Chapter 657: Sunday

The bartender finished mixing the drink and placed it in front of Walther.

A thin layer of white foam covered the surface of the glass, shimmering faintly in the light like a fresh layer of thin snow.

Walther lifted the glass and took a sip.

When the liquid slid down his throat, his brows twitched slightly; it wasn't that it tasted bad, but the flavor was too strong, as if drinking a juice concentrated several times over.

He set the glass down, turned his head, and looked at Xing Qi Ri.

"Still thinking about her?"

The tone carried no forced concern, but the casual feel of a friend asking offhand, evident in every word.

Xing Qi Ri's finger moved slightly, just the index tapping lightly on the bar, the sound almost lost amid the music.

His gaze shifted from the glass to the bottles behind the bar, lined up under the warm yellow light like a group of silent Observers.

"Half a week has passed."

The voice was so soft that Walther had to tilt his head to hear it clearly.

There was no sadness, no Rage, no anxiety, only a tone that sounded like stating a fact.

"Not a single piece of news."

Walther nodded, saying nothing further.

Walther knew who the "her" Xing Qi Ri referred to was—Robin, Xing Qi Ri's sister.

Half a week ago, without any warning, any news, or any clue, she vanished into thin air, like a drop of water evaporating, leaving no trace at all.

Xing Qi Ri searched many places.

He asked everyone he could, examined every lead he could, went to every location he could, and found nothing.

Robin was not in Pinokanni, not in the places she usually visited, not in any place he could think of.

It was as if she had been erased from this world, completely clean, without even a shadow.

Walther lifted the glass again and took another sip, this time a bit larger than the previous.

As the liquid slid down his throat, the intense flavor exploded in his mouth like a tiny bomb, blasting the words he wanted to say out of his throat.

"Sha Jin has also disappeared."

Xing Qi Ri gave no reaction.

"And the Servant of Star, Saber."

Xing Qi Ri's eyes flickered.

Those golden eyes moved from the bottles to the bar, then to the glass of already chilled drink before him. The white foam on the surface had vanished completely, leaving only a transparent layer that glowed dimly under the light.

Walther's lenses flashed briefly in the light.

His gaze, through the glasses, landed on Xing Qi Ri's expressionless face, on the silvery hair strands, and on the two wing‑shaped ornaments behind the ears.

His hand rested on the bar, fingers tapping the glass wall twice; the sound was crisp and brief, like two small stones striking each other.

"I'm not telling you to stop looking."

The voice remained steady, a steadiness not forced but naturally settled after many experiences.

The tone lacked any preachiness, no condescending "you should...", only the casualness of friends chatting.

"I just want to say, some things can't be found just because we want to."

He paused, seeming to weigh how to phrase the next sentence.

His finger tapped the glass again; the sound, more than the previous two taps, resembled an unconscious gesture while thinking.

"After the Pinokanni incident ended, I thought everyone could finally breathe easy. But—"

He did not finish the sentence.

It wasn't that he didn't know what to say; he felt it unnecessary to finish.

Xing Qi Ri understood.

Xing Qi Ri indeed understood.

His finger tapped the bar again; this time the sound was a bit heavier, standing out clearly amid the music.

His lips moved, then opened.

"I know."

The voice remained soft, yet the implication of "I know" was strong.

In those three words there was no resentment, no Rage, just the calm of someone who had accepted an unwanted fact.

"But I still have to search."

Walther nodded, saying nothing more.

He lifted the glass and drained the remaining drink in one gulp.

As the liquid slid down his throat, the intense flavor burst again, this time he let it linger in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing, without furrowing his brows.

The music in the bar changed to another track.

This one was lighter than the previous, like a tune where someone spreads their worries out to dry under moonlight.

Xing Qi Ri's gaze shifted from the chilled glass to the wall.

On the wall hung a painting of Pinokanni at night—the lights flickering in the sky and people walking the streets.

The colors were so bright they seemed jarring in the dim bar, like a window opened on the wall, the world outside entirely different from the one inside.

His gaze lingered on the painting for a moment, then slowly withdrew, landing on the glass before him.

Then he heard something.

It wasn't heard with his ears, but resonated directly in his mind.

The sound was faint, almost whisper‑soft.

But the sound was clear.

Xing Qi Ri's brow furrowed.

Walther noticed the movement.

Watching the faint change appear on Xing Qi Ri's expressionless face.

"What's wrong?"

The voice carried a hint of concern.

Xing Qi Ri gave no answer.

Xing Qi Ri's head tilted again, this time to the other side, and his ears twitched, as if confirming the direction of a sound.

His lips pressed into a line, his brow furrowed again, this time a bit deeper than before, and the two lines lingered longer at the center of his brow.

"Xing Qi Ri?"

Walther raised his voice slightly, pushed the wine glass away, leaned forward a little, tilted his head toward Xing Qi Ri, and the eyes behind his lenses fixed on Xing Qi Ri's face, staring at those almost imperceptible changes.

Xing Qi Ri's eyes widened sharply.

The golden eyes shifted from a half‑closed state to one that seemed to be watching something right in front of them.

"Robin."

When those three words were spoken, the tone was an indefinable mix of confirmation and doubt, like someone who heard a sound in the dark, unsure whether it was the sound they hoped for, yet willing to believe it was.

Walther's brow furrowed as well.

He glanced at Xing Qi Ri, then looked around.

The bar still had the same few people, the same few lights, and the same slow, leisurely music.

No one spoke, and no sound seemed to connect with the words "Robin."

His lips moved as if to say something, but the word got stuck in his throat and never came out.

His mind raced, shifting from "Is Xing Qi Ri too tired?" to "Robin's disappearance hit him hard," from "Maybe he should rest a bit" to "Maybe I should find someone to keep him company."

Those thoughts spun around several times, then were suppressed, leaving the most reasonable conclusion.

He might be "mad."

Not truly mad, but the "madness" of yearning to hear that person's news—a kind of "madness" that's not an illness, but a common, normal reaction when someone is pushed to their limit.

Walther took a deep breath, let the air circulate in his chest, then exhaled.

"Xing Qi Ri,"

His voice was pressed low, as if whispering a secret, "Calm down. There's no—"

"I heard it."

Xing Qi Ri interrupted him.

The voice wasn't loud, but the sense of "undeniable" was strong.

He turned his head, looking at Walther.

In those golden eyes there was no hesitation, only certainty.

"I heard Robin's voice."

Walther's mouth opened slightly, as if to speak, but Xing Qi Ri gave him no chance.

"She is calling for help."

When those four words were spoken, the tone changed.

"Someone is bullying her."

When he said that, Xing Qi Ri's face remained expressionless.

Walther sensed something.

Something enveloped his entire body in that indescribable feeling.

The source of that feeling was Xing Qi Ri.

Xing Qi Ri sat there, posture unchanged, expression unchanged, even the rhythm of his breathing unchanged.

But the aura emanating from him had changed.