Chapter 2

Upon returning to the hospital room, Aster handed Rité a set of clothes wrapped in plastic. It was a black training uniform, both top and bottom. 

“Change into this. Your clothes are dirty,” he said nonchalantly.

Only then did Rité realize that her patient gown was stained with blood. 

“Did you know there would be such a test during today’s trial?” she asked.

“No. I expected there would be some kind of test, but since we made a contract, I thought it would be a simple loyalty test to the military or the republic. I didn’t expect them to hand you a dagger,” he replied with a hint of amusement. 

“What if I hadn’t followed the orders completely?” Rité asked, her expression incredulous.

“Then I would have cut you with the dagger myself,” he said calmly.

Rité’s face turned cold, and Aster continued with a casual tone, “Isn’t that obvious? This is the military. It’s not a playground like your vigilante group, where you play with camaraderie. I can’t show everyone a disappointing performance from my contract partner.”

Rité glared at him in silence.

“Don’t feel so wronged. It could have been a harsher test. Before, an Awakened was brought in and asked to kill a prisoner who was about to be executed,” Aster added.

“What?” Rité’s face turned pale as she asked, and Aster answered with a blank expression, “They promised the prisoner they would be spared if they could defeat the Awakened using their abilities. Both were desperate. It yielded the best results for verifying abilities. Consider yourself lucky that you weren’t turned into a gladiator.”

Imagining the officers watching someone’s life-and-death struggle as if it were a game made Rité feel nauseous. At that moment, Aster sharply asked, “So, you can’t use your healing ability on yourself?”

He had noticed earlier that Rité didn’t heal her own wounds, immediately identifying the weakness of her power. Although he seemed indifferent, he had not taken his eyes off her since entering the courtroom, observing every little detail.

“…That’s right. Do you know why?” Rité’s eyes reddened as she spoke. Aster looked at her curiously, and she continued in a somber voice, “This ability is not a blessing but a punishment for me. The only thing I can use to protect myself is my own pain. I can heal others’ pain, but I can’t heal my own. It’s a punishment for failing to protect Nox.”

“I see,” Aster muttered seriously.

Suddenly, he recalled the moment Rité had awakened. Her ability had blossomed out of self-loathing and pain, like a lotus flower emerging from the mud. Paradoxically, pain was the driving force that kept her going. Her healing power, which was the opposite of her usual state, must have manifested from her desperate desire to heal the wounded Nox.

“But it’s okay. From now on, I’ll heal your wounds. Since you and I are practically one body now,” Aster said calmly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you parasite,” Rité snapped, and Aster smiled.

“Don’t be so harsh. Your ability is very special. So far, no other healing ability has been combined with an offensive nature like yours. It’s a contradiction, like good and evil. Thanks to you, I got two abilities with one life,” Aster explained.

“What do you mean, with one life?” Rité asked, puzzled.

Aster shrugged. “To prevent your rampage, I gave up one of my infinite possibilities.”

“What?” Rité’s eyes widened.

“In exchange for using your ability, I lost the chance to use another one,” Aster said.

“What does that even mean? Explain it so I can understand!” Rité demanded.

“You’re curious about my true identity, aren’t you?” Aster asked, looking at her with intense eyes. He took out a small box with an ornate design from his pocket and asked, “Have you ever played cards?”

Rité looked at him, puzzled by the sudden question.

“Did you know that the name of the Carta army comes from cards?” Aster continued.

“I don’t care and I don’t want to know,” Rité turned her head away, but Aster smiled as if he had expected her reaction and went on.

“There is a person in the Carta army who can use special abilities,” he said, taking out a card and showing it to her. It was the Joker, a clown holding a telescope and observing from a high place.

“They are called ‘Wilder,'” he explained.

Rité knew that the Joker was also called a wild card. A wild card could be used as any other card, making it versatile yet also useless in games where it didn’t belong. Depending on how it was used, it could either substitute for any card or be the most powerful trump card.

“A Wilder has the ability to borrow powers through contracts with others. Instead of completely stealing their abilities, they can amplify them to their maximum potential,” Aster elaborated.

