Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users - Chapter 87

87: The Quiet Girl 87: The Quiet Girl Meanwhile, a few hours ago, back in school, as Ethan and the twins left the class.

Chairs scraped quietly against the floor as students also began packing up.

Backpacks zipped, phones buzzed, and conversations picked up around the room like someone had unmuted life.

But at the very back of the class, a girl moved slower than the rest.

She didn’t rush.

She didn’t talk.

She closed her notebook, gently slid her pencil case into her bag, and stood quietly, unnoticed by most.

Her long, sleek black hair brushed softly across her shoulders as she moved.

Although she wore the same school uniform as everyone else, it somehow looked neater on her.

It was tighter at the cuffs and smoothed down perfectly.

No wrinkles.

No loose threads.

Her eyes were calm, dark, and thoughtful, but they carried something distant in them-a sense of watching the world from just a step too far away.

She didn’t speak to anyone as she left the classroom.

No one stopped her.

No one even looked.

And maybe that was by design.

She made her way down the hallway, quiet and steady.

Her shoes clicked softly against the polished tiles, but the sound didn’t echo.

It didn’t draw attention.

Even when she walked past groups of laughing students, none of them turned toward her.

They didn’t acknowledge her at all.

Like she didn’t exist.

But she did.

She was just wrapped in something subtle.

Something protective.

As she walked, a soft glow flickered across the small hairpin tucked into her bangs.

It was the size of a fingernail.

Shaped like a crescent moon.

Blue light shimmered over it briefly-too faint to notice unless you were looking for it.

Then it faded.

Just outside the school gates, the afternoon sun warmed the sidewalk.

A gentle breeze rolled through the rows of parked cars and filtered through the leaves above.

And that’s where they waited.

Four black vehicles.

All identical.

Black paint is polished to a mirror finish.

Windows are completely tinted.

No markings.

No emblems.

They didn’t belong to the police, or the government, or any company the students could name.

And they weren’t normal cars either.

They hovered.

Just a few inches above the road, engines silent, bodies still.

They were not parked but held in place like they were floating on invisible rails.

Beside each vehicle, a small team of women stood.

All of them wore matching suits-tailored black with silver accents.

Their heels were silent, their stances sharp, and their eyes scanned the school gates with practiced calm.

Every one of them was striking.

Some were tall, others more compact, but all of them carried the same presence: professional, trained, and watchful.

And all of them were extremely beautiful.

It was the kind of scene that should’ve drawn a crowd.

But no one noticed.

Students walked right past.

Teachers didn’t say a word.

Some glanced briefly at the cars, then blinked-and moved on like they’d seen nothing at all.

The girl at the gate paused momentarily, her eyes scanning the street.

Then she exhaled softly.

“They activated it again…” she murmured.

She stepped forward, her shoes clicking once on the pavement before she crossed the line between the school grounds and the waiting convoy.

Instantly, one of the guards stepped forward.

She was the tallest of the group.

Her suit was cut slightly differently-more formal, with a silver badge resting on her collar in the shape of a curved wing.

Her dark hair was tied back into a sharp, high ponytail that didn’t shift even in the breeze.

As the girl approached, the guard bowed slightly-not too low, but respectfully.

“Young mistress,” she said gently.

“Did your day go well?” The girl gave a tired little smile.

“It was… normal.

No incidents.” “That’s good to hear.” The woman straightened and walked with her, a respectful distance to the side as they approached the nearest car.

The door opened automatically as they neared.

The interior was soft leather and cream velvet, with cool air and a faint lavender scent drifting out.

The young girl didn’t hesitate.

She stepped inside and sank quietly into the back seat, her shoulders finally relaxing.

The head guard closed the door behind her.

Then she walked to the front passenger side and climbed in.

The moment she shut her door, the other three cars adjusted slightly, syncing with the lead vehicle.

Then-softly-the convoy lifted.

No rumble.

No warning.

The cars rose into the air like birds gliding on invisible wings.

They floated upward, bypassing the street traffic without effort.

As they gained height, the sunlight caught the license plate of the lead car.

It read, simply: SA 00005 Back on the ground, the people who had walked past just moments ago still didn’t turn.

They didn’t look up.

They didn’t ask questions.

Because they didn’t remember seeing anything.

In the back seat, the girl leaned against the window.

She glanced out, watching the school shrink beneath her.

The head guard turned slightly in her seat.

“Any trouble with the suppression seal today?” “No,” the girl said quietly.

“It stayed in place.

No one noticed me.” “Good.

That’s how it should be.” The girl didn’t answer right away.

Then, after a pause, she looked down at her uniform.

“I did… see him again today.” The guard tilted her head.

“Him?” The girl nodded slowly.

“Ethan Nocturne.” That name made the inside of the car go quiet.

The air seemed to hold its breath.

But the head guard didn’t speak right away.

Finally, she asked, “Did he notice you?” “I don’t think so,” the girl replied.

“But… I might have slipped-just a little.

My hairpin activated.

The one my brother gave me.” “You were protected,” the guard said firmly.

“Still,” the girl whispered.

“He stood out.

It was like… he didn’t match the room.

Like everything else, bent around him just a little.” The guard didn’t answer.

She looked forward, her expression unreadable.

The car continued its climb, disappearing into the clouds.

The other three cars followed behind.

And below them, the city carried on as if nothing had ever happened.

Just another school day.

Just another girl, heading home.

But the quiet hum of the engine-and the faint blue pulse of the hairpin-said otherwise.

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