This F-Rank Bubble Mage Is Too OP!-Chapter 94: Warning

River's breathing remained controlled despite the steady drain on his mana reserves. The invisible coating around his body flickered more frequently now, the bubble film struggling to maintain its perfect camouflage as his MP approached dangerous levels. He could feel it—that familiar warning sensation when his energy reserves hit the critical threshold.

Ten percent left, he calculated silently, watching the subtle tremor in his hands as the invisibility wavered. Maybe less.

Melody remained on the sofa, her fingers still clenched together, lost in her own thoughts about the impossible choice before her. The morning light streaming through the curtains painted golden streaks across her silver-brown hair, and for a moment, River found himself studying the way worry had carved lines around her eyes—lines that no amount of stage makeup could truly hide.

Now or never.

With a soft exhale, River allowed the bubble film to dissolve completely. The shimmer around his body faded like morning mist, and suddenly he was there—solid, real, and undeniably present in a room where he had no business being.

Melody's head snapped up instantly, her eyes widening as they locked onto his figure by the door. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then her lips parted, drawing breath for what would undoubtedly be a piercing scream that would bring security, Michelle, and half the building running.

River's hand moved with practiced precision. A translucent bubble materialized around Melody's head before the first note of her scream could escape, creating a perfect sound barrier that trapped the cry within its curved walls. Her voice became nothing more than a muffled vibration, her expression shifting from shock to pure terror as she realized she couldn't make a sound.

They stared at each other across the elegant lounge—he standing calm and still by the door, she trapped in sudden, suffocating silence on the sofa. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, panic flooding her features as she clawed at the invisible barrier around her head. The bubble held firm, neither restricting her breathing nor causing harm, but effectively silencing her completely.

River slowly raised one hand to his lips, the universal gesture for quiet, then made a gentle calming motion with his other hand. His dark eyes held hers steadily, not with menace, but with something closer to understanding. Easy, his expression seemed to say. I'm not here to hurt you.

Melody's silver-brown hair fell around her shoulders as she nodded frantically, her eyes never leaving his face. Whether from desperation or some instinct that told her compliance was her only option, she managed to still her panicked movements.

River dissolved the bubble with a subtle gesture.

The moment sound returned to her world, Melody sucked in a sharp breath—but instead of screaming, she launched herself toward the nearest end table. Her fingers closed around a crystal paperweight, and without hesitation, she hurled it directly at River's head.

River sighed, a sound of genuine weariness rather than annoyance. The paperweight froze mid-flight as another bubble formed around it, suspending the crystal in a perfect sphere of translucent energy. It bobbed gently in the air between them like a trapped star.

Melody didn't pause. A ceramic vase followed the paperweight, then a small brass clock from the mantelpiece, then decorative bookends from the shelf behind the sofa. Each projectile met the same fate—captured in its own individual bubble, floating harmlessly in the air around the room. River stood perfectly still throughout the barrage, his expression unchanged, his hands moving with minimal effort to create each protective sphere.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked quietly as Melody reached for a throw pillow, apparently having run out of harder objects.

She froze with the pillow clutched against her chest, suddenly aware of how the room now looked. Nearly a dozen bubbles drifted through the air at various heights, each containing something she had thrown at him. They caught the morning light like soap bubbles, casting prismatic reflections across the walls and ceiling. The effect was almost beautiful—if not for the circumstances.

Melody's breathing slowed as she took in the scene. This stranger—this intruder—had not moved from his position by the door. He hadn't advanced on her, hadn't made any threatening gestures, hadn't even raised his voice despite her assault. He had simply... defended himself. Passively. Almost gently.

She lowered the pillow slowly, her guard still raised but confusion now mixing with her fear. Her eyes darted between his face and the floating bubbles around them, trying to process what kind of person would break into her private lounge only to stand there and let her throw things at him.

"Who..." she began, her voice hoarse from the scream that had been trapped in his bubble. "Who are you? What do you want?"

