Despite receiving such a devastating punch, the figure did not stay down.
Slowly—unnaturally—it pulled itself free from the crater where it had been driven into the wall, its form unraveling and reforming as black smoke seeped outward from the cracks. The damage that should have crippled it seemed to mean very little. As it straightened, the smoke thickened, then suddenly sharpened, its movements accelerating in a way that defied logic. In an instant, it began to blur, slipping in and out of sight at every corner of perception, too fast for the man to track properly.
Before he could react, it vanished from his field of vision entirely.
Then—
It reappeared behind him.
Or rather, it passed him.
The figure speed-blitzed past without even attempting to strike, its true target revealed only a heartbeat later as it surged toward Sarah, rushing at her like a violent gust of black wind tearing through space itself. The intent was clear, reckless, and sudden—yet it underestimated her.
Sarah did not panic.
Despite the overwhelming speed, she shifted her body with effortless precision, dodging cleanly to the side. The attack missed her completely, the figure tearing past where she had stood a fraction of a second earlier. It couldn't adjust in time. Its momentum carried it straight into the wall behind her, though unlike before, there was no damage. Its smoke-like form simply dispersed and rebounded, slipping through the surface rather than shattering it.
Moments later, it reformed into a humanoid shape once more, now facing her directly.
The battle had moved outside the room.
Inside, the man remained frozen for a brief second before turning his attention to what mattered most. He rushed toward the woman lying lifeless on the floor, kneeling beside her. Her eyes were still open—wide, glassy, empty. Dead eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice stripped of anger, replaced by something far heavier. "I didn't know this would happen."
Guilt crept into his expression as he gently lifted his hand and carefully closed her eyes himself. Her skin was pale—too pale. It wasn't just death that had taken her warmth. It was something more deliberate.
Blood.
The realization settled slowly, sinking into his thoughts as he examined her condition. By instinct alone, he understood.
It absorbed her blood.
His brow furrowed as confusion followed the grief. Why would an evil spirit take mortal blood? The act wasn't random—it was intentional. Purposeful.
His breath caught.
Suddenly, his eyes widened, shock flashing across his face as the implications slammed into place. He turned sharply toward the doorway and shouted, urgency cutting through his voice.
"Sarah—be careful! It has mortal blood!"
Outside, Sarah stood facing the entity when the warning reached her. Her expression shifted immediately, surprise flickering across her features. That single piece of information changed everything.
The entity didn't hesitate.
As if reacting to being exposed, it dashed forward again—this time maintaining a solid, human-like form rather than dispersing into smoke. Its movements were more controlled now. Heavier. Intentional.
Sarah understood instantly what that meant.
It wants to use mortal techniques.
She stepped forward instead of retreating, matching its approach with precise timing. At the last possible moment, she sidestepped, allowing the figure to pass her once again. But this time, she didn't let it go unpunished.
Twisting midair, she spun with brutal speed and delivered a powerful kick straight toward its face, striking it in the narrow window of time as it passed her. The impact was immediate and violent.
The entity was launched into the wall behind it, smashing into the surface hard enough to carve out another deep crater. But unlike before, it recovered quickly—far too quickly. It pulled itself free almost at once and began advancing toward her with slow, deliberate steps, radiating menace with every movement.
Sarah narrowed her eyes.
From that kick alone, she could feel the difference.
Its body wasn't just smoke anymore. It was dense. Fleshy. Solid in a way it hadn't been before.
After all this time… have I finally encountered a spirit that consumed mortal blood? she thought carefully. It hasn't used any mortal techniques yet—but that doesn't mean it won't.
Her gaze sharpened as the entity continued its slow approach.
Harder. Heavier. More physical, she analyzed. It's becoming human.
Without hesitation, she began forming hand signs.
They were complex, precise, shifting seamlessly from one to the next—three distinct formations executed with practiced ease. The moment the final sign was completed, she slammed her palm down toward the ground.
The impact sent a violent tremor through the floor.
Light erupted.
