They entered Earth.

The feeling was surreal, and this time, not only for Noah, but for all of them. None among them had ever seen a world that looked like Earth before.

They stood weightless, high in the blue sky, their powers sealed yet still vast enough to keep them suspended effortlessly. They used the light around them to mask their presence, as Noah had warned them that this world had its own ways of detecting what shouldn't exist.

So they stood there, watching.

They watched the endless bodies of water glinting beneath the sunlight, the sprawling continents, the deserts, the seven wonders, the skyscrapers piercing the heavens, the airplanes gliding past them, and the bustling streets below filled with cars of every shape and color.

They watched the humans — so weak, so pitiful — their eyes glued to glowing devices in their hands, many wearing earphones of all kinds, lost in their tiny private worlds.

Their clothes, too, were fascinatingly diverse.

Noah's gaze drifted toward a continent — Africa — more precisely, the western part. There, his eyes softened as he saw the traditional garments of a people called the Senegalese, their dark ebony skin glimmering proudly beneath the golden sun.

Handsome men and beautiful women. Doubtless.

He looked elsewhere, at the Arabian Peninsula, admiring their elegance and tradition, then toward India, marveling at their diversity, and then toward Palestine, quietly taking note of their piety.

And on, and on, and on…

He absorbed it all, imprinting every image into his soul, feeling something within him stir…his very essence shrieking with joy. It was his first time truly seeing how beautiful his world was.

But seeing its beauty also meant seeing its ugliness.

And there were many of those, too.

But for now, he ignored them.

He wasn't here for that, not today. He was here to look, to feel… and to find someone. Not one person, actually…but two.

"Incredible," Aurelia whispered, her gaze fixed upon the United Kingdom. "Can I go, youngest? I'll do nothing but read, I swear." Her voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"As for me…" Asaemon smirked, his crimson hair glinting faintly as his eyes swept over Africa. "I'm curious about these people."

Virgo, meanwhile, was gazing at Italy, her tone dreamlike. "Ah, this one seems made for me. I can already sense so many sweet things there."

Noah watched each of them and smiled faintly. "Please, don't do anything that could cause problems. Lower your beauty, make it… normal. You too, Virgo, change your skin color. Make it white, yellow, brown, dark, whatever you like but not red. You'll kill people by heart attack."

Virgo's lips twitched.

"Lower our beauty? How much?" Asaemon asked, his dangerously handsome face shining with arrogant amusement, crimson hair and black eyes making him look divine.

Noah tilted his head, then snapped his fingers, conjuring two images…one of Damson Idris for Asaemon, and one of Angelina Jolie for the girls.

"Make it slightly less than these," he said.

They nodded, lowering their beauty and altering their skin, eye, and hair colors to match those of humans on Earth and then disappeared completely, each heading toward their chosen destinations.

Noah remained alone in the sky, his faint smile unmoving.

He wondered what form he should take but in truth, he didn't even need to think about it.

He assumed the appearance of Brandon, an average man with simple black hair and dark eyes, around six feet tall, lean-bodied, the kind of build one got from small, laboring jobs and quiet days.

He took a deep breath, his mind expanding, scanning across the entire planet until it found the one he sought.

Finding her, he smiled faintly.

And then, he vanished from the sky.

…

Earth — France, Paris

Night came.

The sun sunk back into sleep, and the moon rose slowly above the horizon, bathing the world in its silvery luster.

The city of Paris was alive, buzzing with movement beneath the glow of street lamps that painted the rocky ground gold. Cars and people flooded the avenues, laughter and conversation blending with the hum of engines and the rhythm of footsteps. You could see every kind of face, every kind of skin tone, every kind of style.

In the distance stood the towering figure of the Eiffel Tower, shining like a beacon of light for the lovers scattered across the city.

And at the very heart of Paris, inside a bustling bar filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses, a woman sat alone in the corner, her hand resting on a half-empty glass of red wine.

She was beautiful. Strikingly so.

