Everyone was told to wake up early due to that so-called championship. Most of them started practicing right after waking up, whereas I first went to get breakfast.
I entered the mess and took my share of food. I noticed Jackson sitting in the corner silently eating. I went to sit with him.
"Hi. How are you?"
"I'm fine. What about you?" Jackson replied quickly, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice.
"Okay."
People tend to get comfortable around me easily. Well, that is, when I want them to.
And right now, I wanted Jackson to be comfortable around me.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?" Jackson kept his eyes on his food as he asked the question.
Why would I be?
That came out of nowhere. It was definitely not the kind of question I had expected him to ask.
"Should I be?"
I turned toward him, giving him a questioning look.
"Why? Are you uncomfortable with me?"
Jackson looked up, and a small smile appeared on his face.
"If you're comfortable with me, then I'm comfortable with you."
Well, that was simple enough.
"Then you remember our bet, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
Jackson paused and raised an eyebrow at me.
"So, you agree to it?"
"Yes." I shrugged. "Well, I don't exactly want to, but I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"Really?" His eyebrow rose even higher. "You're not joking?"
Why did he sound so surprised?
"Yes. But let me make one thing clear." I pointed my fork at him. "I'm not going to your district."
Jackson frowned slightly. "Which means?"
"Which means I'll lose to the General."
He stared at me for a moment.
"You're good at that. Then why do you sound like you have no confidence?"
"I do have confidence."
I leaned back slightly.
"It's just that I don't want to beat him."
That earned me an even more confused look.
"Why?" He seemed unconvinced by my statement.
"Because he has remained undefeated for three years. Ever since he became a general, no one has beaten him in anything."
I paused before adding in a deliberately mocking tone.
"And if I defeat him, he might lose some face." I smiled. "Actually, a lot of it."
Jackson looked as if he wasn't entirely convinced by my explanation again.
And honestly?
Neither was I.
I could defeat him.
I knew that.
The problem was that, somewhere between wanting to prove myself and wanting to win, something had changed.
Not long ago, defeating Logan would have been satisfying. Now, the thought didn't feel right.
I still wanted to win. My pride wouldn't allow me to simply stand there and lose on purpose.
But beating him? That was something I wanted to do willingly.
And right now, for reasons I didn't want to think about, I simply didn't want to.
"If you lose to him, then you'll have to treat me to your district. Right!" He reminded.
This is one of the reasons why I'm losing.
"Yes, I know."
He was smiling. That smile was much bigger than I expected.
I had seen Jackson smile before, but not like this. For some reason, when he actually smiled properly, his entire face changed.
In a completely different sense... It was quite charming.
"Then I'll be the first person to see your district in seven years, right?" Jackson asked.
"Well, yes."
I paused for a moment before continuing.
"It shouldn't be a problem. It's only going to be you, and besides, our districts used to have good relations in the past."
I had agreed on this bet rather carefully.
First of all, there was absolutely no way I could go to District Nine. Considering who I really was, walking into another district voluntarily sounded less like a reward.
So if I had to lose, losing to the General was definitely the safer option.
Second...
Jackson had been to District Ten.
That fact mattered.
When I had mentioned him to Uncle Joe, he had taken responsibility for Jackson. Which meant that, at least to some extent, Jackson wasn't a complete stranger to us anymore.
And honestly, there was another reason.
A quieter one.
It was good to have someone.
Someone you could talk to without constantly watching every word that came out of your mouth. Someone who didn't know your entire history. Someone who, for the moment, simply saw you as Rosen Nightingale.
Maybe that was why I didn't mind this bet as much as I pretended to.
After all, staying alone forever sounded far more exhausting than occasionally letting another person into your life.
"You guys are really mysterious. I mean, neither your people go to other districts nor people come to your district."
"Let me make one thing clear."
Jackson's expression became more attentive.
"People aren't allowed to enter our district, and they're not allowed to leave either."
His eyebrows immediately pulled together.
"The people don't even want to leave," I continued. "They're provided with everything they need."
"Why aren't they allowed to leave?" Jackson asked. "I mean, isn't that their right?"
I shrugged. "Look, everything our district does has its own reasons. We don't really care what outsiders think about our rules."
I paused before adding,
"And trust me, no one is exactly desperate to leave a place where they already have everything they need."
The moment the words left my mouth, Jackson went quiet.
He gulped.
Then his gaze dropped to his now-empty plate.
Did I say something wrong?
For a moment, I studied him.
His reaction was strange. It was as if my words had made him uncomfortable.
"Um... Jackson?"
He looked up.
"Since you're going to be the first person to visit in seven years, I'll give you a tour myself."
His expression changed slightly, and I continued before he could interrupt me.
"If you don't have a problem with it, you can stay in District Ten for the last two days of our holiday."
I gave him a small smile.
"And after that, we'll come back here together."
For a second, Jackson simply looked at me.
Then he nodded.
"Fine."
That was it?
Just fine?
I stared at him.
"Well, you're welcome."
A small smile appeared on his face again.
"I didn't say thank you yet."
