Najun is startled by the rabbit woman’s screaming and takes a few steps back. He grips his spear and points it straight forward.

  Najun: “[Did the cleaning spray make her angry?]”

  Her screaming doesn’t stop at all. She doesn’t even attack—she only screams.

  Rabbit Woman: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  She continues her assault. After a short time, she has turned the door into splinters. She can now enter the closet without any difficulty, but she sees no one.

  Rabbit Woman: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah?!”

  The rabbit woman swings her sword wildly, but only strikes empty air. Najun seems to have vanished.

  Najun: “[I hope she doesn’t see me.]”

  Najun has climbed onto one of the shelves and is positioned directly above the rabbit woman. His injured leg makes it hard for him to stay hidden. Blood is even starting to seep from the wound.

  Najun: “[No. Don’t drip down. Don’t drip on her. Please don’t.]”

  The blood runs down his leg. Najun tries to twist his leg to stop the blood drop, but it keeps flowing. It reaches his ankle.

  Najun bites his lower lip and focuses his gaze on his ankle. His fear is almost tangible.

  The blood drips directly onto her hand. Slowly, she looks up and spots Najun.

  Out of fear, Najun lets himself fall. The rabbit woman raises her sword vertically and thrusts upward with great force. While falling, Najun twists his body with a powerful spin and narrowly avoids the upward strike.

  Najun hits the ground but immediately gets back up and runs out of the closet.

  Najun: “I made it!”

  Najun sprints down the hallway toward the stairs. Even though he is limping, he is still faster than expected.

  He overcomes the stairs and is now almost at the exit.

  Najun: “[Mamoru is most likely already dead. I need to get out of the hospital quickly and hide in the forest.]”

  Najun puts on a hopeful expression.

  Suddenly, he feels someone breathing near his left ear. In the next moment, something slices open his back. He stumbles and blood soaks his entire upper body.

  Najun: “So I didn’t escape her after all.”

  The rabbit woman has caught up to Najun and landed a critical hit. The wound on his back is deep and prevents Najun from running or fighting back in any way.

  Najun: “I beg you. Let me live. I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see me again. Please.”

  She doesn’t listen and prepares another sword strike. This time, it is meant to be a killing blow. Najun knows that if nothing stops her attack, this strike will be his fatal end. With wide-open eyes, he watches as she swings her sword toward his neck.

  Najun: “[No. Not yet. Not now and not here.]”

  Before the blade reaches Najun’s neck, something yanks the rabbit woman backward. Confused, she looks behind her and sees a young man in a green ranger uniform.

  Mamoru: “I don’t die from being shoved.”

  Mamoru holds his knife to her throat, but she remains completely calm. She prepares another sword swing, but Mamoru slashes. He completely cuts her throat open.

  Mamoru: “I’m sorry that I have to kill you.”

  Despite her throat being slit, she keeps moving as if nothing happened. Mamoru narrowly dodges her sword strike. He steps back a few paces, his face filled with fear.

  Mamoru: “I slit your throat and you act like nothing happened. Are you even human?”

  The rabbit woman turns again and swings her blade toward Najun’s neck. Najun ducks and tackles her to the ground.

  Najun: “Why do you want to kill me so badly? Why?!”

  He places his hands around the rabbit woman’s neck and slowly begins to choke her. He no longer wants to hear an answer. He knows she has to die if he and Mamoru are to survive—but even a slit throat didn’t kill her, so Najun’s chances are slim.

  The rabbit woman reaches for her sword, but Najun quickly throws it away. He keeps choking her, his hands squeezing her neck like a soaked towel.

  Najun: “Die. Die. Die. Die.”

  The rabbit woman remains completely unfazed. She lies there neutrally, only defending herself with weak strikes and attempts to headbutt Najun. Najun seems physically stronger, but it still isn’t enough to kill her.

  Mamoru: “Najun, that’s enough.”

  Mamoru: “This is no longer self-defense. It’s just cruel. Let’s tie her up or something—I can’t watch this anymore.”

