Leo returned to the shop alone after school this time.
Marinette had offered to accompany him, but he asked her to wait at the bakery, claiming that “technical work requires concentration, not pleasant interruptions.”
She didn’t seem entirely convinced by his excuse, but she eventually let him go, though the look she gave him before they parted carried that little hint of suspicion that Leo had begun to grow accustomed to.
Vernier greeted him with a calm smile, then led him through a narrow corridor to a small back room Leo hadn’t seen during his previous visit.
The room was completely different from the front of the shop.
There was no clutter here, no boxes stacked on top of one another.
Instead, there was a large workbench covered with precisely arranged tools, shelves filled with dozens of metal and glass containers, and several strange devices whose purposes Leo couldn’t identify at first glance.
But all of that lost its importance the moment his eyes fell upon the object sitting in the middle of the table.
A watch.
It was old, slightly larger than ordinary watches, its metal covered with a faded layer of age, while tiny scratches were scattered across its surface, making it look as though it had spent decades in the hands of someone who used it constantly.
Leo stopped.
At first, he didn’t know why, but he felt something strange pressing against his chest—a faint, unsettling sensation that crept over him before he could understand its cause, as though his body had recognized something familiar before his mind could.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
His eyes slowly moved over the details of the watch, and the closer he got, the stranger the feeling became, until it was impossible to ignore.
“This…”
The word escaped his lips unconsciously.
Vernier raised an eyebrow slightly.
“What?”
Leo didn’t answer.
He stared at the watch as though he were looking at a ghost that had just crawled out of a grave.
The shape of the cover.
The edges.
The position of the hinge.
That thin line around the center.
Everything was familiar, but not in the way one remembers a watch they’ve seen somewhere.
It was familiar in a way that made him feel as though he remembered his own hands making it.
He slowly reached out and lifted the watch from the table.
The moment it settled between his fingers, he froze.
A sudden coldness ran through his fingertips, followed by a sharp shiver that traveled up his spine to the back of his neck, while his heartbeat quickened without his mind giving it any logical reason to do so.
He turned the watch over in his hands.
His breath stopped.
There was a small mark along the inner edge.
A thin scratch, barely visible.
He stared at it for several long seconds.
Then his eyes widened.
He recognized it.
There was no other possibility.
That scratch wasn’t a manufacturing defect.
It was the result of a mistake he’d made himself while assembling the cover, when one of his tools had slipped from his hand and struck the metal with force.
He remembered the moment.
He remembered the tool.
He even remembered how annoyed he’d been when he discovered the scratch.
His hands slowly lowered.
This is my watch.
It wasn’t merely a similarity in design.
Nor was it a counterfeit.
It was one of the watches he’d made with his own hands.
But something about the internal mechanism made the shock even deeper.
He opened the back cover.
The mechanism appeared before him.
His eyes widened further.
His gaze moved rapidly over the components, but the shock didn’t stop his mind from working.
If anything, it made him examine every part more carefully, comparing the arrangement of the components with what he remembered from the watch’s development.
The central circuit.
The old connections.
The pathways he’d later redesigned.
And the small unit that had caused him repeated problems in the early versions.
He stopped.
Then returned to it.
And realized the truth.
This wasn’t the watch he knew in its final form.
It was an old prototype.
One of the first models he’d created before developing the design and settling on the final version.
A stronger shiver ran down his back.
He remembered that period clearly—the days when he was still experimenting with the idea, the long hours he’d spent modifying the mechanism, the failed attempts, and the changes he’d later made until he reached the design he knew now.
This watch belonged to that time.
To his past.
To a stage that was supposed to have ended years ago.
Leo slowly raised his head.
“This…”
He swallowed, as though the next words were too heavy to pass easily through his throat.
“This is one of my first prototypes.”
Vernier remained silent.
Leo leaned closer to the mechanism, as though his eyes were searching for any detail that could prove his memory was deceiving him, but he found more evidence with every passing second.
He could determine the period in which the watch had been made simply from the shape of the central core.
He had made it.
And he remembered it.
And that was when his mind collided with a truth for which he had no explanation.
This watch hadn’t been with him when he arrived in this world.
It had been here before him.
Long before.
Leo slowly looked up at Vernier.
“How?”
The word came out with difficulty.
“How did you get it?”
Vernier smiled calmly, but it wasn’t the smile of a man surprised by what he’d just heard.
“Didn’t I tell you?
I inherited it.”
Leo slowly shook his head.
“No.”
His tone was firm this time.
“You don’t understand.”
He placed the watch on the table and pointed toward the internal mechanism.
“This isn’t merely a watch made by someone else using a design similar to mine.
It’s not even a copy of it.”
Then he looked directly into Vernier’s eyes.
“I made it.”
Vernier’s expression didn’t change.
And that alone made something cold settle in Leo’s chest.
“I remember this version.”
Leo continued, his mind now working at incredible speed, rebuilding the past piece by piece.
“I remember when I made it.
I remember why I made it.
