Night draped its cloak, and moonlight slipped out from behind black clouds; the evening breeze brushed by, rolling a few empty cans like tin leaves.
The clearing lay silent, human voices gone; only a stray cat’s cry stitched through the dark like a thin thread.
People didn’t know, and wouldn’t know—their patch of pure land was already stained red, like petals dipped in dye.
They lived in sweetness, blind to the shadows; the sin had been shouldered by someone behind the curtain.
In the dark world, there’s no absolute justice; evil blurs like ink in water.
These folks fight only to carve a foothold, like blades etching stone.
The girl fixed her gaze on the youth; dread tightened first, then her feet slid back a few steps.
Her fingers clamped around her staff like a lifeline.
“I set foot in Japan, and someone tries to kill me. Talk about lousy luck.”
Sham gave herself a dry, self-mocking smile, brittle as frost.
“Hand over the Artifact Spirit, and I might consider letting you walk.”
The youth twirled a dagger in each hand, voice slick as oil.
“Back in England, nobody cared about this thing. Why is Japan suddenly obsessed?”
Sham flashed a false smile; suspicion pricked first, then she weighed his motive like a merchant reading scales.
“We’re not the Magic Institution. We know this thing pays big, even if it’s a risky investment.”
His grin glinted, like a blade catching moonlight.
“So that’s it. A splinter from the Underworld?”
Her tone fell cold, like dew on steel.
“What’s your answer then, Witch’s agent?”
His brows rose, a mockery like smoke.
“My answer’s no.”
Sham cut clean, no courtesy; Mystic Power surged like a tide, and a rain of needles fell like cold sleet.
“You choose the hard way then!”
The youth whipped his daggers, lining them in the air to collide like a row of sharp stars.
Boom!
A violent blast tore across the ground like thunder rolling through stone.
Sham threw everything she had, yet the stalemate held like two locked storms.
Hours bled away since their first standoff, sand draining through an unseen glass.
Even if she kept him at bay, Mystic Power runs dry like a well in drought.
She wasn’t built for long bouts, and nameless foes demand caution like wolves in fog.
Fatigue gnawed at body and spirit, teeth cold as winter.
Fighting him was easy; escaping under his eyes was hard, like breaking nets in a current.
Soon she was panting, her energy nearly spent, breath a rough bellows.
The youth’s grin spread; victory felt close enough to taste, like iron on the tongue.
Far down the road, a figure you couldn’t tell boy or girl walked this way, pace steady as a drifting cloud.
After packing her bags, Yun Shi had planned to move; a small delay pushed her into the midnight, hurrying with luggage like a snail with a shell.
She didn’t know what road she was stepping onto, only that it felt like a fork in mist.
“What’s that… a Mystic Power ripple?”
Confusion pricked first, then her Underworld experience tingled; strange traces tainted the air like smoke.
A hunch bloomed like a red flower; she quickened her pace, feet soft as wind.
Luck or trouble, Yun Shi slipped unhindered right into their battlefield, like a leaf drawn to a whirlpool.
“Who’s there!”
The youth reacted first, his shout snapping like a whip.
Sham saw the newcomer didn’t look like enemy or ally; doubt stirred like dust.
Soon she sensed this girl might be from the Outer World, her presence clean as rain.
“This isn’t your place. Move!”
Her warning rushed out like a gust.
“The Underworld…?”
Thought tugged first; Yun Shi hadn’t expected to bump into its shadows after so long, like meeting an old storm.
“Don’t care who you are. You’ve seen us, so you don’t get to keep your life!”
His words were knives, thrown with a grin.
“No need for that. I knew long ago, okay.”
Yun Shi’s tone was bored, like rain tapping a window.
His near brain-dead bravado made her helpless; why are small fries this dumb these days, like chicks pecking a tiger?
“Danger!”
Sham’s voice sliced in; Yun Shi looked up, and a dagger was already arcing toward her like a falling star.
Clang!
Training since childhood steadied her bones; this kid stuff was easy.
She dropped low, palms to the ground, legs flicking like twin whips, and she knocked the strike aside.
“How is this possible… Who are you!”
Shock cracked his voice like ice.
“Just someone passing by… maybe.”
Yun Shi dusted her hands, casual as drifting ash; the swagger only protagonists wear didn’t scare him—it stoked his anger like tinder.
“Could she be Underworld…”
Sham had a rough guess; showing up at this hour, moving unhurried—she wasn’t normal, like a hawk in night wind.
“You only blocked one move. Don’t get cocky!”
