The porcelain body tore through the woods with inhuman speed. Branches snapped like twigs underfoot, roots cracked, and the wind howled past her pale porcelain cheeks. Nash's laughter rose and fell inside his mind, half exhilaration, half hysteria.
"God, this speed… I'll just get used to how insane this body is. Hina really is something."
He leaned her porcelain form forward, arms pumping, the forest blurring into streaks of green and black. In the distance, faint but growing, he could hear sirens wailing. Police cars howled through the night like hunting wolves.
"They're close," Nash muttered. "Shit, I need to move faster. I need to figure this out."
He shifted the porcelain body, zigzagging deeper into the trees, the sirens fading little by little until they were only a ghost of sound. But the question gnawed at him even as he ran.
The heavy bag slung across Hina's shoulder thumped with each step. He could feel its weight dragging her frame. Inside were bricks of cash, glittering jewelry, the stolen treasures of the Red Arms.
It was too much to carry around forever. Too much to stash carelessly.
Nash ground his teeth. "What the hell am I gonna do with this? I can't just keep running with it. If they catch me, it's over. If I leave it lying around, someone else will find it."
The porcelain fists clenched reflexively.
He thought hard, scanning possibilities in his head. What if I hide it now, then come back later in my real body? I just need to put it somewhere I can find again… somewhere not far from where I live. If I hide it too far away, how the hell am I supposed to fetch it in my weak-ass real body?
His mind raced with ideas. Under a bridge. Inside a hollow tree. Buried in dirt. Deliver it directly to his house. Every choice had flaws.
"Damn it, Nash, think," he hissed.
Hours blurred into each other as he kept running. The moon began to sink, stars fading into the pale light of dawn. Birds stirred in the branches, their cries sharp in the cold air. The porcelain body never slowed, never tired, but Nash's human mind ached with the weight of the decision.
Finally, as the sun threatened to rise over the horizon, Nash snapped.
"Fuck it. I'll bury it. Old school, simple. Nobody's gonna dig it up out here unless they trip on it by accident."
He pulled Hina's porcelain body to a stop in a thick grove where the underbrush was dense and wild. The earth smelled damp and untouched. He dropped the heavy bag to the ground with a dull thud.
"Alright. Time to dig."
Hina's pale hands clawed into the dirt. Roots snapped like threads under her strength, clumps of soil flying in every direction. In minutes, a deep pit opened, enough to swallow the entire bag. Nash grunted with effort, then shoved the bag inside and buried it beneath layers of dark earth.
He patted the soil flat, then dragged a few fallen branches over the spot for good measure.
He stood, brushing dirt from Hina's porcelain hands. "Good. That's settled. I'll remember this place. Big oak tree on the left, broken stump on the right. No way I'm forgetting."
Nash pushed Hina's body toward the road. It took a while, but eventually, the forest gave way to cracked asphalt winding through the outskirts. A faded street sign came into view.
"Sparrow Road," Nash muttered. "Okay, perfect. Not far from the city."
Satisfied, he guided Hina back into the deeper woods, found a secluded hollow, and sat her porcelain frame down until she vanished into the shadows.
He exhaled slowly, forcing calm into his thoughts.
"Time to switch back."
The cramped apartment greeted him with peeling paint, creaking pipes, and the faint smell of mold. Nash's eyes shot open, staring at the stained ceiling above his thin mattress. His human chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Sweat slicked his skin.
"Feels so weird," he whispered. "Still feels so weird every damn time."
He rolled off the mattress, ignoring the ache in his human legs, and grabbed a handful of crumpled bills from under his pillow. His heart raced as he shoved them into his pocket.
"This is it. Let's see if this plan really works."
He bolted down the stairs, out into the street, and hailed the first taxi that slowed.
The driver, a middle-aged man with sunken eyes, glanced back at him. "Where to?"
Nash wiped sweat from his brow. "Sparrow Road."
The driver shrugged, pulled the meter, and sped off.
The ride took nearly half an hour. Nash fidgeted the entire time, his knees bouncing, eyes darting to every passing landmark. When the taxi rolled to a stop near a rusted bridge, Nash's heart skipped a beat.