"Then you should."
"I'll think about it."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Maybe bringing him to District Ten wasn't such a brilliant idea after all.
I rarely make friends.
Actually, calling it rarely would be generous. I don't have any friends at all.
My brother is the only person I have ever considered a friend, so I suppose this is a good start.
After breakfast, we headed toward the training grounds. Well, I headed there after finishing my breakfast. Jackson had already finished his long before me.
He wanted to practice and, for some reason, had asked me to watch him.
Or rather, to help him.
Jackson picked up his bow, positioned himself in front of the target, and pulled the string back.
The arrow flew through the air and struck the target.
He immediately turned around to look at me.
I folded my arms.
"Put more strength into it. The more force you use, the better chance the arrow has of reaching exactly where you want it to."
Jackson nodded and prepared another arrow.
This time, he pulled the string back with more force.
Thwack.
The arrow landed much closer to the center.
He looked back at me again, silently waiting for my judgment.
"Better."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Your strength is fine now," I continued. "But you're focusing too much on the force. Now focus on your aim."
Jackson looked toward the target.
"Keep your eyes fixed on one point," I said. "Don't think about anything else. Once you decide where you want the arrow to land, commit to it."
He took a slow breath and raised his bow again.
This time, I watched him more carefully. Maybe I wasn't completely useless as a friend after all. Or maybe Jackson had simply made the unfortunate decision of choosing me as his personal trainer.
He took another arrow from the quiver, positioned himself, and released it.
This time, the arrow landed near the bottom of the target.
I sighed. "Okay. Come here."
Jackson lowered his bow and walked toward me.
I pointed toward his feet.
"Your footing is wrong. Look at me."
Before he could say anything, I took the bow from his hands and stepped into position. I adjusted my stance, planted my feet firmly on the ground, and raised the bow.
"Your balance matters," I explained. "If your footing is wrong, it affects everything else, including your aim."
I pulled the string back. For a moment, everything around me disappeared. My eyes remained fixed on the center of the target.
Then I released the arrow.
ThAck.
Straight into the bull's-eye. I handed the bow back to him.
"Now do exactly what I did. Okay?"
Jackson nodded and returned to his position.
This time, he paid closer attention to his footing before raising the bow.
He took a breath.
Pulled the string back.
And released.
The arrow landed much closer to the center.
A smile appeared on my face.
"Much better. Keep practicing."
I gave him an approving nod before casually looking to the side.
And immediately regretted it.
The general was standing a short distance away.
His red eyes were fixed directly on me.
What? Was he planning to eat me alive or something?
For a second, I simply stared back at him.
Then, as if he had sensed the sudden danger hanging over me, Jackson stepped directly in front of me, blocking my view of the General.
"Did you see that shot?" he asked. "Was it okay?"
I quickly turned my attention back to him.
"Yes."
Maybe a little too quickly.
"It was good. Keep practicing."
Jackson nodded, apparently satisfied with my answer, and went back to practicing.
As for me, my eyes immediately began searching for the General again.
Nothing. He was gone. I looked around the training ground once more.
Still nowhere.
It was as if he had disappeared into thin air.
And honestly?
I wasn't sure whether I should feel relieved... or worried about where he had gone.
LOGAN
I can't stand this anymore.
Why are you constantly testing my temper? My patience? My limits?
She had pushed me far enough.
There was only one way left to make her understand who I really was. Not just Logan Hawk, the general she had decided to hate, but what I was capable of. What my district was capable of.
I can't go back now.
I took out my phone and called Father.
He answered almost immediately.
"Son, come on. Any news."
I sighed.
"I'll be there by tomorrow. I have something to tell you."
There was a brief silence. Then his voice changed.
"Son, you're coming back?"
"If you don't want me to come, then I won't."
I knew my father well enough to know that he definitely wanted me to return, especially if I had information he had been waiting for.
"Of course I want you to come," he replied quickly. "It has been three years since I last saw you. My eyes are seriously dying to see you."
There he went again with that dramatic, heartbroken tone of his.
Rather than making me feel emotional, it made me feel sick. I was almost convinced I might puke.
"Quit the acting, Father. I only called to tell you to expect me tomorrow night."
"Logan, are you—"
I ended the call.
I needed to distract myself before my thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't.
Because right now, all I could think about was ruining her life.
First, I would get rid of Rosen.
Then... I would take her... with me.
Father could do whatever he wanted with District Ten.
As for her... I wasn't going to ruin her life. I would be there.
I can make her happy.
It wasn't my fault that things had reached this point. She had left me no choice.
I had waited for her for years.
I couldn't simply let all those years disappear because she had decided to reject me.
You leave me no choice~
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A little over ten minutes passed before the ceremony finally came to an end and the actual competition began.
Officers stood in front of us with straight backs and expressionless faces. They looked less like people and more like finely carved statues. The guns, arranged neatly on a long table in front of the shooting range. Everyone stood according to their districts, which meant I was standing near the end of the line, while Jackson stood just ahead of me.
The rules were simple.
Those who passed each round would move on to the next.
