Cassian walked through the streets of Leefside, a satisfied smile on her face.
Finally. FINALLY.
She had officially completed a quest. She was now confirmed D-rank. Not just on paper—really confirmed.
Of course, it took me four tries. Three failures for one success.
Her smile turned into a grimace.
It’s like the world is mocking me. “Oh, you wanted to do it solo to go faster? Here, take four times longer than in a group.” Fucking irony.
She stopped for a moment, remembering the three failed quests.
The boars. The delivery that turned into a chase with bandits. And the hostage situation that…
No. We’re not thinking about that.
Splat.
Something fell right in front of her.
Cassian looked down.
Bird shit. White. Fresh. Literally fifteen centimeters from her foot.
She blinked.
If I’d taken one more step…
A strange premonition washed over her. Without thinking, she stepped to the side.
Splat.
Another bird shit landed exactly where she’d been standing a second ago.
Cassian narrowed her eyes, slowly looking up.
Several pigeons. Perched on the edge of a roof. One of them—a big one, with slightly darker feathers—was staring at her intensely.
Their gazes met.
Is this bird… challenging me?
The pigeon didn’t blink. Neither did Cassian.
Ten seconds passed.
The rest of the pigeon flock flew off, disappearing into the sky.
The big pigeon waited. Looked at Cassian for a few more seconds. Then slowly looked away—as if deliberately deciding to leave—and followed the others.
Cassian smiled arrogantly. Yeah. It got scared. Good.
Even birds recognize my superiority.
Loud voices caught her attention.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Three men and a woman stood near a market stall. The men—clearly drunk or close to it—were surrounding the woman uncomfortably.
“Come on, just one drink!” one of them insisted, a skinny guy.
“I already refused,” the woman said firmly. “Several times. Leave me alone.”
“We just want to chat!” added another, broader one.
Cassian watched the scene.
Not my problem.
She started to turn away.
The third man—the one in the middle—stepped closer, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“Why are you playing hard to get? We’re nice guys.”
The woman backed up. “Remove your hand.”
“Or what?”
Crash.
The woman’s foot shot out, hitting the man directly in the groin.
“AAAAAARGH!”
He collapsed to his knees, hands pressed against his lower abdomen, face twisted in pure agony.
His two friends backed away instantly, eyes wide.
Cassian ran.
Not toward the woman. Toward the man.
She knelt beside him, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?!”
The man whimpered pathetically, unable to speak.
“That’s horrible,” Cassian murmured, her voice full of genuine concern. “Breathe. Breathe slowly.”
That pain. I KNOW that pain.
The first time it happened to me—an accidental kick during a school soccer game—I thought I was going to die. I literally wished even my worst enemy never had to endure that.
She looked up at the woman, her expression shifting from concern to anger.
“Are you CRAZY?!”
The woman blinked, surprised. “Excuse me?”
“He was flirting with you! Not assaulting you!” Cassian stood up, placing herself between the man and the woman. “And you hit him there?!”
“These men were harassing me!” The woman pointed at them. “They kept insisting even after I refused!”
“Insisting isn’t physical assault!” Cassian crossed her arms. “You could have just left!”
“I TRIED! They were blocking my way!”
“Did you warn them you were going to hit? No! You just attacked!”
A small crowd was starting to form around them. Curious passersby stopped, watching the exchange.
The two friends of the injured man nodded vigorously. “She’s right! We just wanted to be friendly!”
“Friendly?!” The woman stared at them, incredulous. “You followed me for three streets!”
“We were just walking in the same direction!” one protested.
Cassian cut in before the woman could respond. “Listen. You clearly overreacted. These men might have been a bit insistent, okay. But physical violence? Straight to the… there?” She shook her head in disgust. “That’s disproportionate.”
“I was defending myself!”
“You were attacking,” Cassian corrected coldly. “There’s a difference.”
The crowd was murmuring now.
“She might be right…”
“A kick there is really extreme…”
“The poor guys just wanted a drink…”
The woman looked around, realizing the opinion was turning against her. “You… you’re kidding?!”
“You could have potentially injured someone permanently,” Cassian continued, her voice taking on a judge-like tone. “For what? Compliments? Invitations?”
“HARASSMENT!”
“You should apologize,” Cassian said firmly. “Immediately.”
“Apologize?! NEVER!”
The crowd was now clearly rumbling against the woman.
One of the friends—the skinny one—approached Cassian. “You’re amazing. And really pretty.” His smile returned. “Want to join us? Grab something to eat? Chat?”
Cassian turned slowly.
Her eyes—blue, icy, piercing—fixed on him with an intensity that dropped the temperature by several degrees.
The man froze. It felt like she was looking straight into his soul. Into the parts he hid from everyone. The thoughts he never admitted.
“You need to know your place.” Cassian’s voice was so cold it could freeze blood. “Understood?”
The man nodded frantically, backing up several steps.
Cassian turned back to the woman as if nothing had happened. “As I was saying. Your behavior was unacceptable.”
The woman, seeing she wouldn’t win, turned on her heel and left quickly, cheeks red with anger and humiliation.
---
Hiro sat alone at a table in the inn, sipping a glass of warm milk. The place was relatively quiet.
A man stumbled in. Clearly drunk. He spotted Hiro and, without invitation, collapsed into the chair across from him.
“Hey, man!” He raised his own glass—which he’d apparently brought with him. “Listen to me for two seconds?”
Hiro nodded politely. “Of course.”
The man took a long swig. “I spent… I don’t even know how long. Months?” He waved his hand vaguely. “Gathering Summer Tears. On that shit mountain.”
Summer Tears.
Hiro’s attention sharpened slightly.
“I wasn’t even paying attention to time. Just gathering. Over and over.” He laughed bitterly. “Then one day, I slipped.”
“Slipped?”
“Yeah. Into a crevasse. A really deep one. Like…” He spread his arms to exaggerate. “…impossibly deep.”
Hiro’s heart tightened. No. It can’t be…
“I fell. For a long time. Thought I was gonna die.” The man drank again. “But I survived. Broken. But alive.”
It’s him. The man with the gigantic bag. The one who fell into the crevasse.
He SURVIVED?!
Hiro looked at him more closely. The man was burly, muscular. But nothing extraordinary visually.
Discreetly, he activated his ability.
Above the man’s head, a marker appeared.
Yellow.
We’re roughly equal in power.
But he survived a fall that would have KILLED me.
“It took… I don’t know. Time.” The man shook his head. “To climb back up. But I eventually made it.”
He leaned forward, his voice growing louder, laced with anger.
“And you know what I found at the top? My bag. My bag FULL of Summer Tears.”
Hiro said nothing.
“Someone had opened it. Taken a BIG chunk.” He slammed the table, startling a few customers. “Months of work! STOLEN!”
Hiro kept his expression neutral, sympathetic. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”
“You know what’s funny?” The man laughed joylessly. “I don’t even know their faces. But if I find them…” His eyes hardened. “I’ll make them pay. A hundredfold.”
Hiro nodded slowly. “I wish you luck in finding them.”
The man smiled—a sad but grateful smile. “You’re a cool guy. You listen without judging. That’s rare.”
He stood up unsteadily. “Thanks, buddy. You cheered me up.”
Hiro watched him leave.
Yellow marker. Power roughly equal to mine.
And he survived a deadly fall like it was nothing.
If our paths cross again… if he finds out it was us who took the Summer Tears…
He sipped his milk slowly.
I sincerely hope our paths never cross again.