From beneath the surface, a swarm of massive swords burst upward, each one enveloped in radiant, divine light. Thirteen in total, their blades gleaming with holy brilliance as they hovered momentarily in the air, towering and imposing.
The fact that it consumed human blood—mortal blood… her thoughts paused for just a moment.
Then she muttered coldly, "You made a huge mistake, rookie spirit."
At once, the swords tilted forward, their edges aligning toward the entity. In the next instant, they launched, charging at overwhelming speed. The attack was relentless, fast enough that even Sarah herself expected it to end there.
But—
The entity dodged.
At the very last moment, it dissolved into black smoke, slipping sideways and reforming just beyond the path of destruction. The swords slammed into the ground all at once, impaling the floor and carving out a massive crater beneath them.
Sarah's eyes widened slightly.
It dodged?
She hadn't anticipated that. She had been certain the attack would finish it.
Somehow… it had grown faster.
Her expression darkened as realization dawned.
It must've absorbed all her blood, she concluded grimly. That's the only way it could've grown this strong in such a short time.
However, no matter what the entity attempted, Sarah already understood it far too well. Its movements, its patterns, even the desperation hidden beneath its aggression—none of it escaped her awareness. The moment it leapt away from the divine swords, twisting its form to evade annihilation, something else happened at the same time.
The man was already there.
He appeared directly behind it, timing his arrival with instinct rather than calculation. Without hesitation, he shifted his stance and moved in close, arms spreading as if to wrap around the entity and restrain it completely. It was a reckless choice—dangerous, even suicidal—but there was something else guiding him. A subtle sense, sharp and urgent, told him that this thing feared being held more than being struck.
The entity reacted instantly.
It slipped away just before his arms could close, its form unraveling into smoke and reforming a short distance away. The escape wasn't clean—it was rushed, almost panicked. In that instant, the entity understood something it had been desperately avoiding.
Both of them were capable of stopping it.
The realization weighed heavily in the air, thick with hostility and pressure. Still, the entity had no intention of surrendering. There was one final option left to it—one it had been holding back.
For the sake of its victory, it expelled a massive amount of blood.
The blood it had absorbed from the dead woman burst outward from its form, suspended unnaturally in the air, shimmering darkly as if alive. Then, forcing its presence into a voice that sounded torn and distorted, it screamed:
"You… two… die!"
The sound itself became a weapon. A visible sonic wave erupted from the entity's mouth, warping the air as it surged toward them. Both Sarah and the man reacted immediately, diving away from the wave just in time to avoid the direct assault that would have ruptured their ears and shattered their balance.
Sarah slid back several steps as she regained her footing, her expression tightening with grim understanding.
Great. It's releasing the mortal blood to activate the technique, she thought coldly.
Her eyes flicked toward the man across from her, meeting his gaze for only a fraction of a second. In that brief moment, she raised her hand and made a swift, deliberate gesture—one they had learned long ago, a silent signal forged through experience rather than words.
He understood instantly.
Without hesitation, he nodded once, his body already moving as he prepared to close the distance again. But before he could act, the entity completed its process.
The blood hovering in the air began to change.
Each droplet expanded slowly, swelling as though mixed with something unseen, pulsing with corrupted vitality. The atmosphere grew heavier, more oppressive, as if the very space around them recoiled in response.
Then—
The droplets shot forward.
They were launched with terrifying speed and force, streaking through the air like living projectiles aimed directly at both of them. The attack was relentless, covering a wide range, leaving almost no room for error.
Almost.
Both of them moved in perfect urgency, dodging each drop by fractions of a second. The blood slammed into walls and floors instead, splattering violently upon impact.
This attack… the man thought sharply as he avoided another strike.
Recognition flashed through his mind. He had seen something like this before—or at least heard of it. The realization made his heart race, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead as fear crept in despite his composure.
If that hits me…
On the other side, Sarah had already drawn her conclusion.
Her eyes tracked the blood that struck the wall behind her, watching how it hissed and ate slightly into the surface before dissipating.
If even a single drop touches my skin, she realized grimly, this body is finished.