Her dress was tight and sleek, covered in faintly shimmering pearls that reached her knees. Jewelry glimmered at her neck, on her fingers, and around her wrists. Her eyes were chocolate brown, matching her hair perfectly.

She wore makeup that highlighted her natural allure, sharpening the edge of her sensuality until it was almost dangerous.

Her body was the kind that turned heads, effortlessly, every curve in its rightful place.

Men stole glances at her from every corner of the bar, but none dared to approach. There was something in her posture, in her aura that showed her sinking mood.

"Another one…" Emmie muttered under her breath, "…another fucking cheater."

She cursed softly, lifted her glass, and drank.

She didn't understand. With her looks, her charm, her body…how could any man cheat on her? Why would they?

She gave everything. Every time.

So why?

She shook her head wearily, tired to her bones. 'Since him… since him, I've never met a loyal man.' The thought burned quietly in her chest.

Then, suddenly, she felt a presence beside her.

She cast a lazy glance to her right, a man had taken the seat next to hers. He was holding a menu in one hand, face partially hidden behind strands of long black hair. He wore a silver suit that looked both simple and expensive.

A Rolex gleamed on his wrist, the latest model, and a diamond ring caught the bar's dim light from his middle finger.

A wealthy man, or someone pretending to be one. Either way, she wasn't in the mood tonight.

So she turned back toward her glass, sinking deeper into the haze of her wine.

But then…

"A matter of heart?" the man asked.

His voice was magnetic, a sound that wrapped around her like silk. Something in it made Emmie sober slightly, her instinct telling her to answer.

She chewed on her words for a moment before sighing softly. "Why would you think that?" she asked, deciding to indulge both him and herself. Anything to forget that cheating bastard.

The man, Noah, chuckled quietly. "Aren't we in the city of love? I was just testing my luck." He smiled faintly. "But it seems I was right."

Emmie gave a tired little nod. "You are," she admitted.

"Want to talk about it?" Noah asked, still studying the menu, his face hidden beneath the gentle fall of his dark hair. "They say confessing to a stranger is easier than to someone you know. Strangers are less likely to judge."

"What do you want to hear?" she chuckled dryly. "That I've been cheated on? Please. That's something you hear every other day now."

"Even a beautiful woman like you?"

Emmie laughed, the sound low and tired. "Nice try, gentleman. But yes, even me. Shocking, isn't it?"

Noah didn't look up. "Indeed, shocking," he said softly. "I would have believed that whoever held your heart would do everything in their power to keep it."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because I would have done the same," he answered curtly.

Emmie smiled. In that moment, she almost forgot her cheating ex. Speaking with this man was… oddly satisfying.

She couldn't help herself, she wanted to keep talking. And talk, she did.

"Would you treat me right if you had someone like me?" she asked, her voice more animated now, tinged with curiosity and a faint hope she didn't expect to feel.

Seeing her smile, the men around them cursed silently at Noah.

"I mean, yes," Noah replied, his tone calm, assured. "Not doing that would be a kind of idiotic thing to do. Not just with a woman, but with anyone. If you're in a relationship with someone, the least you can do is treat them right. And if you can't…" he paused, eyes flicking briefly toward her, "then why bother being with them at all?"

Noah's words hit something deep within Emmie, stirring a memory, a flash of her younger self, naïve and bright-eyed.

But his voice drew her back. "So tell me, beautiful lady," he said smoothly, "did you treat everyone you've been with the right way? Because if not… I'm sorry, but I don't think you have the right to complain."

Emmie went silent for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching before she laughed softly. "Ah… well… there was one man I didn't."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Emmie nodded, then exhaled as if releasing a burden. "I was younger. We both were. I was a woman in need, wanting someone to take care of me. I wanted what my friends had…someone who'd buy me gifts, take me shopping, invite me to fancy places."

She smiled faintly, almost mockingly at herself. Noah didn't interrupt, he simply listened.