River remained motionless, studying her with those dark, unreadable eyes. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, of familiarity that seemed impossible given they had never met. When he spoke, his voice carried an weight that went beyond mere confidence.

"Someone who overheard your conversation with Michelle," he said, though his tone suggested he knew far more than just what he'd heard through the walls. "Someone who knows exactly what kind of man Nolan really is... and what he's capable of."

Melody's breath caught. The pillow slipped from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. "You were... listening?"

"The walls here aren't as thick as you might think," River replied, but his eyes held hers with an intensity that made her feel exposed, as if he could see straight through to her soul. "But that's not why I'm here, Melody."

The way he said her name—with a quiet familiarity that no stranger should possess—sent a chill down her spine.

"If you're here to—" she began, her voice rising with renewed fear.

"I'm here because you need to leave Voulton City," River interrupted, his tone suddenly urgent. "Within the next few days. And you cannot tell anyone about this conversation—not Michelle, not your manager, not anyone."

Melody stared at him, confusion replacing some of her fear. "Leave? Why would I—"

"Because what's coming is worse than Nolan," River said quietly, and for a moment, something that looked almost like pain flickered across his features. "Much worse. The bodyguard offer—that's just a way for me to stay close enough to help you when the time comes."

She pressed herself further against the sofa, her mind reeling. "What are you talking about? What's coming?"

River was silent for a long moment, watching the play of emotions across her face. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to tell her. In his timeline, by now she would have already... but no. That hadn't happened yet. She was still just Melody the singer, unaware of what lay dormant within her.

"The future is more dangerous than you can imagine," he said finally, his voice carrying a weight of certainty that was impossible to dismiss. "And whether you believe me or not, we will meet again very soon. When we do... you'll understand everything."

Melody stared at him, her mind racing. The floating bubbles drifted lazily around them, casting prismatic light across the room, but now they seemed less like defensive measures and more like a glimpse into something beyond her comprehension.

"You're a Hunter," she said, the words carrying a weight of resignation and fresh fear.

River nodded once, though his expression was complex—as if the title carried burdens she couldn't yet understand. "I am."

"Then you're no different from the others." Her voice hardened, though uncertainty crept in as she tried to reconcile his strange words with his actions. "You want something. Money, fame, access to my world. Or maybe you're working for Nolan himself."

For the first time since revealing himself, River's expression shifted—not annoyance, but something that looked almost like regret. When he spoke, his voice was softer, tinged with an emotion she couldn't place.

"In another time, another place," he said quietly, "you knew better than to think that."

The cryptic words hung in the air between them. Melody felt her breath catch, not from fear this time, but from the inexplicable sense that she was missing something crucial, something that danced just beyond her understanding.

River watched her process his words, seeing the moment when confusion began to outweigh terror. Good. She was stronger than she knew—stronger than she would know, until the moment arrived to awaken what lay sleeping within her. But he also saw the desperate hope flickering in her eyes, the hope of someone drowning who had just been thrown a rope, even if she couldn't understand why it had appeared.

With a subtle gesture, River dissolved all the floating bubbles at once. The captured objects—paperweights, vases, clocks—settled gently onto the carpet with barely a sound, as if they had been lowered by invisible hands.

"Remember what I said," he told her, his voice carrying a finality that made her chest tighten. "Leave the city. Trust no one with this conversation. And when we meet again..." He paused, something almost like sadness crossing his features. "Try to remember that not all Hunters are your enemy."

Before Melody could respond, before she could demand more answers or beg him to explain, River's form began to shimmer. The bubble film coated his skin once more, bending light around him until he became nothing more than a distortion in the air, then disappeared entirely.

Melody sat alone in the suddenly empty lounge, surrounded by the scattered objects she had thrown, her heart hammering against her ribs. The morning light still streamed through the curtains, the flowers still bloomed in their crystal vases, but everything felt different—charged with possibility and dread in equal measure.

What just happened?