He rallied his energy; a row of blades floated around him like a circle of cold moons, all aiming at Yun Shi.
Swish—
The knives lunged like a flock of metal birds.
Yun Shi twisted and slipped away, weaving through the storm like water through reeds.
Even she couldn’t move freely in that knife-dance; edges sang around her like a chorus of glass.
Sweat beaded on her brow in moments, glittering like dew.
“Few stay safe under my art. No matter your skill, you won’t escape!”
He laughed, loud and manic, like thunder without rain.
“Run!”
Guilt knotted first; Sham’s heart clenched seeing Yun Shi dragged in like a moth to flame.
She burned to charge in, blood up like fire.
But her strength was ash; a rash move was suicide, like stepping off a cliff.
No way left?
Yun Shi knew her spot; no time to think—she chose, clean as a cut.
Energy poured out; blood-red aura wrapped her like silk, and her eyes stained crimson.
In that alluring instant, red shadows flashed like petals, and every blade clattered down like hailstones.
His eyes widened, white around the iris.
No time to recover; Yun Shi was already in his face, a scarlet blur.
Thud!
She kicked him without mercy, sent him flying like a tossed doll.
She vanished, then reappeared behind him before he landed, stamping another kick like a hammer.
Thump, thump, thump—the beating rolled on like drums.
He spat blood, pain wracking him like waves.
“You asked for this.”
Her voice was cold, like frost underfoot.
He refused the beating, rage flaring; he slashed for her, energy turning feral like wildfire.
Yun Shi stayed unmoved, calm under his frenzy, a lake under wind.
Her figure went spectral; you saw her trace, not her body—blood-red afterimages drifted around him like fireflies.
He’d burned stamina on Sham; now Yun Shi drained the rest like a siphon.
His energy thinned with every breath, like smoke fading.
“So strong…”
Shock was all Sham had left; she’d never heard of someone this powerful in the Underworld, a legend walking in flesh.
Who was she? Sham needed to know, curiosity coiling like a snake.
Thump!
At some point, Yun Shi had slid a blade into his body; blood spilled bright, a sudden bloom.
He coughed black blood, and turned to that cold girl like a man facing winter.
“Blood Pupil…”
Fear finally lived in his eyes, a shadow in glass.
“The Quadra Eye Family’s secret art…”
He forced out the name, words heavy as lead.
“Are you… the Quadra Eye’s… Yuuya…”
The name hung like a bell.
Cold sweat slid down Sham’s spine; Yuuya of the Quadra Eye—an Underworld powerhouse, a storm in human skin.
Could she be—
“No. You’ve got the wrong person.”
Yun Shi said it coolly, then drove the blade in again like a nail.
He gagged on pain, breath rattling like loose doors.
She stabbed a few more times; blood splashed the ground like spilled paint.
He fell, his life ending in a crimson pool, moonlight trembling on it.
Yun Shi felt nothing; she let the blade drop and stepped over the corpse like a shadow crossing stone.
She’d killed before; habit held her hands like iron.
This past year, she hadn’t spared Underworld foes; blood had kept tally better than she did.
Either way, she wasn’t returning to the old her—bridge burned, ash cold.
She straightened her bags and turned to go, not sparing Sham a glance; saving her had been incidental, a passing breeze.
But Sham wouldn’t waste the chance; she had to know who Yun Shi was, curiosity biting like frost.
“Um… are you Yuuya of the Quadra Eye?”
“No.”
“Then what’s with that ability?”
“None of your business.”
“Hey, hey, what’s your name?”
“Not telling. Move.”
“Don’t be so stingy. I didn’t know the Underworld had someone as strong as you.”
“So what.”
Annoyance spiked first; this girl had attached herself like burrs.
Damn it—if not for stumbling by, Yun Shi wouldn’t have meddled at all.
“I’m home. Don’t follow. Go back to your place now, got it?”
Her last warning was a cold wind; she didn’t look back, heading for the apartment she’d rented today.
“One last question—are you male or female?”
Pfft!
The question almost choked Yun Shi; she wanted to answer “male,” but reality is a sharp blade.
And she didn’t want to say anything—silence was simpler, like a shut door.
“None of your business.”
She tossed the final line, opened the door, and went inside to unpack, the room swallowing her like a cave.
Sham was left outside, face stiff with frustration; thick-skinned as she was, she wouldn’t give up so easily.
“No helping it. I’ll try a different approach.”
She fell into thought, plotting like a sparrow eyeing grain.
