Crossbows are incredibly powerful weapons, their might surpassing even some firearms.

Using one is more covert than guns—silent, precise, and letting you easily control the bolt's path. Special arrows can pierce wind to kill prey in one shot.

Staring at the arrowhead mere half an inch from his left eye, Zeming knew this well.

"How could something like this work on me?"

Catching it was as simple as grabbing a tossed toy ball. He just raised his hand slightly and snagged the arrow before it pierced his eye.

A tiny thrill shot through him—his body was finally responding.

Glancing around after grabbing it, the masked man vanished. Only empty, untouched grass remained. That guy...

"Ouch!"

Zeming suddenly felt palm pain. He dropped the arrow in shock, staring at his hand.

His skin peeled like it was dipped in acid. Beneath, bright red vein-like machinery showed—exposed to air, it wasn't good.

Instinctively, he leaped sideways, rolling to a new spot.

Two more arrows now stuck where he'd stood, oozing a foul stench.

"What is this? What a disgusting trick."

He turned in disbelief. Just as his gaze hit the building, a figure in a window aimed a crossbow. More arrows followed.

Time felt... too slow to catch up.

Pierced by that force, Zeming crashed down. His head smacked the ground. All three arrows hit.

Lying there, gazing at the hazy sky, he wondered at his sluggishness. What's wrong with me?

His vision blurred slightly. His arm throbbed fiercely. The enemy's weapon was sharp, but he shouldn't be this weak.

Whoosh————————

This was annoying. He needed to get home early to cook tonight. Such a hassle.

The screech stopped. Zeming stood now, another arrow in his hand.

Skin on his palm healed bit by bit. His body recovered. Just three arrows in his arm—better than in his heart.

"Hey... seriously? Playing dirty?"

Before him, landmines dotted the grass like radishes poking up. Waiting for him to step?

He didn't know how the guy set them instantly. But that bastard was in the teaching building ahead. He had to go.

"Have you all gone mad? I'm just a poor worker—no pay on the job, no pension after retirement. And now you drag me back out? Are you doing this to hassle me?"

Zeming used to have two principles. Now he had three.

He raised his left arm, shirt lifting. His belt was already fastened. In a sprinter's stance, he flipped its switch.

First: never do anything that irritates me.

Second: recklessly unleashing power is the worst.

Third: anyone who delays my daughter, hurts her, or makes her cry—I'll beat them to death.

"Listen, you've really picked the wrong person this time."

I don't know your plans, but don't do anything extreme.

——————Kindergarten

"What do you think about that new student?"

"The cute silver-haired girl? Her mom's a beauty too."

"Oh, her? Super adorable. Her mom's stunning. Such a lovely family."

"But I feel something's off about her."

"How so?"

"She never cries, always smiles. Seems cheerful, but isn't it weird? Everyone adores her—as if drawn to her. Even our crybabies and clueless boys act nice around her, no pranks."

"True, but isn't that just charm?"

"Who knows... it feels unreal."

"You know, you're strange."

Today, Vivian crouched at a table reading a book when called out.

The girl before her was slightly taller, with short orange hair, a lively face, and a smile hiding something.

She stared at Vivian's book—not a fairy tale, but a thick, dog-eared dictionary, clearly well-read.

"Am I strange?"

"A little. Maybe you haven't noticed. That book... can you really understand all of it?"

"Pretty much."

Hearing this, the girl sat beside Vivio.

They faced each other across the table.

"Haven't you wondered why everyone likes you?"

Vivian shook her head, her pure gaze uncaring.

"I don't know."

"It's fine. That's your nature. Cherish it, okay?"

She held Vivian's hand, smiling warmly.

"We're different. But you have things I don't. Cherishing them makes you strong. Keep it up."

"Hmm... Vivian doesn't understand. What are you saying, sister?"

Only then did Vivian notice—the girl wore pure white clothes, clean and spotless, not kindergarten uniform.

"What I said, you'll understand later. But figure it out yourself first. My best advice: don't do anything foolish. Remember that."

................

"Vivian, what's wrong?"

A young teacher knelt beside her, worriedly feeling her forehead.

"Talking to the sister in white clothes."

"Talking? But there's no one there!"

The teacher scanned the room in horror. No girl in white stood there.

"Huh?"