“So, you’re the Wilder?” Rité asked.

“Yes,” Aster replied, looking satisfied.

“As proof of our contract, I marked you. If I break the mark, you’ll be free, and I can contract with someone else to use their ability,” he continued.

“Are you saying you’ll discard me like a used card?” Rité asked, glaring at him.

“Who said anything about discarding?” he retorted with a mischievous smile. “I chose you. Out of all the abilities, I decided to use yours. Without even fully understanding its potential, I chose to save you in that moment.”

Rité fell silent. Aster lowered his head slightly, meeting her eyes up close as if engaging in a staring contest. His serious black eyes made Rité’s eyes tremble slightly. Although she disliked his attitude of treating people as cards, she had to admit that his actions were indeed unexpected.

“There are many in the military who don’t understand my decision. You probably sensed that in the courtroom,” he said.

“Of course they don’t understand. You’re insane,” Rité replied bluntly, and Aster laughed heartily.

“I won’t deny it. In fact, I operate independently in the military without much interference. My rank of Major is just a title I hold. If I go any higher, I’ll only attract more attention,” he explained.

Rité blinked. It seemed he had significant influence in the military, judging by his confident demeanor in the courtroom and the respect he commanded from the officers. Like a jester who could mock the king without fearing for his life, Aster seemed to hold a similar unique position in the Carta army.

“But today’s trial was crucial. It was to prove your worth and justify why I chose you. Currently, I’m the only Wilder in the Carta army, a rare resource. A Wilder can contract with Awakened individuals only three times. Therefore, you must prove to be a valuable card, having secured one of those three chances,” Aster stated.

Rité glared at him and asked, “What happens after three contracts?”

Aster smiled and answered, “I die.”

“…What?” Rité’s eyes widened in shock.

“When the contract ends, I die too,” Aster said.

Rité’s eyes flashed as she asked, “So which number am I?”

Aster’s smile deepened. “The second.”

‘One more to go…,’ Rité thought, feeling a sense of despair. Reading her thoughts, Aster said, “I’m the ultimate trump card to be used at the last moment. I can absorb and amplify the abilities of the officers, making me the most advantageous card in a war. It’s best to save such a card for the right moment.”

Rité now understood why the officers were so interested in Aster’s contract partner. She was the one he had chosen to spend one of his three lives on, a life he had risked for the power he now possessed.

Aster spoke seriously. 

“I’m not using you as a disposable pawn. You’re as important to me as my own life. Usually, the contract ends when the contractor dies, but don’t try to escape by killing yourself. I have one more chance, but this is your last.”

It was as if Aster could see right through her. His black eyes glinted.

“As my contractor, I’ll give you one more benefit.”

“…Benefit?”

Aster relaxed his expression as he spoke.

“I’ll let you kill me.”

Rité’s eyes widened. She couldn’t fully grasp what he had just said. It seemed like he was gambling with his life for fun.

Aster continued with a smile.

“From now on, you’ll train to control your powers freely with me. I’ll make you strong enough to kill me. Of course, if you overuse your abilities, there’s a chance you might die first since your life force is also used in the contract, just like mine. Even though the contract can be made three times, overuse of power can kill you in one go.”

“That will never happen. I will definitely kill you with my own hands.”

“Good. That makes it more interesting.”

Aster laughed again. His face looked as pure as a child enjoying a game, leaving Rité speechless once more. People say that those who fight in wars for a long time eventually go mad. Perhaps he had gone mad too.

Aster crossed his arms and spoke.

“Well, now that the explanation is over, shall we start training?”

“Training?”

“First, change into your training clothes.”

Aster nodded towards the desk. Rité glanced at him as she took the training clothes out of the bag.

“Can you turn around while I change?”

“Just change right here.”

“You want me to change in front of you?”

Rité asked incredulously, but Aster replied without a change in expression.

“Are you embarrassed? We’ll be seeing everything there is to see of each other anyway.”

Rité glared at him with disgust. Aster coldly commanded her.

“Take off your clothes. That’s an order. Do I need to teach you how to obey?”

