?" he asked again.

The laughter didn’t disappear, but it softened slightly this time, turning into amused murmurs.

Then the third and the fourth..

"How can I become handsome like you?"

As the first boy immediately turned toward him.

"Hey! Why are you copying me? I was the first!" he protested, puffing up slightly.

But it didn’t stop there.

A fifth boy stepped forward, looking up at Damon with the same earnest curiosity.

"How can I become handsome like you?"

This time—There was no laughter.

Only expectation.

Multiple pairs of eyes looked at him.

Waiting.

Damon stood there silenly.

His mind, which could analyze combat, strategies, and people with precision, suddenly found itself... blank.

...What am I even supposed to say?

A faint thought surfaced.

...Maybe... you’re just born like this?

But even he knew that saying it out loud would only make things worse.

So he remained there awkwardly.

Uncharacteristically so.

Until—

A voice cut through the moment.

Firm and sharp.

An older boy stepped forward from behind the group, his posture straight, his gaze steady as he looked at Damon with clear caution.

"All of you... stay away from him."