Meanwhile, elsewhere.
Gin—disguised as the muscle-bound Rico—couldn’t outrun Abel. Even after bolting three kilometers ahead, he was pinned to the ground by Abel.
"Tch! Just as I thought. A fake."
Abel’s expression showed no surprise. He pressed the Demon Claw against Gin’s head and interrogated him.
"Onassis Clan. Did your young mistress think her phantom thief game was amusing? What was her goal in luring me out?"
"Hmph!"
Gin snorted coldly and clamped his mouth shut. As Rora’s sworn shadow, he’d gladly die to delay this Hunter’s return.
"Whatever. You won’t talk anyway."
Abel sighed, staring at the cross-dressing freak before him. His stomach churned violently.
*Seriously eye-searing.*
"Radiant Sun Hunter Abel. How utterly foolish."
Knowing death was near, Gin relished the chance to taunt him. "Facing an enemy without gathering a shred of intel first?"
"My enemy? Rico? She’s no threat."
Abel frowned, confused. *What enemy?*
"Not our young mistress. Though she’s likely succeeded by now. This spot’s nearly ten kilometers from your original position. You’ll need time to get back."
Gin had bought enough distance.
But not nearly enough for Abel.
"Oh?" Abel tied Gin up, hoisting him onto a tree branch. The city guards would deal with this cross-dressing freak later. As for himself…
Before Gin’s disbelieving eyes, Abel pulled out a teleportation scroll—the matching pair to the one hidden under Shea’s mattress.
Chasing this fake Rico so eagerly? All to lull the *real* Rico into complacency. If she was still in Shea’s bedroom, he’d catch her red-handed.
A flash of white light—and Abel vanished.
The dutiful black-clad agent immediately sliced his ropes with a sleeve blade and barked into his walkie-talkie:
"Young mistress! This Hunter has teleportation magic! Run!"
"Already evacuated, Gin. Prepare the Shadow Guard. Purge Vag City’s Tide Cultists. Leave no survivors."
Rora’s icy tone cut through the scorching heat, making Gin shudder.
*When this young mistress gets angry… it’s terrifying.*
---
"*Yaaawn*... Three PM already?"
Shea stirred awake, rubbing her eyes. She rolled over, eyelids drooping again. An unusual exhaustion clung to her today.
*Overworked yesterday?*
No. She’d bounced back from worse injuries before.
She touched her forehead.
"Not even feverish..."
Could it be mana depletion aftereffects?
She tried practicing Spirit Form. Becoming a Crescent Moon Rank mage felt within reach.
But her magic circuits sputtered like rusted gears.
*Weird... Ugh!*
As she forced another spell, bone-chilling agony ripped through her chest, arms, and abdomen. Her face twisted in pain.
*Why?*
Yesterday’s memory flashed—Nellie’s grim expression. That wasn’t "nothing."
Shea wasn’t stupid. She’d seen through Nellie’s kind lie.
*What’s wrong with my body?*
Calm down. Breathe. She probed her body with mana. It felt like her first clumsy magic attempt—only worse.
Before she could dig deeper, the bed dipped under sudden weight.
Eyes snapping open, she found Abel lying beside her. She shot upright, shrieking:
"RICO!"
"Rico my ass! What are you doing in my bed, you pervert Hunter?!"
She hadn’t processed anything—just realized they shared the same blanket.
"Huh? Rico’s gone?"
"Forget Rico! Explain why you’re in my bed first, Perverse Hunter!" Shea’s eye twitched. "Didn’t someone swear they’d be struck by lightning if they climbed in?"
"Uh... Shea, it’s a misunderstanding! I’m innocent!"
Abel floundered, explaining everything. He hadn’t planned this!
"So you hid the teleport scroll under my mattress... to catch Rico?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
"Damn it! Anywhere else in this room?! The wardrobe’s perfect! Under the bed fits you! Hell, hang from the ceiling—what hangs above never looks down!"
Shea’s rant left Abel hands-up in surrender. *Why’s she so fluent in hiding spots?*
Her outburst made her forget her pain—for now. But her throat burned dry.
"Abel. Water."
"Yes!"
He scrambled off the bed, sprinting to the kitchen.
"*Sigh*..." Shea flopped back. She looked furious, but honestly? Barely bothered.
*Just get struck by lightning already... Lightning strike...*
Okay, maybe a little.
Muttering, she pulled the blanket up to cover half her face, staring at the ceiling.
Abel returned with a glass, placing it within her reach.
"Drink."
"Mhm."
She sat up, draining the warm water in one gulp.
Abel watched her carefully. "How’s your body? Any better?"
"Not great. But I can manage daily life. Abel... my condition isn’t what Nellie claimed, is it?"
*Here it comes.*
Abel stiffened. He knew she’d realize soon—but not this fast.
"I know my own body," Shea said flatly, cradling the empty glass. "Just tell me the truth. No lies." Her eyes locked onto his. "Because if you lie... I’ll be very angry."
