She observed Shun a bit longer than necessary. He felt the air grow warmer.
Then she spoke.
"You have a habit of bouncing your legs when you're about to do something incredibly reckless."
Shun froze. He stopped bouncing his legs, guilt flickering on his face.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Her gaze shifted slightly to him. After a pause, she continued, "Knowing you… and my daughter. You must have gone your separate ways. And seeing that you're the only one here…"
She chuckled softly.
"I get the whole picture now. But… where's your little brother?"
"He gained a special class," Shun replied briefly.
She stayed silent for a moment, sinking into contemplation. Then she spoke.
"I see what's going on now. With the special class he attained, he climbed the ranks. Not only that—he gained wealth and fame. You two grew up differently.
"From there, I can guess you went to him once you heard I didn't have much time left… and made a bet with him."
"Yeah." Shun nodded. "As expected of you to know all of that from just one line. How did you do that?" he asked, surprised and amazed.
"It's just simple logic and common sense." She shrugged her shoulders and continued, "What did you bet?"
"Conquer a Tower… and make them apologize."
"That is incredibly reckless and stupid," she said quickly.
"I know."
She studied his expression for a few more seconds before exhaling softly.
"I don't deserve an apology, Shun. I'm aware of my actions. I left my daughter alone for years." She halted, a pang of guilt flickering in her eyes. "I should be the one apologizing, not her."
"Then you're both at fault." Shun gently took her hand. "It's not too late to apologize. You can do so once I win the bet."
Her face shifted slightly. Her eyes opened as realization struck her. A faint glint of hope flickered there. But it was brief.
"And if you lose?"
"I'll win. No matter what."
"Child, you're only level seven. A Tower's danger doesn't just come from inside—it comes from other hunters too."
"I know you don't believe me now… but I just want you to trust me."
"You…" She looked at him with doubt.
They say eyes are the window to the soul—and his eyes, especially, were filled with unshakable resolve.
"Where do you get this confidence? That you'll be able to conquer it?"
Shun didn't respond. He just smiled.
She frowned slightly, searching his gaze for an answer before finally sighing.
"It's truly reckless and bold… but it seems I don't have a choice. Very well, Shun. I will trust you."
Shun was overwhelmed with joy and hugged her softly.
"I will not disappoint you, Grandma!"
He held her for a few seconds before releasing her.
"Then… will you enter the time chamber?"
"Are you eager to see me die, child?"
"No, no, that's not what I meant!" Shun shook his head, flustered. "I don't know how long I'll be gone in the Tower. I don't want to return only to find out you're already gone."
"Foolish worries," she commented.
A vial of purple liquid appeared out of thin air.
"What's that?"
"A medicine from that land." She shook the vial gently, its contents swaying. "It's not potent, but it should serve its purpose. It'll weaken the virus, allowing me to live for another two weeks."
Shun was stunned—then happy to hear that. But then he paused, realizing something.
"Then—!"
"It's of no use. This virus adapts to any threat. The same medicine won't work twice."
He let out a simple "oh" of disappointment. But it didn't last long—his mind shifted immediately.
He had time now. There was no need for his grandma to enter the time chamber, risking guaranteed death.
Two weeks, he thought. I only have two weeks.
Shun felt the weight of the situation press on him. Doubts began to sprout.
Would he really be able to do it?
What if he failed?
What if he died?
Then he'd die trying. Then he'd fail.
Shun shook his head.
No.
He clenched his fists. He'd put everything into this.
If the only thing he cared about was losing, then he might as well walk into a monster's den and let them feast on him.
His grandma. His life. His purpose.
All of it crumpled into a paper ball and rolled down a path of fire.
It ought to hurt. It ought to burn. It ought to turn to ashes.
But even if only one ember survived—
He'd hold it in his hand. And he'd make it enough.
***
The golden rays of sunset poured through the window, lighting the dimly lit library.
It was vast yet empty, save for a single girl sitting alone. Books were piled around her like fortresses, and a strange ice spike floated beside her—its sharp tip aimed at her skull.
Her eyes slid across the lines of the book. Her breathing was hasty.
I must stop, she thought.
But the uncontrollable urge to keep reading—to seek more knowledge—grew stronger and stronger.
One more page, she thought, continuing like an addict.
But I must stop! she muttered aloud, yet her body moved as though it had its own will.
She felt herself slipping—the Hideous Sage's whispers curling through her thoughts like smoke.
Stop. No. Stop.
The spike shot into her.
It shattered into a million pieces.
The impact jolted her head forward, her forehead slamming into the table with a loud thud.
The pain snapped her clarity back.
The whispers vanished instantly.
She raised her head, oblivious to the red mark blooming on her forehead. Her focus was locked on the pile of books.
The curse is getting stronger lately… Rakina thought inwardly as she clenched the book tighter.
As she stared at the pile, someone entered.
Perhaps they had heard the noise.
Rakina glanced up and recognized him.
It was a teacher. His features were soft, his presence gentle. One would feel safe in his company.
"Are you alright, Rakina?" he asked. His eyes widened slightly at the red mark on her forehead. "What happened to your head?"
Rakina covered her forehead, embarrassed.
"I'm fine, Mr. Minato."
"Are you certain? Do you want to go to the infirmary?"
"That won't be necessary," she refused politely, shaking her head.
"I see."
He paused, gazing at the towering stacks of books.
"You surely love books. How many have you read?" he asked curiously.
Rakina quickly scanned the books and counted mentally.
"Sixteen."
Almost immediately, she thought inwardly—It was seven yesterday.
Her hand trembled. She gripped it tightly to stop it.
It'd be wise to leave before something happened.
"Then, if you'll excuse me, sir."
Rakina began cleaning up, putting the books back where they belonged.
"Let me help," he offered.
"No, there's no need. I don't want to bother you."
"It's okay," he insisted.
Rakina could only nod.
In a few minutes, they were done.
"Thank you, sir." Rakina bowed slightly and left the library.
She walked hastily, her mind drifting far.
The only thing she could focus on was the haunting feeling of the curse.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Her pupils seemed to tremble.
At that moment, she knew she couldn't stay like this.
She had to stay calm.
She halted her steps, taking a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
She distracted her mind with thoughts of food and cute animals.
Penguin. Ice cream. Panda. Milkshake, she muttered solemnly, like a spell.
Finally, she let out a sigh of relief.
Her heartbeat slowed gradually. The haunting feeling wasn't as intense as before.
With that settled, she couldn't help but wonder—
How much time did she have until the curse grew stronger?
Until she lost control completely?
The thought terrified her.
But she didn't linger on it too long.
She focused on the solution instead.