  Najun loosens his grip and takes the rope Mamoru hands him. He tightly binds her wrists and ankles.

  Mamoru: “Your back still needs treatment. Let’s quickly go to the supply room.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Najun: “We can’t just leave her lying here.”

  Mamoru: “True. She doesn’t react aggressively toward me, so I’ll carry her. It’s best if we blindfold her so she can’t see you.”

  They take her with them and leave her lying near the door. She appears unconscious, so they leave her alone.

  Mamoru: “I’m not the best medic, so don’t expect first-class treatment.”

  Najun: “It’s okay. At least there’s treatment.”

  Mamoru’s warning proves accurate, as his medical skills are truly borderline. He uses too many bandages and disinfectants and causes Najun unnecessary pain.

  Mamoru: “I’m really sorry. I can’t do it any better.”

  Najun: “Like I said, it’s fine.”

  Mamoru: “As a ranger, I should be able to do this in my sleep—but I can’t. I still have a lot to learn as a ranger.”

  Najun: “That’s true for every human being. That’s normal.”

  Mamoru: “If I’m already treating someone with high-quality blood, then at least the treatment should be halfway decent.”

  Najun: “You think my blood is high quality?”

  Najun smiles and accepts the strange compliment.

  He watches Mamoru dip his finger into the blood-soaked cloths and lick it. He licks Najun’s blood off his finger.

  Najun: “What did you just do? I’m about to throw up.”

  Mamoru looks at Najun in confusion, his finger still in his mouth.

  Mamoru: “What’s wrong?”

  Najun: “Why are you tasting my blood?”

  Najun’s disgust grows with every second. Even drinking his own blood feels disgusting to him—but drinking someone else’s is something he never thought possible.

  Mamoru: “To determine its quality and value.”

  Najun: “Quality? Value? What are you talking about?”

  Mamoru: “You can learn a lot about a person through the taste of their blood. Primarily, though, it’s for blood analysis. I did taste yours earlier, but it had a strange flavor, so I wanted to try again.”

  Najun turns to face Mamoru directly.

  Najun: “And what is that supposed to be good for?”

  Mamoru: “To find out the magic of your blood. I’m tired of explaining myself over and over—especially for such a fundamental topic.”

  Najun: “That’s not fundamental to me. Please explain it properly.”

  Mamoru puts away the first-aid supplies and clears his throat. He prepares himself like a teacher about to start a lesson.

  Mamoru: “You know that many families nowadays possess magical abilities. They’re called Birth-Ability, Pet, Object, or Protection.”

  Najun: “Yes.”

  Mamoru: “The prestige, wealth, power, and influence of a family determine the strength of its magical abilities. That’s why your family is most likely very strong, while another family that lacks influence and power has weaker abilities and lives under different conditions such as—”

  Najun: “I know. It can also affect the health and life expectancy of family members. Just tell me why you tasted my blood.”

  Mamoru looks surprised and slightly saddened at being interrupted.

  Mamoru: “The Source. Do you know the source of these magical abilities?”

  Najun: “Yes. The Source is the magic in the world that surrounds everything.”

  Mamoru: “Okay—but where does it come from? What form does it take in our world? How is it distributed?”

  Najun stutters and falls silent. He has no idea how to answer these questions. Thinking about it, no one ever seemed to know the answers.

  Mamoru: “That’s what I thought. Blood is the form of magic. It makes sense that blood carries the ‘information’ about all magical abilities of a family. I call these ‘storages,’ or in other words, components of blood: memory particles. They contain information about all magical abilities, but only one can be active in the world at any given time. That’s why two members of the same family can’t use the same magical ability simultaneously. Another abnormality is the crystal in our brain that processes the information of the memory particles.”

  Najun: “So blood has other components besides plasma, white and red blood cells, and so on?”

  Mamoru: “Exactly. Memory particles are also components of blood—at least in magical families.”

  Najun: “Magical families?”