She was spilling everything, everything she'd buried for years, to this stranger.

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was the ache that needed release.

But she did. She needed it.

"I wanted all of that… but I couldn't have it with him. He was young, an orphan, even. He couldn't give me what I wanted. But still, I liked him. I liked his grit, his determination, the way he worked small jobs here and there just to get by."

"And even though he didn't have much, sometimes he'd buy me a burger," she said, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "And every time, I could see him already planning how to work extra hours to earn that money back. He…"

Her voice faltered. "…he loved me."

Emmie knew. She had always known that Brandon loved her.

She knew it…all of it. But still…

"One day, my friends introduced me to a man, a wealthy man who had everything a man could want, and everything I thought I wanted. I resisted at first, tried to stay loyal to my boyfriend, but…"

She gulped slowly.

"…I failed."

"My friends succeeded in persuading me. At first, it was just a few harmless dates… then he started giving me gifts, showering me with everything I'd dreamed of as a woman."

"And I guess you succumbed to the lifestyle," Noah said calmly, his tone neither condemning nor kind, "leaving the one who could barely afford to buy you a burger?"

A quiet, almost playful laugh followed. "Quite fair, honestly."

Emmie smiled faintly. "That's what I thought too. But… it was a mistake."

Her voice softened, trembling slightly. "He was a man who saw women as objects, something to be acquired with money."

'And I proved him right,' she added silently, her heart tightening.

"Not even months later, after I bit my tongue and endured his constant cheating because I'd already crossed the line… he left me."

Her laugh came out hollow, fragile.

"He told me — and I quote — 'You're not my type anymore.'"

She raised her glass and took a slow, deliberate sip, the wine trembling against the edge of her lips.

Noah laughed with her then, "So you lost the one who loved you, the one who was ready to work harder just to buy you a burger, for a few months of high life?"

"Doesn't look like a good deal to me."

Emmie sighed deeply.

"I regretted it," she admitted. "After that, I tried to call him back, but his number no longer worked. I went to the place where he used to work, but no one had seen him since then. It was as if he had disappeared out of nowhere… leaving nothing behind."

"I believed, back then… he just wanted to be alone. To start anew after what I did to him." She finished her sentence softly, then took another sip of wine, her eyes distant.

Silence settled between them — comfortable, painful, unspoken — before Emmie finally spoke again, her voice lowered and slightly slurred by the wine.

"I… I want his forgiveness," she said.

"Why?" Noah asked.

"…Because I regret what I did. I just want him to forgive me for betraying his feelings. He… he deserved better."

She took another small breath. "He was poor. But no man has ever treated me the way he did since him. I should have stayed… I should have stayed with him and supported him until we succeeded together."

'But ah… I was too young. Too immature. Too narrow-minded. Too impatient.'

"Money wasn't worth it, then?" Noah inquired, his voice calm but edged with something unreadable.

Emmie chuckled weakly. "It's nice at first. You can buy whatever you want, go wherever you want… but later, it all turns hollow. It leaves you with nothing except…"

She lifted her glass slightly, staring at the deep red swirl inside.

"…except the money to buy good wine to fill the void inside your heart."

She took a slow sip, her eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

"And even then," she whispered, "it doesn't last more than a few hours. So you start again, and again, and again… until…"

'You become addicted,' she finished in her mind.

Noah remained silent at her words, simply watching her. Then he raised his head slightly and turned toward her, finally revealing his face in full.

Emmie sensed the shift, the weight in the air, and instinctively turned to look at him.

Her eyes widened.

BADUM—!

The face. The hair. The eyes.

All of them were the same.

"Brandon…?" she breathed, voice trembling.

Noah smiled…calm, unreadable, yet filled with something that made her chest tighten.

"Well, Emmie," he said softly, "your life has been quite eventful, hasn't it?"

—End of Chapter 364—

A/N:

Sorry, again, class killed me yesterday.

Here, the late chapter.

Thanks for reading!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.