Bertha had long noticed something strange about that mysterious young man. There was a familiarity in the way he moved, the energy he exuded—a faint echo of her younger brother who had died years ago. But that wasn't the point right now.
The point was… he had abducted her, dragged her deep into the forest, immobilized her body—and for what? Just to throw her into a freezing lake like some sort of prank?
What kind of lunatic is this guy!?
Bertha rose from the icy water, soaked to the skin and seething with indignation. Her once-pristine martial robe clung tightly to her flawless figure, revealing every curve as it plastered against her body like a second skin.
She splashed angrily, shouting into the trees, "Ha! Master Bertha, we will meet again! I swear it!" Her voice trembled with rage.
From somewhere in the distance, his mocking voice echoed back:
"Ha ha! We will meet again, Master Bertha. And when that day comes, I believe you'll see me in a different light."
"I'll kill you when we meet again!" she roared, slapping the surface of the lake in frustration.
But the forest had already gone silent.
Only then did she realize—he was gone. He had left just as quickly as he'd arrived, riding off into the trees on that ridiculous, magical bicycle like some arrogant, fire-wielding trickster.
"Damn you!" Bertha cursed under her breath, gritting her teeth. "You're insane! Just wait—I'm very vindictive!"
Clambering out of the lake with water dripping from her dark hair and robes, she grabbed her cold sword from the muddy bank. Her eyes burned with fury.
Without a word, she slashed at a nearby tree—thwack! thwack!—piercing its trunk repeatedly until it resembled a pincushion. The blade whistled through the air, a blur of flashing steel, as her wrath poured out through the edge.
Breathing heavily, her chest heaving beneath the soaked fabric, Bertha finally composed herself and stomped away in the opposite direction, muttering under her breath.
Meanwhile, John arrived at the Feazer Medical Clinic.
At the front gate stood two high school students—a boy and a girl—both looking visibly shaken. The boy was pale and stiff, shifting nervously, while the girl clutched his arm with subtle desperation.
They looked like they were trying to muster the courage to walk in, but something held them back.
John approached, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, are you here to see a doctor?"
Startled, the boy almost jumped. He instinctively tried to pull the girl away, but she stood firm, though visibly nervous. She glanced at John and asked cautiously, "Excuse me... Are you a doctor here?"
John nodded. "Yes. This is Feazer Medical Clinic. I'm the attending doctor right now."
The girl took a shaky breath. "Doctor, I'm... I'm not feeling well. Could you take a look at me?"
The boy tugged at her sleeve. "Maybe we shouldn't… Let's just go."
The girl shot him a glare. The boy shrank back into silence.
John glanced between the two and understood immediately. He sighed. "Let me guess... You two are in a relationship?"
Neither spoke.
Then, after a moment, the girl gave a slight nod.
John's expression turned serious. "Have you been feeling nauseous recently? Any vomiting, especially in the mornings?"
The girl's face went pale. She nodded again, almost imperceptibly.
John sighed inwardly. Kids these days… Without saying more, he took her wrist and pressed two fingers against her pulse. After a moment, his brows furrowed, and he turned to the boy.
"Her pulse is smooth and gentle, like pearls rolling across a jade plate... It's classic. She's pregnant."
The boy's eyes widened. "W-What!? That's impossible! We only… we only did it once!"
John glared at him. "And you thought once was safe? When you decided to have sex, you should have been prepared for the consequences!"
The boy collapsed to the ground, visibly shaken. They had been reckless—impulsive. He had convinced himself there was no risk. But now the girl had been vomiting for days, and both of them had become more terrified by the hour.
They hadn't dared to go to a big hospital, fearing exposure. Instead, they wandered here, to the Feazer Clinic, hoping for discretion.
John's diagnosis hit like thunder.
The boy panicked. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I… I don't know what to do!"
And then—he ran. Ignoring the girl's cry, he sprinted away without looking back.
"Wait!" she shouted, reaching after him. But her hand grasped nothing.
She stood there alone, trembling, her lips quivering. Tears welled up in her eyes.
John's gaze hardened. "See? Boys your age aren't capable of taking responsibility. You think it's all fun and games until something happens. And when it does, the girl is the one left suffering, alone."
The girl's voice cracked with desperation. "Doctor… Please help me. If my parents find out, they'll kill me…"
John stared at her long and hard. Her eyes were red, swollen with fear. But beneath that fear was something else—shame, regret, and innocence lost.
Finally, he sighed and said coldly, "Relax. You're not pregnant."
She blinked, stunned. "I'm not…?"
John nodded. "Your spleen is just a bit weak. That's all. The symptoms mimic early pregnancy, but there's no fetus. I lied to scare you—on purpose."
The girl's legs gave way, and she fell to her knees, sobbing from a cocktail of relief and humiliation.
"I… I swear… I'll never do anything like that again…"
John knelt beside her and said, voice firm but gentle, "Good. Remember this fear. Remember how quickly he ran the moment things got real. Respect yourself. No one else will do it for you if you don't."