I even remember the problems I encountered while assembling it.”
He paused for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.
“This version came long before the final one.”
Vernier remained silent.
Then a small, mysterious smile appeared on his face, one vague enough to make Leo’s stomach tighten.
“I was wondering if you’d recognize it.”
Leo kept his eyes fixed on him.
The question was no longer about the watch.
It was about the man standing before him.
Vernier knew.
And he didn’t merely know that the watch existed.
He knew that Leo would be able to recognize it.
Leo’s thoughts began moving rapidly.
From the moment he’d entered the room, he’d been watching Vernier, analyzing his movements, his way of speaking, his unnatural calmness, and even the way he’d placed the watch before him as though he’d been waiting for his reaction.
And now the picture was becoming clearer.
This man wasn’t naive.
He knew something.
And perhaps he knew far more than he should.
Leo narrowed his eyes.
For a moment, a simple and direct thought crossed his mind.
Attack him.
He could end this right now, force the answers out of him, or at the very least make him reveal what he knew.
Then stopped.
His mind immediately warned him.
No.
His watch wasn’t working.
That meant his ability to use his full capabilities was still limited.
More importantly, Vernier himself was the one who had shown him this watch.
It made no sense for the man to reveal something this valuable without having some means of protecting himself.
If he’d deliberately shown him the watch, then he must have been confident about something.
Either he possessed something that gave him an advantage…
Or he knew something about Leo that Leo himself didn’t yet know.
Either way, attacking now would be foolish.
Leo quietly lowered his hand and forced his expression back to normal.
Not now.
He would repair the watch first.
He would get what he’d come for.
And he would keep their relationship exactly as it was.
Not friendship.
Not trust.
A mutual interest.
At least for now.
Leo raised his eyes toward Vernier.
“Where did you get it?”
Vernier remained silent for a few moments before answering calmly.
“From a man I knew a very long time ago…
a man who knew more about the world than most people ever could.”
Leo wasn’t convinced.
Not at all.
But he didn’t show it.
He simply looked at the watch before saying,
“All right.”
He sat down at the workbench.
“I’ll fix it.”
Vernier raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t ask you to do that yet.”
Leo looked at him calmly.
“And I never said I’d do it for free.”
A brief silence followed.
Then a faint smile appeared on Vernier’s face.
“So you’re still sticking to our agreement.”
“Of course.”
Leo answered as he took out his tools.
“You want a working watch, and I want the components you promised me.”
He raised his eyes for a moment.
“That’s all that matters right now.”
Vernier didn’t comment.
But he smiled, as though the statement had confirmed something he’d been waiting to hear.
Leo began working.
This time, his concentration was sharper than usual.
He wasn’t merely repairing the watch.
He was studying a piece of his own history.
Every component brought back a stage in its development.
Every circuit reminded him of an old experiment, and every flaw was something he could identify the cause of simply by looking at it.
At the same time, his mind was working in another direction.
He was trying to understand Vernier.
Why did he have this watch?
Who had given it to him?
And why did it seem as though all of this had been arranged from the beginning?
But Leo didn’t allow those questions to distract his hands.
He knew at least one thing.
He would need this man.
At least until his watch was working.
And after that…
There would be another reckoning.
Two hours passed before Leo placed the final component into position.
His fingers ached from the intense concentration, his back was stiff, and his eyes were dry from staring for so long, but he didn’t feel the exhaustion until he finally stepped away from the workbench.
He secured the back cover.
Then pressed the side button.
Nothing happened.
He waited.
Then pressed it again.
Tick.
His breath stopped.
The hand moved.
Very slowly.
Then the second hand moved.
And the watch began to work.
Tick…
tick…
tick…
Leo stared at it, feeling a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease.
He had fixed it.
And at the same time, he was now more certain than ever that its presence here wasn’t a coincidence.
Vernier stared at it for a long moment.
“Twenty years.”
He said it in a calm voice that carried something Leo couldn’t quite understand.
“Twenty years it remained silent.”
Then he raised his eyes toward him.
“Until you came.”
Leo felt a slight shiver run down his back, but he didn’t allow it to show on his face.
Vernier reached beneath the table and pulled out the small metal box, then placed it in front of him.
“Our agreement.”
Leo looked at the box.
Then at the watch.
Then at Vernier.
He took the box.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Vernier said calmly.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Leo didn’t answer.
He had already made his decision.
As long as his watch wasn’t working, Vernier held an advantage he couldn’t ignore, and any attempt to force answers out of him would be an unnecessary risk.
But once his watch was working again…
Things would be different.
For now, he would keep their relationship as it was.
Vernier wanted his repairs.
Leo wanted his resources and information.
An exchange of interests.
Nothing more.
He headed toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped for a moment.
“I’ll be back.”
Vernier smiled.
“I know.”
Leo left, and the shop’s bell rang behind him before the door closed.
Vernier remained standing by the door after Leo left, listening to the bell until its sound faded into the noises of the street.
