Chapter 133: A Father’s Pride

By the time Jet returned to Darkstar Guild Headquarters that evening, the enormous training complex had grown considerably quieter.

Most of the younger Awakeners had finished their scheduled sessions, although several arenas remained occupied by veteran Guild members whose battles occasionally sent tremors through the reinforced floors.

Jet had already spent the morning learning from Alessandro Orsini, and under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t have returned so soon.

However, shortly after sunset, he received a message from the Guildmaster’s office informing him that Alessandro had something to discuss concerning his training.

Adesewa had been occupied with an operation against another group of assassins, leaving Marcus to coordinate security arrangements at the concealed base.

After confirming that the invitation was genuine, Marcus arranged for a trusted driver to take Jet directly to Darkstar’s secured entrance.

Jet wasn’t particularly concerned about the meeting. Alessandro had seemed genuinely interested in helping him improve, and the opportunity to learn from an experienced 5-Star Awakener was something he couldn’t afford to waste.

An attendant escorted him upstairs, where Alessandro was waiting in a spacious private lounge adjoining his office.

Unlike the formal meeting room Jet had visited the previous day, the lounge was furnished with comfortable chairs, bookshelves, and several framed photographs.

A large window overlooked Zenith’s illuminated skyline, while a small dining table held a pot of tea and two plates of refreshments.

"Jet! Come in," Alessandro greeted warmly, rising from his chair. "I hope I haven’t interrupted your evening."

"Not at all, Guildmaster," Jet replied, stepping inside. "I was just resting when your message arrived."

"Good. Sit down and make yourself comfortable," Alessandro said, gesturing toward the opposite chair. "I wanted to speak with you before tomorrow. There’s something about your training that I neglected to mention earlier."

Jet took his seat while Alessandro poured him a cup of tea.

"Is something wrong with my technique?" Jet asked.

"Nothing particularly serious," Alessandro answered. "But I’ve been thinking about your tendency to rely on explosive movements. You’re talented, certainly, but you sometimes behave as though every exchange must be decided immediately."

Jet considered the observation.

During his battle against the assassins, he’d repeatedly relied on overwhelming bursts of strength to create opportunities for escape. It was a habit born from necessity, but Alessandro was right that it could become dangerous.

"I suppose I’ve gotten used to fighting opponents who don’t give me much time to think," Jet admitted.

Alessandro nodded thoughtfully. "That’s understandable. However, strength isn’t simply about how much power you can release. Knowing when to conserve it is equally important. I’ve seen talented Awakeners exhaust themselves trying to finish battles they could have won through patience."

Jet listened carefully as the Guildmaster explained several exercises he could perform without aggravating his injuries. They discussed footwork, weapon recovery, and methods of maintaining steady Mana circulation during prolonged movement.

The conversation gradually became more relaxed.

Eventually, Jet’s attention wandered toward the photographs arranged along the nearby bookshelf.

One depicted a younger Alessandro standing beside several heavily armed Awakeners. Another showed him receiving an award from an Earth Union official. A third photograph, considerably smaller than the others, featured Alessandro holding a smiling infant.

Jet studied the photograph for a moment.

Alessandro noticed his interest.

"That one caught your attention?" the Guildmaster asked, following his gaze.

Jet nodded. "Is that your son, Guildmaster?"

Alessandro looked toward the photograph, and his expression softened.

"My nephew, actually," he replied. "Although I’ve always considered him my son."

Jet glanced at him curiously.

Alessandro leaned back in his chair, studying the photograph with unmistakable affection.

"His father was my younger brother," he explained. "We were close growing up, although we couldn’t have been more different. I was always chasing dangerous assignments and looking for stronger opponents. My brother preferred a quieter life."

The Guildmaster smiled faintly at the memory.

"He used to tell me that I’d eventually get myself killed because I couldn’t resist getting involved whenever trouble appeared."

Jet chuckled. "Was he wrong?"

"Unfortunately, he was usually right about my judgment," Alessandro admitted with a laugh. "He was the sensible one between us. He married a wonderful woman, settled down, and started a family while I was still spending most of my time inside Dungeons."

His smile gradually faded. "Then a Dimensional Impact occurred."

Jet remained silent.

Even fifty years after the First Red Moon, Dimensional Impacts remained among the most feared disasters humanity faced. Unlike ordinary Dungeon outbreaks, they could unleash catastrophic destruction across entire districts with little warning.

Alessandro lowered his gaze toward the cup in his hands.

"My brother and his wife were caught in one," he continued quietly. "By the time the emergency response teams reached their neighborhood, most of the buildings had collapsed. We searched for survivors for nearly two days."

Jet could hear the weight behind those words.

"What happened to the child?" he asked gently.

Alessandro looked toward the photograph again.

"He survived," the Guildmaster answered. "Somehow, the room where his mother had placed him remained partially intact. The rescuers found him beneath a collapsed section of the building, still wrapped in his blanket."

For several moments, Alessandro said nothing.

