He could even pinpoint my past-life name—pretending ignorance was useless now. Was this what they called fate throwing enemies together?

"Freeze! I suggest you behave. Or this dagger might just send you packing again."

The girl behind me suddenly pressed a blade to my throat. I’d lived peacefully in the human realm with no enemies—this confirmed she was my past-life killer… the Champion?

"Take it easy. We’ll talk at the hospital. You’re injured—don’t push it."

I gently squeezed her ankle. She dug her nails into my shoulder and dragged the dagger across my throat.

"Damn it! That hurts! Why’d you pinch my foot?"

"You’re insufferable! Good thing Dragon Scales coated my neck. A normal person would be dead! Pretty face, ugly attitude!"

"Don’t call me cute! I’m the Champion! The dragon-slayer Reinhardt!"

"Sure, *Reinhardt*. But this life, you’re just a clumsy girl. Stop acting up, or I’ll dump you in that flowerbed and make you Uber to the ER."

A mundane dagger couldn’t pierce me. Even at thirty percent of my past power, my Dragon Scales were unbreakable—unless blessed by both a Celestial and an elf.

Seeing her attack fail, the reincarnated Champion quieted. Plotting my death, no doubt. But I’d handle whatever came. How hard could taming a girl fresh with past-life memories be?

Our wounds were minor, so the doctor gave us a private room and ointment before leaving. Perfect. I had questions for her (him?).

"Explain. Why’s an otherworldly Champion here?"

*You* should explain first, rude Doom Dragon. Why are *you* here?"

That’s my line.

"The ointment’s on your bedside table. Apply it yourself."

"I’m the patient. Aren’t you supposed to help?"

Unbelievable. Minutes ago she wanted me dead; now she expected servant duty. Did she think the world revolved around her?

"Take off your tights."

"Huh?" She shrank back against the bed. "Pervert?"

"Hardly! *You* asked for help. What’s on your mind?"

Blushing, she peeled off her tights. Her swollen ankle peeked out. She stretched her leg toward me, cheeks flushed, yet held herself like a queen on her throne—as if ready to shove her foot in my mouth.

Too bad I’m a gentleman, not a creep. Not into feet anyway. Touching a near-stranger’s foot? Unthinkable. I’d do it only to bury our past and start fresh. Her thoughts were hers alone.

"How old are you?"

"Asking a lady’s age is rude!"

"So you admit you’re a girl."

"You—! Fifteen. Problem?"

Younger than me. Only the Father God could bridge dimensions. Was He bored with me here and sent the Champion as entertainment?

"Back to business. Why are you here? Planning to destroy the world again?"

"Relax. I’m past that edgy phase. Enjoying life beats wrecking it. Illusory World couldn’t contain my dragon soul anymore—that’s why I reincarnated here. But you? A mere human. Illusory World should’ve held you fine."

"I—I…" Her face darkened. Bad memories?

"Never mind. You just regained your memories. Let’s live our lives separately. Treat last life like a movie you watched."

She slammed her fist into the nightstand. Cracks spiderwebbed across the wood.

"How can I laugh it off like a movie? You don’t understand my pain!"

"Are you insane? This is public property! You’ll pay for it! Tch—your hand’s bleeding. Get on my back. I’m taking you to get bandaged."

"No!"

I scooped her up princess-style before she could protest.

"Put me down! If not for you, I wouldn’t be like this! Without you, I’d never remember those horrors!"

She buried her face in my chest. Muffled sobs soaked through my thin shirt.

"Look at kids these days. So reckless at their age."

"Yeah. Poor girl’s crying, and he’s manhandling her."

"Men. All they think with is below the belt."

…

Holy shit. They think I’m dragging my girlfriend to an abortion clinic. Move. *Now*.

"What happened? You just left, and now fresh injuries?"

"Heh. Accidents happen."

"Accidents? These are impact wounds. You didn’t—"

"Doctor, no misunderstandings! I’m just a passerby who brought her here. I’m leaving."

"Waaah! If not for you, this wouldn’t have happened! And now you’re ditching me like a stranger?"

Fine. I *did* trigger her memories. But could she phrase it less scandalously? Doctor, put that phone down! I’m not here for an abortion—don’t call the cops! Let’s talk!