When Carola returned to the bakery, Yihan was nervously busy behind the counter.

He was fine-tuning a lemon soda—a new recipe requiring precise measurements. Every drop of juice, pinch of sugar, and burst of soda had to be exact.

Expanding the shop meant more than just bread. With the manager’s approval, he’d begun crafting his first dish in this new world.

The store was quiet. Carola glided to the counter, sat gracefully with her legs tucked together, slender calves swaying gently beneath snow-pale skin. Her delicate feet dangled, petite and soft.

A bubbling, strange-looking drink appeared before her. Its lemon-yellow hue made her blink, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Try it?” The boy sat across from her, eyebrows raised in a playful challenge. His smile remained effortlessly bright.

Carola flashed a bewitching smile, lifted the glass, and took a small sip. Her brow furrowed slightly.

An odd taste. Sweet and tart, tingling on the tongue like swallowing a bolt of lightning. It slid swiftly down her throat, leaving a fizzy urge to burp.

Honestly? It was delicious.

Seeing her nod, Yihan couldn’t hide his delight. *Success.* He silently thanked his past self for those grueling shifts at the bubble tea shop.

“This one’s on me,” he joked. “You’re the first person in this world to taste my handmade drink.”

“It’d be better chilled.”

“I’ve thought the same. Pity we’ve no ice here.”

Carola smiled without reply. Her fingers closed around the glass. She swirled it gently. Frost spread visibly from her fingertips, crawling up the cup’s surface until tiny ice crystals bloomed across the walls. Inside, ice cubes clinked softly against the glass.

Yihan watched the near-magical display with envy. No need to ask—he knew this was the world’s magic. To him, it was just another superpower, the kind he’d always craved while watching mutant movies.

His own “power” was limited to vivid dreams. Next to Carola’s, it felt utterly worthless.

He wiped the counter with a towel, mood dampened. “You vanished earlier. Urgent business?”

“You noticed I was gone?”

“A stunning girl disappearing out of thin air? Hard not to notice.” Yihan shrugged. Though her lingering stares had made him uneasy before, he couldn’t deny her beauty. Just sitting there, she’d drawn crowds—and customers—to the bakery. After she left, business had plummeted, leaving him with this quiet lull.

Carola’s laughter crinkled her eyes into crescent moons. She knew her allure, her flawless figure. She’d heard endless compliments, but none had ever warmed her heart like this.

The realization hit her—and with it, her companions’ warnings. Her mood dimmed. She drained the soda in one gulp and gathered her thoughts.

“My comrades found me earlier. They said… the Crimson Flame Witch is nearing the Springwater Kingdom.”

Yihan’s wiping stilled.

“…Couldn’t stop her?” After a pause, he kept scrubbing, head lowered.

“She evaded us. We lost her trail. But she’s dangerously close to the kingdom now.”

“Why tell *me* this?”

“So you’re prepared. She’s burned entire towns. Windmill Town might be next.”

“Then warn the mayor! Warn everyone! Why tell only *me*?”

Yihan stopped moving entirely. He sat across from her, eyes locked onto hers—anger simmering beneath a layer of wounded pride.

Carola stared at his face. For a heartbeat, his features overlapped with another’s in her memory: a face now gone, now pale and still. She nearly reached out.

Reason reclaimed her. The Witch Hunter gave a self-deprecating laugh, her voice weathered. “Because you remind me of someone.”

“Who?” Yihan asked, though he knew it shouldn’t matter.

“I never learned his name. He wouldn’t tell me. We weren’t together long… but I gave him something precious.” Carola closed her eyes, sinking into old memories. “After it ended, I never saw him again. Five years of searching… nothing. He’s probably gone.”

Yihan listened quietly. A sad story. Her words hinted she’d once belonged to another man.

A strange, tangled feeling stirred in his chest. *One night and a day together, and I’m already…?* He scolded himself inwardly for being so quick to fall.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He mixed her another lemon soda.

Carola shook her head with a bitter smile. “My unit still hunts the Crimson Flame Witch. Battle will come soon. I can’t promise this town won’t become a battlefield. Leave. Go far away. Stay hidden until it’s over.”

Yihan didn’t answer. He just looked at her deeply, shook his head, and gathered his towel.

*Leave?* Where would he go? No savings. No friends. All he owned here was a garden and a villa—neither portable. Should he abandon everything for a disaster that might never come?

He’d rather take a gamble. Bet the Crimson Flame Witch would fall before reaching the kingdom’s borders.

Seeing his resolve, Carola cradled the icy glass, stroking her dark blue hair again and again.

She’d planned to propose using him as bait—to ask his consent. But the moment she saw him again, the words twisted into pleas for him to run, to hide somewhere safe until danger passed.

She knew it betrayed her fellow Witch Hunters. Yet she couldn’t stop herself.

The thought of the Crimson Flame Witch descending on this town—flames and scorching winds reducing everything to ash—filled her with dread.

True, the witch hadn’t killed anyone yet, only burning buildings and scarring foes. But who could trust that wasn’t a mask? Crossing an entire continent just to find *him*… How deep must her obsession with Yihan run?

Rumors said witches were superstitious. What if she believed Yihan was her destined destroyer? Who could unravel the truth?

Carola was terrified. She refused to forget the man from five years ago—but she’d already lost him.

Now she’d found another boy who stirred the same feelings… only to have a witch mark him for death.

She knew it was just transference. A way to pour her loneliness and longing into a new vessel.

What Yihan would never know: every time Carola looked at him, her heart whispered—

*If only he were that person.*