Liam's consciousness snapped into Shizuku's body.
He was sitting on a toilet. Pants around ankles. Holding a freshly opened pack of sanitary pads.
Oh.
Oh no.
"I didn't expect I'd get to experience menstruation in this lifetime," Liam thought distantly, his brain trying to process the situation. "This is amazing. Truly. Just fantastic."
A questioning presence stirred in the back of his mind. Shizuku's own consciousness, confused by the sudden intrusion.
Liam coughed mentally and cleared his throat. "Uh. Well. Um. Drink more hot water?"
The confusion in Shizuku's mind deepened.
"I thought you were injured!" Liam said quickly, trying to salvage the situation. "When I sensed the Star Mark activate, I came over to check. I didn't expect this to be the case." He laughed awkwardly. "I don't know how to use these things, so I won't disturb you. When you're done, let's chat on the phone instead."
Okay, Shizuku replied simply.
Liam immediately released control, letting his consciousness retreat like water draining from a sink. Shizuku's awareness surged back to the surface, reclaiming her body. Her senses returned to normal. She was still sitting on the toilet. Her hands still held the package of pads. Nothing had physically changed, but the intrusion was over.
Shizuku quickly dealt with her personal situation, pulled up her pants, and went back to her room. She slipped Ring B onto her finger, picked up her phone, sat on the edge of the bed, and called Liam.
"You know," Liam said when he answered, "Nen users have stronger recovery than normal people, right? So theoretically, female Nen users should have an easier time during their periods than ordinary women."
He was still in his train compartment, sitting cross-legged on the narrow bed. Outside the window, the Mimbo Republic's countryside rolled past in shades of green and brown.
"I don't know," Shizuku said.
"You don't—" Liam stopped. Right. She'd already been a Nen user when she had her first period. She had no baseline to compare it to.
He leaned back against the wall, thinking. Menstruation was just the body shedding its uterine lining after a failed pregnancy preparation cycle. Basic biology. But if the Star Mark's healing ability accelerated recovery, would that cause problems? Liam wasn't a doctor, but he had a nagging feeling that the Star Mark didn't heal in the simple, straightforward way most people would assume.
Because it didn't just heal injuries.
It restored stamina. It dispelled fatigue. Liam had been training brutally for over two months now, and he knew for certain that the Star Mark was the only reason he hadn't collapsed. Without it, his practice regimen would've been impossible. He'd have burned out within a week.
But was stamina restoration really "healing"? That seemed like a stretch.
So maybe the Star Mark didn't heal injuries specifically. Maybe it just restored the bearer's body to a healthy state, whatever that meant for them.
"Liam?" Shizuku's voice cut through his thoughts.
Liam smiled. "Oh, I was just thinking. Maybe I should add another nickname. 'Women's Friend.' Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"Also," he continued, "I think we need to study the Star Mark's healing ability more carefully. What are its limits? Can it cure poisoning? What about mental disorders? Where does the healing power even come from? Is it really the bearer's aura? And what's the cost? Are there side effects if the Star Mark interferes with your menstrual cycle?"
Everything had been reasonable until that last sentence. Shizuku sat on the edge of the bed, processing the question. She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen, then shifted it to the base of her left thigh where the Star Mark rested under her clothes.
"There shouldn't be side effects, right?" she said slowly.
She thought about it for a moment longer. "At least it feels better than before."
"Speaking of which," Liam mused, "when did I put the Star Mark on you? Have we even known each other a full month yet?"
They talked until lunch time.
Liam grabbed a quick meal in the train's dining car—some kind of fried rice dish that tasted vaguely of soy sauce and regret—and returned to his compartment to continue training. There wasn't much else to do.
According to his itinerary, this train would arrive at the next station around two or three in the afternoon. Then he'd have to transfer again. And again. And at some point he'd need to take a ferry across a river. All told, it would take another three or four days to reach the country where Heavens Arena was located.
It was a long road.
Time crawled forward. Liam sat perfectly still, wrapped in Ken, aura burning steadily around his body. An hour passed. Then another.
When the train finally began to slow, approaching the station, Liam opened his eyes and exhaled.
"It takes at least an hour and a half now to complete a full Ken session and drain all my aura," he muttered to himself. "And the more my total capacity grows, the longer it takes. When I'm traveling like this, how am I supposed to find two or three hours of uninterrupted practice time?"
And more importantly, how was he supposed to completely exhaust his aura reserves when he didn't have someone watching his back? Draining himself to zero was the most efficient training method, sure, but it also left him completely vulnerable. No aura meant no defense. No defense meant any random mugger with a knife could end him.
"In martial arts stories," Liam grumbled, "meditation counts as rest. The more you meditate, the more energized you feel. But Nen users? We have to drain ourselves to empty every single time for maximum efficiency. One part suffering, one part progress. Fair exchange, sure, but it's also exhausting."
He stood, stretching the stiffness out of his legs, and grabbed his backpack.
When he picked up his phone, he noticed several text messages from Shizuku.
The first one: "I'm fine."
Five minutes later: "Is Liam practicing?"
Then: "I'll start practicing too."
Liam focused on the distant connection through the Star Mark. As expected, he couldn't sense it anymore. She'd finished her session, and the Star Mark's passive healing had deactivated.
He typed a reply with one hand while squeezing through the crowded train car. "Yeah. But without you watching, I don't dare exhaust all my aura. It feels too dangerous!"
Liam thought about the three or four days of train transfers still ahead of him and felt a spike of irritation. This was going to be tedious.
He put away his phone and disembarked.
The station was one of those mid-sized regional hubs that serviced a dozen small towns. Nothing special. Liam followed the flow of passengers toward the exit, already planning his next move.
He needed to explore the area. Maybe find a sporting goods store. See if they sold parachutes or hang gliders or anything that could speed up travel. This whole train-hopping routine was getting old fast.
The city outside was unfamiliar. Generic. Liam grabbed a tourist map from an information kiosk and pulled out his phone to cross-reference. The noise of traffic and pedestrians washed over him—honking horns, shouting vendors, the rattle of a passing streetcar.
Then he stopped.
A chill spiked through his chest. Hot and cold at the same time, like ice water mixed with battery acid.
Death energy.
Liam froze mid-step, lowering the map. He glanced around. Ordinary commercial street. Clothing stores. Restaurants. A pharmacy. No hospitals. No slaughterhouses. Nothing that would explain the sensation.
He followed the direction the death energy had come from, tucking the map into his pocket. His feet carried him down a side street, then into a narrow alley between two buildings. The noise of the main road faded. His ears twitched. He cycled a small amount of aura into his hearing, sharpening it.
Voices. Muffled. Coming from around the corner a few meters ahead.
"—the Ten Dons won't tolerate—"
"—doesn't matter. The Family has already—"
"—Shadow Beasts will handle it—"
Liam's footsteps faltered.
The whispers cut off immediately.
A deep, suspicious voice echoed down the alley. "Who's there?"
Somewhere on the Sahams Continent, in a different city entirely, Chrollo Lucilfer lowered the phone from his ear. He turned to face the room, his expression calm and neutral.
"Kortopi is dead."
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