"This is it." He shoved cash at the driver, muttered a thanks, and jumped out.
The cold morning air bit his skin. Nash jogged past the bridge, retracing in his mind the path he had taken with Hina. Big oak. Broken stump.
He found it.
The soil was undisturbed, the branches still arranged. He dropped to his knees, clawing at the dirt with trembling hands. Sweat mixed with soil under his nails until his fingers brushed canvas.
"There you are," Nash breathed.
It took all his strength to drag the bag free. The weight nearly crushed his arms. His human body was nothing like the porcelain shell. He staggered, panting, barely able to heave it onto his back.
"God… damn… this is heavy."
Step by step, he trudged back to the road, each movement torture. His arms screamed, his legs trembled, his back ached. He cursed with every step.
By the time he flagged another taxi, he was drenched in sweat, his face pale. The driver eyed him suspiciously as he shoved the bag into the seat.
"Moving rocks or something?" the driver asked.
Nash forced a smile. "Yeah. Rocks. Something like that."
The driver snorted and pulled away.
Back in his apartment, Nash dropped the bag on the floor with a heavy thud. He collapsed beside it, gasping.
"Holy shit. I did it. I actually did it."
His hands fumbled at the zipper. The bag opened.
Stacks of cash greeted him, crisp bills bound tight. Jewelry glittered beneath the faint light of the apartment bulb. Rings, chains, watches—all stolen wealth.
Nash's chest swelled with something between relief and ecstasy.
"This… this is enough to live like a king."
He shoved his hand inside, letting the bills slip between his fingers. For the first time in years, satisfaction filled his chest.
But he was not stupid. He pulled out about twenty thousand, separated it, and zipped the rest back inside.
"Alright. Time to go shopping."
The city mall was bustling. Even this early, crowds swarmed the glass-fronted stores, neon lights flashing above. Nash walked through in his ragged clothes, clutching his new wad of cash, feeling eyes linger on him.
First stop was clothing.
He pulled shirts from racks, tried on jeans, bought a pair of sturdy boots. He swapped out his stained hoodie for something clean. In the mirror, he barely recognized himself.
Next was a bag. He chose a durable backpack, tossing it over his shoulder. He looked less like a street rat now, more like a man who belonged.
"Good," he muttered. "I look quite presentable now."
The final stop made his palms sweat.
A corporate relic shop.
The glass doors slid open, revealing a clean, sterile showroom lined with display cases. Behind each pane of glass sat artifacts: rings, daggers, pendants, each inscribed with faint runes.
A clerk in a neat uniform approached, bowing slightly. "Welcome, sir. Looking for anything specific?"
Nash cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "Something basic. Not too flashy. I just… started out."
The clerk smiled knowingly. "First relic purchase, then. We have many options."
Nash wandered until he found it. A wide bracelet, intricate designs etched into the metal. Faint runes ran across its surface, unlit and dormant.
"How much?" Nash asked.
"Ten thousand," the clerk said smoothly.
Nash hesitated only a moment before sliding the bills across the counter.
The clerk wrapped the relic carefully and handed it over. "May it serve you well."
Back in another taxi, Nash clutched the relic tight. His heart pounded.
"This is it... This is the start. Hina's body… with this, I can capture one. My own supernatural... Well, if Hina doesn't count."
The taxi stopped near Sparrow Road again. Nash carried the bracelet into the woods, dug another pit, and buried it deep.
He wiped his hands on his jeans. "Safe. Perfect. Now… back."
Afternoon light spilled through his apartment window when Nash finally lay back on his mattress. He exhaled, closed his eyes, and let his mind sink.
The porcelain body jerked awake in the shadows of the forest. Nash blinked through Hina's pale eyes, flexed her hands, and grinned.
"Still works every time."
He marched her porcelain body to the buried relic and dug it up. The bracelet gleamed faintly in her hands.
Nash lifted it, running Hina's pale fingers over the runes.
"Time to hunt."
Her porcelain lips curled into a grin that was not hers.
"Let's see what kind of supernatural wants to be my first catch."
The forest stretched endless before him, filled with unseen whispers and lurking auras. Nash's porcelain body stepped forward into the hunt, the weight of new power clutched in her hand.