The battlefield fell into a tense rhythm of movement and evasion, every breath measured, every step calculated.
And the entity, now fully committed, was no longer holding back.
However, the truth was that both of them had already prepared their next move—quietly, instinctively—just a few seconds before. Without exchanging words, Sarah and her partner began closing the distance between themselves and the evil spirit, their movements careful, measured, and deliberately restrained. The entity remained standing still, as if frozen in place, its posture unnervingly calm amid the aftermath of its own attack.
It's smarter than it should be, Sarah thought as she observed it closely. Especially for an evil spirit.
The answer surfaced almost immediately. Human blood, she concluded. That's the reason.
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the wall, where the droplets of blood had splattered moments earlier. They hadn't evaporated. They hadn't lost their presence.
It absorbed them, she realized. That mortal blood belongs to it now. And it can manipulate it however it wants.
The awareness forced her to slow her advance, to analyze rather than rush. She studied the spirit's stillness, the subtle shifts in the air around it, wary of any sudden reversal that could lead to catastrophic consequences. Every step forward was taken with intent, her senses stretched thin.
Then something felt… wrong.
The evil spirit hadn't moved. Not even slightly.
It stood there as if drained, helpless, unable to act. The behavior unsettled both of them. They didn't understand the reason, but neither of them stopped. If this was an opening—forced or feigned—they couldn't afford to ignore it. They needed to act before the moment slipped away.
Then—
A smile crept across the entity's face.
Its eyes opened fully, revealing pupils stained a deep, unnatural red. The smile widened further, stretching far beyond what was humanly normal, forming something grotesque and deeply wrong. There were no teeth—only an eerie white void inside its mouth, as if light itself had been swallowed there.
The blood on the wall began to move.
It wriggled like something alive, pulling itself together into clusters of droplets, quivering as though responding to a silent call. In the next instant, it retracted violently, racing back along the same paths it had been flung from moments earlier.
Both Sarah and the man reacted at once.
They dodged instinctively, watching as the blood streaked past them and was absorbed back into the entity's body, sinking into its form as if it had never left. The air pulsed sharply with regained power.
They braced themselves, anticipating another devastating attack.
Instead, something entirely different happened.
A sudden explosion of wind erupted outward from the evil spirit, far stronger than the violent surge that had marked its arrival at the pharmacy. The force slammed into them like a physical wall, ripping at their balance and threatening to drag them away. They dug in instinctively, struggling just to remain standing as the storm howled around them.
Then—just as abruptly as it began—it stopped.
The pressure vanished.
The wind died.
And the evil spirit was gone.
Sarah stood still, her breathing steady, her expression calm despite the surprise that lingered beneath it.
"What…?" she murmured softly. "Where did it go? Is it hiding somewhere?"
"It ran away," the man said immediately, certainty clear in his voice. His senses scanned the area once more, confirming the absence of immediate danger. "I can feel it. It's already far away."
Neither of them moved to pursue.
Both understood the same truth at the same time. That evil spirit was stronger than either of them—perhaps even stronger than both of them combined. Though they had formed a plan they believed could have worked, the outcome had proven something far more unsettling.
The entity wasn't just powerful.
It was intelligent.
Far more than they had initially assumed.
Sarah exhaled slowly, unease settling into her thoughts as a troubling question surfaced.
"Where could it have learned that mortal blood is consumable…" she murmured to herself, her gaze lingering on the ruined space around them, "…and usable as a combat technique?"
***
That was what had happened the night before.
Now, Sarah remained behind the counter, the convenience store once again quiet, fluorescent lights humming softly above her. Ryu had already come and gone—leaving with a bag of food, a head full of questions, and little in the way of real answers. Or perhaps too many answers, given only in fragments vague enough to confuse rather than clarify. She had been warned not to tell him much. Not yet. Not until his mind was ready to withstand the weight of the truth without cracking under it.
Leaning back slightly against the counter bar, she let her shoulders relax, allowing herself a rare moment of stillness. Her gaze drifted to nothing in particular as her thoughts circled back to him.
