Veil of the Vanguard

Lena's heart plummeted.

Missing? All week?

The words echoed in her head as she stared at him, her throat dry. The man's gaze darted between her and the people bustling outside, as if he couldn't believe he was sitting next to someone who had been plastered on missing person posters.

"I—" Lena struggled to find her voice, shaking her head. "There's been some kind of mistake."

"No mistake," he said, leaning back against the bench. "You've been all over the place. Everyone's been talking about it. Girl with no identity vanishes without a trace, no leads, no suspects. You're her. I'm sure of it."

Lena's breath quickened, panic clawing at her chest.

"But...I don't belong here," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

The man raised an eyebrow.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She didn't respond. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of it all. If she'd truly been missing for a week in this world, what did that mean for her in real life? Did time move differently between the two worlds? And what would happen if she didn't find a way back?

The man leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"Look, if you're scared or in trouble, I can call someone. The cops, maybe. They've been searching for you non-stop. You'd be safe."

"No!" Lena blurted out, her voice sharper than she intended. She shook her head quickly. "No cops."

The man frowned, his suspicion evident.

"Why not? You don't trust them or something?"

"It's… complicated," Lena muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Did you get yourself into trouble? If that's the case, I have no choice but to call the cops anyway..."

Lena's eyes widened in panic as she watched him press 8-1-2 on his phone. Without a second thought, she shot up from her seat and bolted out of the waiting area.

"Hey! Wait!" the young man shouted, his voice following her as he raised the phone to his ear.

Lena bolted down the crowded street, her heart hammering in her chest as she brushed past startled pedestrians. The young man's voice echoed faintly behind her as he reported her to the police.

Panic clouded her mind, and she wasn't thinking straight when she ducked into a boutique with glass-paneled windows and bright golden signage. Inside, soft jazz music played, and neatly arranged racks of clothing greeted her.

She hurried to the counter, panting and clutching her sides.

"Please... do you have a restroom? I really need to use it..."

The two assistants exchanged skeptical glances. One of them, a tall woman with a sharp bob haircut, raised an eyebrow.

"Restroom access is for paying customers only."

Lena's heart sank.

"I'll buy something," she lied, desperation thick in her voice.

The other assistant, a younger woman with colorful nails, shrugged.

"Fine, but don't take too long."

Lena nodded frantically, her face flushed, and rushed toward the restroom sign at the back. Inside, she locked the door, letting out a shaky sigh of relief as she pressed her back against the cool tiles. Her body trembled as she tried to gather her thoughts. She had to stay hidden, at least for a while.

Once she had relieved herself, Lena stepped out, trying to think of her next move. She glanced around the store, noticing the assistants' watchful eyes. She needed a disguise—something to make her blend into this unfamiliar world. Her gaze fell on a display rack showcasing elegant dresses, and an idea struck her.

At the far end of the boutique, she picked up a simple but elegant gown: a flowing navy-blue A-line dress with a cinched waist and delicate silver embroidery along the neckline and hem.

It was understated yet sophisticated. Next, she grabbed a pair of gold-accented sandals that sparkled under the boutique's warm lights. Her eyes landed on a wide-brimmed cream-colored hat with a matching ribbon band, perfect for concealing her face, and a pair of oversized dark sunglasses.

Carrying the items, Lena slipped into a dressing room. Her delivery uniform felt like a beacon, drawing unwanted attention, so she quickly stripped it off, shoving it into the trash bin in the corner. Sliding into the gown, she adjusted the fit and stepped back to look in the mirror.

The transformation was astonishing. The gown hugged her figure perfectly, and the sandals added a touch of elegance. The hat and sunglasses completed the look, giving her an aura of mysterious sophistication. For a moment, she almost didn't recognize herself.

Taking a deep breath, Lena walked back to the counter. The assistants looked her up and down, their expressions softening.

"Wow, you clean up nicely," the older one remarked.

"That dress was made for you," the younger assistant added with a grin.

Lena managed a small, nervous smile.

"Thank you."