Then he slowly returned to the workbench, where the old watch continued ticking with a calm, steady rhythm.
Tick…
tick…
tick…
He stared at it for a long time, as though its sound had brought back something from the past that he hadn’t wanted to remember.
Then he let out a quiet breath, and a small smile appeared on his face.
He said to himself, running his fingers along the edge of the old watch.
“But I couldn’t let what Azirax gave me go to waste.”
His hand stopped.
He remained silent for several moments, his eyes fixed on the watch.
Then he added in a lower voice,
“Now…
I know enough.”
He didn’t explain what he had learned.
And there was no one there to ask him.
He simply returned the watch to its place while its ticking continued to fill the quiet room.
Tick…
tick…
tick…
Outside, Leo walked down the street with the box in his hands, but his steps no longer carried the same calmness with which he’d entered the shop.
His mind was still stuck back there.
On the watch.
On Vernier.
And on the question he couldn’t answer.
How did a version of my watch arrive in this world before me?
But the bigger question was different.
Why?
Leo no longer believed that his arrival in this world had been an accident.
Ever since he’d gathered his initial observations, reviewed the details of the experiment that preceded his transfer, and begun noticing things that couldn’t possibly be explained by coincidence, he’d reached a conclusion he was no longer willing to abandon:
Someone had brought him here.
He didn’t know who.
And he didn’t know what they wanted from him.
But they existed.
And now the watch had appeared.
A watch he’d made himself—a prototype from an old stage of his life—had appeared in another world long before he’d arrived, inside the shop of a man who clearly knew far more than he was saying.
Leo tightened his fingers around the metal box.
A cold shiver spread from the back of his neck down his spine.
It was proof that the game had begun before he even knew he was playing.
He stopped walking.
Then laughed quietly.
“So this is how you want to play it…”
He lowered his eyes again.
There was no fear on his face.
There was something else.
Extreme caution.
And a cold anger beginning to form behind his blue eyes.
He remembered the words he’d told himself days ago, when he’d first realized that his arrival might not have been an accident:
I won’t be anyone’s pawn.
He tightened his grip around the box.
“And if anyone thinks I’ll be a pawn…”
They can dream.
Then he continued walking.
He didn’t know who was moving the pieces.
But he had decided on one thing from this moment onward.
If someone was watching him, he would watch them too.
And if someone had devised a plan to bring him into this world, he would understand it.
And if this watch was part of that plan…
He would discover it himself.
Leo didn’t have all the answers.
But he didn’t need them yet.
All he needed was to remain calm and collect the pieces one by one.
And now…
He had his first real piece.
Vernier.
When he arrived at the bakery, he found Marinette sitting behind the counter, playing with a small piece of dough while waiting for him.
She raised her head the moment she saw him and smiled.
“Finally.”
Leo stopped at the door for a moment.
Her smile was ordinary.
Natural.
Warm.
And yet, after everything that had happened at the shop, he felt something strange for a moment.
Not suspicion toward her.
Nor fear of her.
It was simply that strange feeling that had come over him when he realized that, despite everything that had happened, this place had become a part of his life.
He approached her.
“You waited all this time?”
She shrugged.
“You said you wouldn’t be long.”
“And that means you trusted me?”
Marinette looked at him for a moment, then gave him a small smile.
“Maybe.”
Leo raised an eyebrow.
“Dangerous answer.”
She laughed.
“And you’re someone who asks too many questions.”
He sat across from her and placed the box on the table.
Marinette looked at it curiously.
“Did you get what you wanted?”
Leo looked at the box.
Then at her.
For a moment, he considered telling her everything.
The watch.
The fact that he’d made it himself.
Vernier.
And the truth that was beginning to force itself into his mind with increasing certainty.
But he backed down.
Not because he didn’t trust her.
But because he still didn’t know whom he could trust when it came to this mystery.
He gave her a sideways smile.
“I got it.”
Marinette leaned slightly toward him.
“What happened?”
“Nothing important.”
She stared at him.
“Leo.”
“What?”
“You’re lying.”
Leo froze for a moment, then laughed.
“Me?
Impossible.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Whenever you lie, you start acting way too innocent.”
“That’s an insult to my character.”
“It’s an observation.”
He looked at her for several seconds, then smiled.
“I’ll tell you later.”
She didn’t press him.
She simply looked at him for a few moments before returning to the dough in front of her.
As for Leo, he remained silent.
As he sat there with Marinette, surrounded by the warm smell of freshly baked bread and the gentle light of the bakery, he couldn’t help thinking about the strange irony of his situation.
Ever since he had arrived in this world, he’d only been trying to fix his watch, return to his life, and find the idiot who had dragged him into this mess.
And now he had a new world.
New people.
New secrets…
A small smile appeared on his face.
All right.
If you want to play…
Then let’s begin.
Because Leo had no intention of becoming a chess piece.
And for a reason he didn’t yet understand, he felt that this place had become closer to home than anywhere else had since he arrived in this world.
End of Chapter Twenty-Five