Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1372

Chapter 1372: Brazen

"Rough night?"

Atticus turned toward the voice, and just by the ledge of the balcony, was the Saint. The other marked.

The night air suddenly became warm. Atticus turned back towards the sprawling city.

"Rough day."

"I can imagine. I felt the same way when I first awakened my mark."

Atticus was a bit taken aback by how open she sounded. Nice, even. Like she was speaking to an old friend.

"So you didn’t just awaken your mark?" He pretended not to know.

"I think it was pretty obvious." Her lips curled slightly, teasing, as though daring him to admit it.

There was a moment of silence between them, where neither said anything.

"Are you here to also try to recruit me?" Atticus broke the silence.

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

Atticus turned towards the Saint, who met his eyes without flinching.

"Because I wanted to talk."

The Saint dropped down from the ledge, walking towards him. Atticus had only ever needed a glance at a person to be able to tell all their features.

However, as the Saint approached, he couldn’t help but notice new things about her. Her full, pink lips. Her piercing eyes that seemed to see through all. Her scent overwhelmed his senses, and he had to take a breath to calm.

The Saint stopped beside him, overlooking the city.

Atticus wasn’t quite sure what her age was, but she clearly didn’t look it. She stood at 5 feet 11, petite, according to Atticus’s standards anyway. But she had a certain air of authority, like someone used to leading.

"So, how do you feel currently?" she asked softly, tilting her head as though she genuinely cared.

Atticus snapped out of his thoughts, almost chiding himself.

"Terrible."

"How so?" Her brows drew together, eyes studying him.

Atticus paused, as though to consider the question.

"Different emotions," he finally said. "Anger, rage, betrayal... but to be honest, all of them feel like... steps, and each one is pushing you closer to the same end..."

"Revenge." The Saint finished for him, her voice a whisper.

Atticus turned towards her.

"Revenge."

Their eyes held a beat too long.

’So this is why.’

He was now starting to understand why he felt pulled. Why it felt like he was conversing with an old friend rather than a stranger he met the day before.

’The fragment.’

There was nothing that brought two people together than sharing the same emotions. They all felt the same thing, saw the same thing. Solvath’s end, his emotions. But the only difference was, she had lived with it far longer than he.

Atticus had questions.

"Why did you help me?"

"Honest answer?"

"Yes."

"Because I was curious."

"About me?" Atticus asked. About the fragment, he surmised internally.

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