When it came time to pay, dread crept into Lena's chest. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a crumpled handful of bills—currency from her world. She handed over a crisp hundred-dollar bill, her hands trembling slightly.

The taller assistant held it up, examining it with a raised brow.

"What's this?" she asked, her tone flat with skepticism.

"It's… money," Lena replied, her voice faltering.

The woman scoffed, tossing the bill onto the counter.

"Not here, it's not. We only take Aurs."

Lena blinked. Aurs? The weird name clicked in her head. That must be this world's currency!

Her stomach sank.

"I… I don't have Aurs," she confessed, her voice barely audible as embarrassment and panic set in.

The two assistants exchanged a knowing look, their once-polite smiles fading.

"This outfit costs over five thousand Aurs," the taller woman said, folding her arms. "If you can't pay, we'll have to call the manager."

"Wait!" Lena blurted, her hands raised in desperation.

"Just… give me a moment. I'll figure something out. Please."

But the younger assistant had already reached for the phone, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping the device with practiced ease.

Lena's heart raced as she watched the situation spiral out of control. Without thinking, she spun on her heel and bolted for the exit.

"Hey!" the taller assistant called after her, her voice sharp with frustration. But neither of them followed. Leaving the boutique unattended wasn't worth chasing a fleeing customer.

Lena didn't look back as she dashed into the busy street. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Her elegant sandals weren't made for running, but she pushed forward, weaving through the crowd.

'If I get caught...I'm done for!'

Suddenly, a black car screeched to a halt just inches from her. The force of the near collision knocked Lena off balance, and she tumbled to the ground. Dazed, she quickly scrambled to her feet, clutching her hat as the car door slammed open.

A tall man stepped out of the sleek black car, his tailored suit pristine and his presence commanding. His sharp features, framed by neatly combed blond hair, gave him an air of authority.

It was Killian, one of Dan Cross's trusted assistants. His piercing light brown eyes locked onto Lena, a flicker of recognition flashing across his face. It was unmistakably the same girl he and Dan had rescued from kidnappers at the main bridge a week earlier.

"You," he said, striding toward her with measured precision. "What are you doing here?"

Lena froze, her mind a chaotic blur. It was impossible to explain—not now, not like this.

"Please… you have to hide me." Her voice trembled as she whispered.

Killian frowned, his sharp gaze sweeping over her and the street behind her. A few pedestrians had paused to watch, their curious glances lingering.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice firm but not unkind.

Lena clutched his arm, desperation etched into her features.

"I can't explain right now," she pleaded, her grip tightening. "Please, just help me. Don't let them find me!"

Killian hesitated, clearly torn. His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting the moment. He fished it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted subtly, as though receiving silent instructions. After a beat, he tucked the phone away and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Fine," he said curtly, gesturing toward the car. "Get in."

Relief washed over Lena as she scrambled into the back seat, her hands trembling as she shut the door behind her. She leaned back against the plush leather, letting out a shaky exhale. For the first time in what felt like hours, she allowed herself to breathe.

But the relief was short-lived.

A presence beside her made her freeze. Slowly, as if afraid to confirm her suspicion, she turned her head.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Sitting next to her, radiating an air of quiet authority, was Dan Cross himself. His sharp, handsome features were even more striking in person—piercing blue eyes, a strong jawline, and an aura of undeniable power. His gaze was steady, unyielding, and deeply inquisitive, as though he could read every thought running through her mind.

Lena stiffened, her pulse quickening. She didn't immediately recognize him as the male lead of the webtoon—he was just another intimidating figure in a world that had already thrown her life into chaos.

Dan's eyes narrowed slightly, studying her as if trying to place her face. Then he leaned back, his posture deceptively relaxed.

"Well," he said, his voice smooth and measured, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "This is… unexpected."

Lena's throat felt dry, her words refusing to come out. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, acutely aware of how out of place she must look.

Killian slid into the driver's seat, his calm professionalism masking any curiosity he might have felt.

"Where to, sir?"

Dan didn't answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on Lena.

"Back to the hotel."