What is a lie?
A lie is an intentional choice, to hide the truth, to bend it, or to replace it entirely. A lie is often told to protect something… or someone. Sometimes it is told to gain something.
Other times, it is told simply to avoid a consequence that would follow if the truth were allowed to surface. A lie can even be told to persuade someone into believing a reality that does not exist, yet feels real enough to accept.
Every lie carries a risk.
Because no matter how well it is crafted, the truth still exists beneath it , silent, patient, waiting for the moment it can no longer be held back. Until then, a lie can serve as a substitute. A replacement. A shield.
…Or is it?
Only time can truly answer that.
But then, what is a good lie?
A good lie is one that contains a fragment of truth within it. Something real. Something solid enough to anchor belief. And that was exactly what Fai was trying to do.
By saying he had a slight headache, he wasn't lying—not entirely. And luckily, Johnson had provided the perfect cover for it, making the story even more believable.
Johnson was trying to hide Fai's healing abilities. He did his best to make Sarah believe that Fai couldn't heal on his own, that everything she had witnessed was the result of a certain pill he had given him.
Fai, on the other hand, simply played his part. He added just enough truth to make the situation feel real. Natural. In the end, it worked.
Luckily, Sarah didn't find the situation awkward. Everything seemed believable to her. After all, it wasn't her first time hearing about healing pills.
These were things available to the public. It wasn't as if they were forbidden items obtained through some hidden black market.
Healing pills had existed for a long time , dating back to the war era. Back then, the goal had never been to create a pill that healed wounds.
The true intention was far more ambitious. Scientists wanted to develop a pill capable of replenishing mutant energy within a hunter's core—something that could drastically shorten recovery and charging time.
Millions were invested into the project. Guilds, factions, organizations—all of them poured resources into it. Everyone wanted such a tool.
One could only imagine the beauty of such a pill on the battlefield, where energy and stamina meant everything. If humanity had succeeded, they would have created an unstoppable force—an army that never tired, never slowed down. The tide of war could have changed in an instant.
But perhaps that dream was too much to ask from the universe.
The pill couldn't be made.
Experiment after experiment yielded nothing. They tried relentlessly, pushing day and night, refusing to give up. But no matter how hard they worked, the results were never what they demanded.
In the end, the resulting pill had no effect on mutants at all.
However, when tested on ordinary humans, it did produce a result.
It healed.
Because of that, the entire project was deemed a massive loss. The outcome was nowhere near what had been envisioned. What remained was a watered-down version of a failed dream.
And so, that small lie answered—and cleared—most of Sarah's doubts.
Still, if there was any question lingering in her mind, it would be this:
What was Johnson doing with a healing pill in the first place?
It was common knowledge that healing pills only worked on humans. Johnson was a mutant , and had been for a long time. So why would he carry something that had no effect on him?
But that was none of her business.
(Heck, even Fai's healing abilities were none of her business either… but she was—never mind.)
With that matter settled, Fai stepped closer. He bent slightly, lowering himself until he was almost at the same height as Sarah. Silence settled between them for a brief moment. Fai's eyes drifted to Johnson's battered face—the swelling, the bruises, the broken arm. All of it painted a story far different from the one he remembered.
Then he spoke.
"You look like hell."
He said it quietly, intending it as a joke.
"Th-that's not very n-nice… coming from you," Johnson replied. His swollen lips dragged over the words, but they were clearer now. "I look like this because of you, you know."
Johnson's one good eye shifted toward him, then narrowed. A small smile formed unintentionally. He wasn't happy about the situation, but he was glad to see that Fai had a funny side too.
Still, what Johnson said left Fai confused.
Fai blinked. "Because of me?"
"Yes," Johnson said immediately. "If you weren't there, I wouldn't have had to break my face for anyone."
He had a point.
If Johnson hadn't known Fai, hadn't cared for him, he wouldn't have taken that beating. And there was also the promise. A promise of ten golden coins. Johnson was not the type to back out of his word.
Sarah let out a tired sigh as she continued pressing Johnson's arm in place.
"Stop moving," she said firmly. "If you keep jerking like that, it'll take longer to heal."
"Says the one who turned my head into a punching bag," Johnson muttered.
Fai's expression softened, though his eyes remained serious. "Johnson… what happened after I blacked out?"
He genuinely wanted to know. His curiosity was at its peak.
Johnson fell silent.
For a brief moment, even the usual complaints faded. His gaze drifted away, distant, as if he were reliving the experience all over again.
When he finally spoke, his voice was lower. Controlled.
"At first… it was easy," he said. "Those guys weren't special. Fast, sure—but sloppy."
Fai nodded slowly. That aligned with what he remembered.
"I kept them back," Johnson continued. "I didn't let them get close to you. Every time one tried, I pushed them away. I thought… it was over. I thought that would be it."
Sarah glanced at him but remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"But then," Johnson said, clenching his jaw, "suddenly… they changed."
Fai frowned slightly, confused.
"They… changed?"
The question lingered in the air.
What exactly did Johnson mean by that?