“The bakery?” Nino said excitedly after the final class ended.
“You live above the Dupain-Cheng family bakery?”
“More than that.” Leo said with exaggerated pride.
“I live above the best bakery in Paris.
That’s a scientifically proven fact based on personal taste-testing.”
“We have to see this.” Alya said immediately, her phone practically flying out of her pocket from excitement.
“For the blog.
Of course.”
“Of course.” Leo repeated with a smile that knew perfectly well that “for the blog” was merely a convenient excuse.
Marinette looked at him with slight concern, which was obvious to anyone paying attention.
“Maybe—I mean—you don’t have to—”
“We’re coming!” Nino declared happily, putting an arm around Leo’s shoulders as they walked.
“That’s a final decision.”
Tom greeted them with a voice that could probably reach the end of the street.
“Bienvenue!
Bienvenue!” he shouted as he wiped his hands on his apron.
“Lio and Marinette’s friends!
Welcome, welcome!”
Nino looked at Leo with pleasant confusion.
“Her dad is really cheerful.”
“Uncle Tom is cheerful enough to be scary sometimes.” Leo said cheerfully.
Tom heard this and laughed even louder, then brought out an entire tray of fresh croissants and placed it in front of them without asking whether anyone was hungry.
“Eat!
Eat!
Friends of Léo and Marinette, friends of family!”
They sat around a table in the corner of the bakery, and the croissants disappeared quickly between the four of them.
Alya, between bites, looked at Leo with the investigative expression that hadn’t disappeared since their first meeting.
“So.” she said.
“Tell me more about this ‘very, very far away’ place.”
Leo looked at her.
“I already told you.
Very, very far away.”
“That’s not a place, Lio.
That’s a description.”
“It’s a very accurate description of a place.”
“Fine.
Then give me one detail.
A country name, anything.”
Leo thought for a second with completely fake seriousness, then smiled.
“It’s cold in winter, warm in summer, there are people, and probably some mountains.
Is that enough for your journalistic investigation?”
Alya let out a frustrated sound mixed with laughter.
“You’re the worst source I’ve ever talked to.”
“Thank you very much.
I’ll put that on my business card when I finally make one.”
Nino laughed loudly, and even Marinette—which had been watching the exchange with slight nervousness—finally joined in.
Nino and Alya left shortly before sunset, after Nino repeatedly promised to come back “very soon,” while Alya gave Leo one last investigative look that hadn’t weakened in the slightest.
Tom closed the bakery.
Silence descended over the place like a curtain falling after a long performance.
In his room, after dinner, Leo closed the door behind him and sat down at his small table.
He took out his watch and carefully placed it in front of him. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Then he brought out the three components he had managed to obtain from the shop, along with a collection of small metal pieces and wires he had gathered from the bakery’s scrap box.
He arranged everything in front of him.
One piece here.
A wire there.
A tiny screw beside the circuit.
Then he stared at the entire arrangement for a few seconds.
To anyone else, it was nothing more than a pile of scattered parts.
To Leo, it was a map.
An incomplete map.
“Alright…” he muttered, rubbing his hands together before looking at the watch.
“You and me tonight.”
He carefully opened the back cover, using a small tool he had made himself from a piece of metal he had found in a scrap box.
“I know we’re missing a lot of components.”
He glanced at the three pieces.
“A lot, actually.”
He looked back at the watch.
“But that’s okay.”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“We’ll try to repair you, at least partially.”
He began working.
Leo dismantled several of the internal components and carefully cleaned the contact points before replacing a damaged piece with another that had similar specifications.
It wasn’t perfect.
Far from perfect.
But he wasn’t trying to make the watch function at full capacity.
He was only trying to give it enough power to respond.
Minutes passed.
The faint sound of metal touching the surface of the table.
The soft scraping of his tools.
Leo’s calm breathing.
Then he connected the final wire.
He secured it in place.
Stopped.
And looked at the watch.
Nothing.
“Come on…”
He waited.
One second.
Two.
Three…
Suddenly—
A flicker.
Leo froze.
The light was incredibly faint.
A thin thread of golden light appeared between the internal circuits, then vanished.
Leo stared at it as if afraid his eyes had deceived him.
“Are you—”
He hesitated.
Then the flicker appeared again.
Even weaker than the first.
But it was there.
A smile spread across his face before he even realized it.
“You’re working.”
He leaned closer, his eyes carefully observing the internal circuits.
“Not properly…
but you’re responding.”
Then he quietly laughed and shook his head.
“Wait, am I actually talking to an electronic device as if it’s going to answer me?”
“Alright, Leo.”
“I think the isolation is starting to get to you.
Well, maybe that’s the price of being a genius.”
But he didn’t move away.
He remained seated in front of the watch, watching the tiny golden flicker appear every few seconds.
It was weak.
Very weak.
But it was the first real sign of the watch responding since he arrived in this world.
And for some reason he didn’t quite understand…
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
“One step at a time, right?”
He said it quietly.
Then he returned to his tools and began thinking about what he would need to complete the repair.
Then he heard the sound.
Distant screams from the street.
Running footsteps.
Something crashing into something large.
Leo immediately turned off the light and rushed to the window.
Below him, the street was in chaos.
People were running.
And in the distance, something glowing bright green was moving between the buildings at an unnatural speed.
Leo looked toward Marinette’s room.
The opposite window was slightly open.
The curtain was moving in the wind.
The room was empty.
This time, Lio didn’t simply observe.
He rushed out of his room, ran down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time, and reached the bakery’s back door, which led to a narrow alley.
He opened it.
Looked right.
Looked left.
No one.
No trace.
As if Marinette had simply vanished into thin air.
He stood there for several seconds, his breathing slightly faster from the run as his mind tried to piece the evidence together.
“Alright.” he finally said to himself in the tone of someone admitting to a temporary defeat.
“Either she’s frighteningly fast, or there’s a route I don’t know about.”
He stopped.
Despite everything, he smiled.
“If I were a bad detective, I’d stop here.
Luckily, I’m a genius.”
He went back inside, climbed to his window, and watched from a distance.
The green light continued moving between the buildings for several minutes, occasionally crossing paths with a familiar red-and-black flash, until everything finally settled down and the street returned to silence.
Exactly twenty minutes later, he heard Marinette’s window open wider, followed by light footsteps inside her room.
He didn’t go and ask her.
He didn’t need to.
He sat on the edge of his bed, looking at his watch, which was still flickering with its faint golden light, and smiled like someone slowly solving a mystery, enjoying it far more than he probably should.
“Side door.” he said to himself, counting on his fingers.
“Eighteen minutes.
Matching phrase.
And a complete disappearance in less than a minute tonight.”
He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“Whatever is happening in this strange city, I think I’m starting to like it despite everything.”
He turned off the light and lay down, the tiny golden flicker still pulsing quietly beside him in the darkness.
End of Chapter Eighteen