Is he… considerate? she wondered. He noticed I was tired. He asked instead of prying.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips. He could have tested his newly awakened ability on her—could have probed, sensed, confirmed what he felt. Yet he hadn't. Either he was holding back out of restraint, or he didn't yet trust himself enough to do so.
Either way, she thought, I hope he joins today's hunt.
Her fingers tapped idly against the counter. I want to see his cu—
The thought cut itself off abruptly.
The automatic door slid open with its familiar chime.
Sarah lifted her head at the sound, her eyes narrowing slightly as a familiar presence entered the store. She didn't need to look twice to recognize him. The aura alone was enough.
It was him.
Her partner from the night before.
Her traveling companion.
"Daniel…" she murmured under her breath, the name leaving her lips almost unconsciously.
He was the same man who had fought alongside her against the evil spirit—but today, there was a clear difference in him. Gone was the raw tension and barely restrained anger from the night before. In its place stood a colder, more composed version of him, his presence sharpened and controlled, as though he had already processed everything that had happened and sealed it away behind discipline.
Daniel's eyes swept across the convenience store methodically as he approached, scanning shelves, corners, reflections in glass—habitual, instinctive. Only after a moment did he stop directly across the counter from her. He leaned forward slightly, lowering himself to her eye level, and spoke in a calm, deliberate tone.
"Where is that guy?" he asked. Then, more specifically, "Ryu. I saw him heading here."
Sarah smiled—but not as herself.
Instantly, she slipped into the role of an ordinary cashier, her expression polite and neutral, her posture casual enough to sell the act to anyone watching.
"Oh," she replied lightly, "you mean the one who just left?"
Daniel studied her face for a second longer than necessary. He didn't buy the act—not even a little—but he also knew her well enough to recognize when she wasn't lying. The performance wasn't for him. It was for the world around them.
He straightened slightly, frowning.
"…Ah. How come I didn't see him leave?"
This time, Sarah's smile softened just a bit, something more genuine slipping through the façade.
"He did leave," she said calmly. "Maybe your eyes were elsewhere, and you just didn't catch it. Unfortunately."
"Aw… dang it," he muttered, releasing a heavy sigh as the words left him. Despite that brief show of disappointment, the cold composure on his face never truly faded. It clung to him like a second skin, firm and unmoving.
Sarah studied him for a moment longer than necessary, her gaze sharp and unfiltered.
"What's with this demeanor of yours?" she asked flatly. "You're different from yesterday. It's almost like I'm finally seeing the real you—one that's been hidden for a long time." She paused, then added without softening her tone, "Tired of acting weak?"
He frowned at that, clearly caught off guard by her bluntness.
"Huh? No," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "I'm just… mentally prepared again."
Without saying anything more, he turned away. He took a few steps back toward the exit, his footsteps steady and deliberate, and left the store without offering a final word. There was no need for one. They would meet again regardless of whether they acknowledged it now.
After all, they were both heading toward the same objective.
The evil spirit that had escaped.
As the door slid shut behind him, Sarah exhaled quietly and leaned back against the counter once more, her thoughts already shifting to what lay ahead. Tonight, after eleven, she planned to search the areas near the college and other places steeped in silence. From her experience, such spirits favored quiet, forgotten spaces—areas where human presence thinned and the boundary between worlds grew fragile enough to exploit.
That was why it had chosen those locations.
What had happened inside the college itself was a separate matter altogether, and not one she intended to involve herself in. Someone else was already handling it.
For now, she was alone again in the convenience store.
Rather than continuing to idle and sink into her thoughts—or waste time scrolling aimlessly on her phone—she straightened up and began moving. She started cleaning the counter, reorganizing misplaced items, and sorting shelves that didn't truly need sorting. It wasn't about the work itself. It was about staying grounded, keeping her hands busy, and preventing herself from over-relaxing before the night truly began.