The first round began.
One by one, the participants stepped forward, took their shots, and waited for the results.
By the time the round ended, only fifty-two people had qualified.
Jackson and I were among them.
Of course, we were. My training didn't go to waste.
Now came the second round. Archery.
We formed another line and waited for our turns.
Jackson turned toward me. His eyes looked slightly uncertain.
Seriously?
This was not the Jackson I had been practicing with earlier.
"I'm good with guns," he said quietly. "But bows and arrows... you know I'm still not very good at them."
He really needed to calm down. His lack of confidence was going to ruin his performance before he even got the chance to shoot.
"Jackson, now is not the time to whine like a baby," I whispered. "Relax. Don't lose confidence. Just do what you practiced and stay calm."
Unfortunately, while I was busy giving him my highly professional motivational speech, his turn had already arrived.
Everyone was waiting.
No wonder the surroundings had suddenly become so quiet.
Before Jackson could step forward, the general's voice echoed across the ground.
"Jackson Woods. Disqualified."
Really now?
Both of us turned toward him.
Jackson looked confused.
So did I.
We both lowered our heads slightly, silently apologizing and hoping that perhaps the general would reconsider.
Bad idea.
The moment I saw his glare, every word I had prepared disappeared.
That look clearly said:
My decision is final.
"Rosen Nightingale. Step forward."
Jackson quietly retreated and joined the group of participants who had failed to qualify.
I stepped forward. The bow was placed in my hands.
I positioned myself, pulled the string back, and released.
Thawck. Straight into the target.
A perfect shot.
I handed the bow back without giving it another thought.
By the end of the second round, only thirty-three people remained. And now came the third. This time, things became interesting.
Six moving targets had been placed around the training area. Three had to be taken down with arrows.
The remaining three with bullets.
Again, we lined up.
One by one, the participants attempted the challenge. And one by one, most of them failed. By the time my turn came, only three people had managed to pass.
Riley Shade.
Kyson Hawk.
And Mason Hawk.
Now it was my turn.
I picked up the bow first.
The targets moved.
One.
I released the arrow.
Thwack.
Two.
Another arrow.
Thwack.
Three.
The last arrow struck its target cleanly.
Then came the gun.
I raised it and followed the remaining three moving targets with my eyes.
One bullet.
Then another.
And the third.
All six targets were down.
I lowered the gun.
That was it.
Out of thirty-three participants, only four had qualified for the next round.
Riley.
Kyson.
Mason.
And me.
Honestly?
It was a little embarrassing for the others. But I couldn't deny that things had finally become exciting.
The fourth round was announced.
This time, we would have to run while shooting at moving targets. Of the four of us, the person who hit the most targets would be declared the winner.
Now this was getting serious.
All four of us would participate at the same time.
The general stepped forward to explain the rules.
"Listen carefully. I will not repeat myself."
Everyone went silent.
"No pushing. No talking while running. There are ten targets and ten bullets."
He paused briefly.
"You are not allowed to stop while shooting. Once you pass a target, you cannot turn back to shoot it if you miss."
His eyes moved between the four of us.
"The person who shoots the most targets accurately will be declared the winner. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," all four of us answered at the same time.
"Go and get ready."
With that, he returned to his seat.
We were each given a gun loaded with five bullets.
The remaining five were placed in our hands.
All four of us exchanged confused looks.
Apparently, the general noticed and stood again.
"You will have to reload your guns midway."
Great.
"But remember," he continued, "you are not allowed to stop."
Well. This was getting better and better.
He paused.
Then his eyes met mine.
"Once you stop, you lose."
And then he looked away.
Why did him looking away suddenly make me feel disappointed?
These were the same eyes I had once been afraid to look into.
And now...
I was apparently standing here wishing he would look at me again.
I shook my head.
Focus, Rose.
Reloading while running was going to be difficult.
We were given five minutes to come up with a strategy. I didn't need that long. I already knew what I was going to do.
Soon, the five minutes were over.
We were taken to the jogging track.
Ten targets had been positioned along the course. Five stood on the right side and four on the left, with measured gaps between each of them.
But there was another target.
A smaller one hung directly above the finish line.
I frowned.
The instructor stood nearby, so I decided to ask.
"Instructor, what are we supposed to do with that target?" I pointed toward it.
The target hanging above the finish line.
He smiled slightly.
"I was waiting for someone to ask that question."
So it was part of the challenge.
"Yes," he continued. "It is part of this round."
Then something else was handed to us.
Shurikens.
I stared at the small blade resting in my hand.
"The final target must be hit using this," the instructor explained.
He glanced toward the General.
"This last-minute change was made by the General himself."
Of course it was. I looked toward Logan.
So he wanted to make things more difficult?
Fine.
Honestly, I liked it.
The harder the challenge became, the more exciting it was.
And perhaps, for once, he would finally understand something.
I wasn't weak. Not physically. Not mentally. And I definitely wasn't someone who needed to be underestimated.
I tightened my grip around the shuriken and smiled.
Let's see what you've prepared for me, General.