Rité stared at him before she slowly took off her hospital gown, starting with the top. Aster watched her undress without shame, his gaze as if memorizing her body’s structure.

A suffocating tension filled the silence. Rité, blushing from shame, undressed down to her underwear.

Her body was slim, with no excess fat, revealing lean muscles. Her collarbones and hips were prominent, giving her a fragile appearance.

Rité hurriedly put on the training pants to avoid his gaze.

Just then, Aster uncrossed his arms, got up from the desk, and approached her.

Rité, startled, turned slightly to avoid him.

Aster stood in front of her and looked down at her before slowly placing a hand on her shoulder.

When his hand touched her shoulder, Rité flinched and shrank back, her heart racing at the thought of being alone with him in the room.

Aster traced the scar on her shoulder with his thumb and asked quietly.

“How did you get this scar?”

An old scar was etched on her shoulder like a tattoo. She couldn’t heal her own wounds with her abilities, and there were no other healers in her group, so the wound had turned into a scar.

Rité felt slightly relieved and shrugged off his touch.

“Does it matter? It’s none of your business.”

Aster held his hand in the air, watching her silently. His quietness made Rité’s heartbeat echo in her ears.

He didn’t press further and instead used his power to heal the scar on her shoulder without touching her.

His action felt possessive, as if he wouldn’t allow any marks on her without his permission, leaving Rité with mixed feelings.

After healing her, Aster lowered his hand and lifted her hand, inspecting the mark on her wrist with satisfaction.

“It’s well-etched. Looks good even as a tattoo.”

“…”

“But you’re too skinny. You need to eat more. I’ll tell the doctor to prescribe you supplements.”

So she had a doctor. It made sense that as his contractor, she’d receive special treatment in the military.

Aster looked straight into her eyes and said.

“Don’t be embarrassed in front of me anymore. I don’t feel ashamed to show my body in front of you. We might be seeing each other often.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

Rité frowned as she asked. Aster chuckled.

“Partners should know each other’s bodies well. Both the weak points and the usable parts. We’re important parts of the military.”

Rité was once again at a loss for words. He seemed indifferent to calling himself a part. She couldn’t understand what thoughts drove his life.

Trying to change the subject, she asked in a stiff tone.

“When can I see my brother?”

“Don’t rush. As I said, your brother is on a mission in enemy territory, so it’ll take some time. Until then, endure the training well. For your brother.”

Aster’s expression turned meaningful as he continued.

“And a word of advice: watch what you say here. Don’t tell anyone that your brother is in the military. It’ll become a weakness for you.”

“A weakness?”

“There are many eyes and ears here. Someone you ate with yesterday could be your enemy today. Many people look at you unfavorably, and if more people start threatening you with your brother’s life, it’ll only be worse for you, right?”

Rité hesitated before asking.

“…Is that why you hid the fact that I can’t heal myself from the other officers?”

Aster stared at her.

He had realized it during the trial but didn’t report it to the lieutenant general. Instead, he made it seem like she was following his orders and concealed it.

Despite calling himself a part, his loyalty to the military didn’t seem so strong.

Aster responded calmly.

“It was to protect you.”

“…To protect me?”

Rité snorted, finding his words ridiculous, but he was serious.

“Yes. Keep hiding it for your sake. Appearing invincible will prevent others from targeting you.”

Rité couldn’t respond to his meticulousness. The person who ruined her life seemed intent on protecting her, leaving her with complicated emotions.

Aster relaxed his expression and spoke leisurely.

“Then I look forward to it, partner. Don’t disappoint me.”

* * *

Rité sorted her belongings in her quarters before heading down to the dining hall. It was Aster’s instruction to fill her stomach before the training.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper meal. Her stomach had long since become numb, feeling nothing at all. 

As she entered the dining hall, a group of male trainees eyed her warily. Ignoring them, Rité took a tray and dished up some food, walking to a long, empty table.

Just as she placed her tray on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down, a group of trainees who had been whispering nearby stood up and approached her. Rité glanced at them from the corner of her eye, expecting some kind of initiation. She knew they wouldn’t leave her, a captive, alone.