Jet didn’t interrupt.

"I remember arriving at the emergency shelter," Alessandro eventually continued. "There were hundreds of injured people, families searching for relatives, children crying because they couldn’t understand what had happened. Then someone placed this tiny boy in my arms."

He smiled sadly. "He couldn’t have been more than a few months old. He looked at me, grabbed my finger, and refused to let go."

Jet glanced toward the photograph.

Alessandro’s expression carried an affection that was impossible to mistake.

"That was the day I became a father," the Guildmaster said.

Jet nodded slowly. "You raised him yourself?"

"From that moment onward," Alessandro confirmed. "I had people who helped, of course. Running a Guild while raising an infant isn’t something I’d recommend attempting alone. But he was my responsibility, and I wouldn’t have entrusted his future entirely to anyone else."

Alessandro chuckled as another memory surfaced.

"I knew absolutely nothing about children. The first time he developed a fever, I nearly summoned three of Zenith’s best healers to my house. My physician eventually threatened to throw me out of the room if I didn’t stop interfering."

Jet laughed. "I can imagine that."

"You have no idea," Alessandro replied, shaking his head. "I could walk into a dangerous Dungeon without hesitation, but one crying infant was enough to send me into a panic."

His laughter filled the lounge before gradually subsiding.

"He grew up surrounded by Awakeners," Alessandro continued. "Guild officers, instructors, administrators. Everyone knew him. Some of the older members still remember him running through the headquarters when he was barely tall enough to reach the reception counter."

Jet smiled at the image. "Did he want to become an Awakener like you?"

"Naturally," Alessandro answered. "He wanted to imitate everything I did. When he was little, he’d carry a wooden sword around the house and insist that he was going to become stronger than his uncle."

The Guildmaster’s eyes brightened.

"And what did you tell him?" Jet asked.

Alessandro smiled broadly. "I told him he’d better work hard, because I wasn’t planning to make it easy."

Jet laughed again.

Alessandro reached toward the bookshelf and picked up the photograph, examining it for several seconds.

"He’s a grown man now," the Guildmaster said. "Sometimes I find that difficult to believe. It feels like yesterday that I was teaching him how to walk."

There was unmistakable pride in his voice.

"He’s intelligent, ambitious, and remarkably capable when he puts his mind to something," Alessandro continued. "He has his own responsibilities these days, and we don’t spend nearly as much time together as we used to. But seeing how far he’s come makes everything worthwhile."

Jet listened without suspicion.

There was nothing unusual about a father speaking proudly of the child he’d raised.

If anything, Alessandro’s affection made Jet respect him even more.

The Guildmaster possessed extraordinary strength, commanded one of Zenith’s most influential organizations, and had responsibilities extending far beyond his own household. Yet he clearly regarded raising his nephew as one of the most important accomplishments of his life.

"Your brother would probably be proud of him too," Jet remarked.

Alessandro looked toward him.

For a moment, the older man’s expression became unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I hope so, Jet," he replied quietly. "I’ve spent many years hoping exactly that."

He returned the photograph to its place before settling back into his chair.

"Enough about this old man’s family," Alessandro said, recovering his usual warmth. "What about yours? Adesewa mentioned that you have a younger sister."

Jet nodded. "Inez. She’s seven."

Alessandro smiled. "Seven? That’s a wonderful age. Does she give you much trouble?"

"More than you can imagine," Jet replied with a small laugh. "She has a habit of asking questions at the worst possible moments."

"Then she’s doing her job properly," Alessandro remarked. "Children are supposed to make our lives difficult. Otherwise, we’d become far too comfortable."

Jet’s smile softened.

He thought about Inez waiting at the concealed base, still frightened by what had happened to their apartment. The thought of losing her remained unbearable, even after everything he’d endured.

Alessandro seemed to notice the change in his expression.

"She’s fortunate to have you looking after her," the Guildmaster said gently.

Jet shook his head. "I’m the fortunate one, Guildmaster."

Alessandro regarded him for a moment before nodding with quiet approval.

"Then make sure you remember that," he advised. "Becoming stronger is important, but don’t become so consumed by the pursuit of strength that you forget the people you’re trying to protect."

Their conversation continued until the evening grew late.

When Jet finally prepared to leave, Alessandro accompanied him toward the private elevator.

"Come back whenever your schedule permits," the Guildmaster offered. "And don’t feel obligated to spend every visit training. Sometimes a conversation is more useful than another hour swinging a weapon."

Jet smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Guildmaster. I’ll keep that in mind."

Alessandro placed a hand on his shoulder, careful to avoid the injured side.

"Take care of yourself, Jet," he said warmly. "And give my regards to your little sister."

"I will," Jet promised.

As the elevator descended, Jet reflected on their conversation.

He had initially approached Darkstar because he wanted access to better training facilities. Instead, he was gradually discovering that Alessandro Orsini possessed something more valuable than strength or influence.

He was a man who understood what it meant to love and protect a family.

And that was something Jet could respect without reservation.