  Mamoru: “If factors like prestige, power, wealth, and influence truly dictated life, half of our country would already be extinct. Instead, it’s explained by whether a family receives hatred, envy, contempt, and so on—or is simply ignored. Families unaffected by such factors have no memory particles in their blood.”

  Najun widens his eyes and presses a hand to his forehead.

  Najun: “I always thought this magic was part of our world. Part of every individual.”

  Mamoru: “No. It’s only a part if one wants it to be. At least, that’s the theory written in my book.”

  Najun: “You got this knowledge from your book?”

  Mamoru: “Yes. It explains things simply—but not completely. I believe there’s still a lot missing before it truly makes sense.”

  Mamoru: “By tasting your blood, I can first determine whether it’s magical at all—whether it has memory particles—and how many. The more there are and the better their structure, the better the taste. The same is said to apply to the brain, but I’m not allowed to verify that. Since yours tasted good, I assume your family holds a high position. But it doesn’t taste as good as my savior’s.”

  Najun: “[He’s definitely talking about the person who gave him the book.]”

  Mamoru: “[Actually, his blood tastes the same as his—but he must never know that. He must not be better than him.]”

  Najun adopts a thoughtful expression.

  Najun: “So that means the number and structure of these particles depend on those factors?”

  Mamoru: “You’ve got it.”

  Najun: “But why? Are these particles natural, or were they given to us? Why do some supposedly have none? Why is a family’s status so important to them?”

  Mamoru: “All of those questions surely have logical answers—but unfortunately, I can’t give them to you.”

  Najun: “Maybe there’s more in your book. Give it to me.”

  Mamoru: “No. Even if I gave it to you, you can’t read.”

  Najun: “Then read me all the parts that are relevant to our topic.”

  Mamoru: “No.”

  Najun: “Why not?”

  Mamoru: “Only I can understand this book. It’s not meant for other eyes, ears, or anything else. I will not read it to you.”

  Najun wants to protest but stops himself. He remembers what happens when someone criticizes this book or its author.

  Najun: “[That’s a lot of new knowledge. If it’s true, it would change a lot. But the origin is still unclear. What could it be?]”

  While thinking, Najun realizes something.

  Najun: “Wait—what about your wounds? They need treatment too. Let me do it.”

  Mamoru: “What are you talking about? I only have a few small scratches.”

  Najun: “Don’t act tough. Even good rangers get injured in a fight.”

  Mamoru: “I’m really not injured. The rabbit woman only reached you because she tackled me so hard earlier that I briefly lost consciousness.”

  Najun insists on checking Mamoru’s entire body. Aside from small scrapes and scratches, he finds nothing unusual.

  Najun: “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Mamoru: “What doesn’t make sense? That I’m strong?”

  Najun: “No. When she was searching for me, her blade was covered in blood—a lot of fresh blood. She only hit me afterward. If she didn’t cut you, whose blood was on her sword?”

  Mamoru: “Good question.”

  Both look toward the place where they left the rabbit woman—but no one is there.

  Mamoru jumps up and immediately looks into the entrance hall.

  Mamoru: “Where is the woman?”

  Najun searches as well, but she’s gone.

  Najun: “We got too absorbed in talking, and she escaped. How stupid can we be?”

  Mamoru: “As if she’d be good enough to slip away right under our noses.”

  Najun: “Apparently, she is.”

  Both grab their heads and stomp the floor hard. They’re disappointed in their own carelessness.

  The rabbit woman truly managed to escape during a moment of inattention. She has found a kind of private room within the hospital, retreating there whenever necessary.

  She changes her kimono and cleans her blade. The room is very small and dark. There’s no window or anything resembling an entrance. It’s a completely sealed space.

  She plays with four small rabbits—two large and two small ones. She even lets out a kind of giggle. Then she picks up her sword again and stabs it into the wall.

  Many photographs are pinned there. In the one she stabs, a boy can be seen. A familiar boy.

  She stabs a photo of Najun from when he was younger.