Feeling amused, Rité ignored them and picked up her fork. At that moment, a heavy military boot suddenly dropped onto her tray. Soup splashed, and the bread was smashed. Rité paused, her fork still in hand, and looked up.

A man with slicked-back brown hair grinned at her maliciously.

“What’s the matter? Go ahead and eat. Don’t mind us,” he said, and the other trainees around him snickered unpleasantly. 

Rité remained unfazed, staring at him as she asked, “Does the Carta army waste valuable food during wartime?”

“Of course not. That’s why you should eat it,” he replied, leaning in and grinning at her with wide eyes.

Rité looked back down at her tray, now covered in dirt from his boot. 

“You look like you’ve lost your appetite and your strength to eat. Should I feed you myself? I even have a special cream soup that comes from my body,” he said lewdly, causing more unpleasant laughter from the men around him.

Ignoring their reactions, Rité silently stabbed the dirtied bread with her fork, as if continuing her meal. Everyone watched her with keen interest.

Then, suddenly, their eyes widened as Rité swiftly shoved the forkful of bread into the man’s mouth.

“Gah…!”

He staggered back, covering his mouth, as Rité stared at him coldly. 

“Eat it yourself. Your boot is probably cleaner than your mouth,” she said.

“You crazy prisoner…!” he shouted, and his friends lunged at Rité all at once. Rité jumped onto the table, using a chair as a springboard.

She had received basic military training as a member of the vigilante group, and she was among the top performers. 

Rité immediately stabbed one of them in the back with her fork and kicked him, sending him sprawling with a scream. As another rushed at her from behind, she kicked her tray into his face, knocking him down with food splattering everywhere.

Meanwhile, a man had climbed onto the table and grabbed her from behind, choking her. Rité’s face reddened as she struggled, then stabbed his thigh with her fork.

“Argh…!” he screamed, releasing her. She kicked him off the table, sending him crashing to the floor.

“Who’s next? Just say the word, and I’ll make you swallow this fork whole,” Rité threatened, glaring at them with wild, defiant eyes. She looked like a feral beast, her breathing heavy and her blue eyes blazing with rage.

The trainees trembled involuntarily at the sight of her.

At that moment, a calm voice spoke from the doorway. “What’s all this commotion?”

Everyone turned to see a man with ash-gray hair, arms crossed, leaning casually against the doorframe. Their eyes widened in shock.

“S-Sir Major…!”

Major Aster Cloud was a figure of legend, someone the trainees could hardly dare to look at directly. He was known for countless fearsome rumors, earning him the nickname “Monster of the Battlefield” among the troops.

Seeing him, the trainees quickly stood at attention, lining up against the wall. Only Rité turned her head away, ignoring him.

Aster walked slowly into the chaotic dining hall, surveying the scene. “Did you do this, Rité?”

The men on the floor scrambled to their feet, their faces red with embarrassment.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?” Aster’s voice was soft but firm.

Rité glanced at him briefly, then responded. “Yes. I did it. Those guys were wasting precious food, so I taught them a lesson.”

The trainees inhaled sharply. Not only was she speaking informally to him, but her tone was also shockingly rude and arrogant.

Aster had joined the military at a very young age and had led many victorious battles. His achievements were so significant that he was promoted to Major in his twenties, a rare feat, especially within the special forces.

Despite having no desire for higher rank or honor, Aster refused promotions because he wanted to stay on the battlefield, seeking a suitable partner. In the special forces, only Majors and lower ranks were deployed in combat, which meant he deliberately stayed in that rank to remain in the field.

This lack of ambition for rank or glory only increased his esteem among the republican faction. 

Aster Cloud was a mysterious figure, often referred to as the “Star Hidden Behind Clouds” due to his enigmatic presence. One officer even jokingly called him the “Power Star of the Clouds, Aster.”

Seeing Rité’s audacity in confronting such a legendary figure, everyone thought she was as good as dead. But then Aster turned to the men with food stains on their training uniforms and asked, “Is what she said true, gentlemen?”