***
After returning to his dorm, he closed the door behind him and slipped naturally into his usual routine, movements practiced and automatic, as though muscle memory alone could carry him through the evening. He unpacked the food he had bought, ate just enough to settle the hunger gnawing at him since earlier, then carefully stored the rest away for later that night. The room felt quiet—comfortably so—and for the first time in a while, the silence didn't press down on him.
The clock on his desk ticked steadily, its digital display glowing faintly.
6:49 PM.
He sat down in front of his computer, his fingers already resting on the keyboard. This time, however, it wasn't out of obligation or anxiety. The project he had been drowning in for days—weeks, even—was finished. Or close enough to finished that it finally felt real. Still, habit urged him to double-check everything one last time.
Ms. Buron's review had already arrived.
As he read through it carefully, line by line, the realization settled in slowly but unmistakably.
It was done.
A smile spread across his face before he could stop it, genuine and unburdened. The exhaustion that had weighed on him earlier seemed to melt away all at once, leaving his expression lighter, his posture looser. He caught himself murmuring a tune under his breath, something absentminded and cheerful, barely audible but full of relief.
Before he knew it, he was on his feet.
He stretched, then laughed quietly to himself, moving a little—almost dancing, really—energy surging through him unexpectedly. The sense of freedom was intoxicating. No looming deadlines. No suffocating pressure. Just the simple, undeniable joy of having completed what had once felt impossible.
But then—
The cashier's words crept back into his thoughts.
The movement stopped.
He let himself fall backward onto the bed, landing in a seated position as the smile slowly faded into a neutral line. His gaze drifted aimlessly across the room, unfocused, as his thoughts began to spiral inward.
What a weird world I'm living in…
So much had happened in a single day that it felt unreal when laid end to end.
Today, a lot of things happened, he thought quietly. I probably should've taken a long break.
A pause.
But instead, I did something… beneficial.
He took a slow breath, testing how he felt.
I don't feel heavy, he realized. My head's clear.
The tension that had once wrapped tightly around his thoughts was gone.
I think the stress from the assignment finally disappeared.
All that remained was the act of submission—simple, mechanical, almost trivial now.
And yet—Her.
That cashier girl…
He frowned faintly.
Or should I call her by her name now? Sarah, was it?
Yes. That felt right.
What did she mean by "Traveler"?
Was it literal? Metaphorical?
Traveling around the country? The world?
His thoughts stalled there, unable to push further.
…Or something else entirely.
She had invited him—no, suggested—to join her tonight. And he had left without another word.
I should've stayed a little longer, he admitted inwardly. At least listened more.
A quiet scoff escaped him.
My curiosity might actually kill me one day.
But even knowing that, he couldn't bring himself to let it go. Forgetting it wasn't an option. He wanted answers—from the beginning, from the very foundation of whatever truth she was standing on.
Maybe… I should go find her tonight.
Ask her everything.
Force her to answer if I have to.
The thought alone made his chest tighten slightly.
Ha…
Thinking about this is bringing the stress back.
I should stop.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, slow and deliberate, allowing himself time to settle. In his mind, he imagined a sky—wide and open, a deep, calming blue stretching endlessly overhead. Soft clouds drifted lazily, sunlight warm and gentle, everything peaceful and distant enough to soothe his thoughts.
Then—
Something felt wrong.
Not wrong in the sense of danger—not immediately. It wasn't the sensation of someone nearby, nor the awareness of movement or sound. It was… emotion.
Strong.
Close.
Too close.
His brow furrowed as he felt it clearly—an unmistakable emotion of excitement, vibrant and alive, brushing against his awareness as though it had always been there.
His eyes snapped open.
Right in front of him—far closer than should have been possible—was a faint, human-shaped figure. A woman, seemingly around his age, leaning in so near that her face was only inches from his. Her features weren't fully clear, as though obscured by a thin veil, but her smile was unmistakable, bright and intent, her eyes locked directly onto his.
He didn't scream.
He didn't jump.
Fear flashed across his expression, sharp and undeniable, yet his body remained almost perfectly still. Only a slight recoil—barely perceptible—betrayed his shock, the frozen stillness of someone who hadn't yet decided whether this was a dream… or something far more real.