“N-No, sir! Not at all!” they stammered.

“Is that so?” Aster’s gaze grew colder. His stern silence made them sweat as they tried to explain.

“We… We didn’t mean to waste food… We just thought she was taking too much…,” one of them managed to say, though it was obvious what he meant was “for a prisoner.”

Aster said nothing, continuing to stare at them in silence. The weight of his gaze was more terrifying than any words he could have spoken.

Aster noticed a boot on the ground, picked it up by the laces with his thumb and forefinger, and held it up in the air. The brown-haired man to whom the boot belonged shuddered.

Aster looked calmly at the dirty boot and spoke, “Mishandling military-issued equipment… This batch of trainees seems to lack discipline from the start.”

The trainees, heads bowed, swallowed nervously in the tense atmosphere.

“What should we do? I dislike disturbances,” Aster said, coldly eyeing the men who had harassed Rité.

“We’re sorry…”

“Oh? Are you really sorry?”

“Yes!”

“Then, if you’ve done wrong, you should be punished, right?”

They swallowed hard again. Aster narrowed his eyes and said, “You there.”

“Trainee Devel Jacqueline!”

The brown-haired man shouted as he saluted. Aster tossed the boot at his feet. As the boot landed with a dull thud, he issued his command.

“Lick it.”

“Excuse me…?”

The brown-haired man stared in shock, unable to believe his ears. Aster, without blinking, repeated, “Lick it. Your precious military equipment is dirty, so you should clean it.”

The man’s face turned pale.

As he stood frozen, unable to respond, Aster’s black eyes flashed ominously. “Do I need to say it a third time?”

“No, sir!”

The man squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly knelt on the floor. Trembling, he began to lick his boot. The other trainees, unable to watch the disgusting scene, stood rigidly, staring straight ahead.

An oppressive silence, like the edge of a blade, settled over the dining hall.

Finally, Aster’s harsh expression softened slightly. “What’s your name again?”

The man, who had paused in licking his boot, cried out, “Devel Jacqueline!”

“Alright, Trainee Jacqueline. From this moment until midnight tomorrow, you will live without one of your boots. Consider it a lesson on how inconvenient it is to be without proper gear on the battlefield.”

“Understood…”

Aster turned to the remaining culprits. “And the rest of you.”

They flinched and quickly recited their names and ranks. Aster spoke bluntly, “You will join Trainee Jacqueline in fasting until midnight tomorrow. Since you participated in wasting food, you’ll face the consequences.”

“Understood!”

As they responded energetically, Aster smiled grimly and added, “If you get too hungry, feel free to pick up and eat the food off the floor. In wartime, you’ll miss every piece of food you waste today.”

The trainees dared not lift their heads. Aster’s expression hardened as he said, “No answer?”

“Understood!”

Aster turned his gaze to someone else. “Rité Rainhills.”

Rité looked at him silently. Aster spoke calmly, “Follow me.”

He turned and walked away without waiting for her response. Unlike the other trainees, she didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Rité jumped down from the table and casually tossed the fork to the accomplices.

She smirked and said teasingly, “Don’t mind me. Go ahead and eat.”

Though their faces turned red with anger, none of them dared to respond or look directly at her. They instinctively understood that the pecking order had been established by what had just transpired.

Rité nonchalantly left the dining hall and followed Aster into a room.

It was Aster’s office.

Rité glanced around the room. It contained only the bare minimum of necessary furniture and items. No other officer’s room could be so spartan.

Aster removed his uniform jacket and carefully placed it on a chair, then placed his black leather gloves neatly on his polished wooden desk.

His movements were precise and disciplined. Like his office, he seemed to operate with only the necessary minimum of actions.

There was an inexplicable loneliness and emptiness in the room and in him. As she watched his taut back in his perfectly fitted shirt, Rité felt as if he might disappear to some unknown, distant place at any moment.

Soon, an aide brought in a serving cart with two trays. Rité glanced at the trays. The food on them was far superior to what the trainees were eating.

Aster picked up one tray and held it out to Rité with one hand. “Eat. If you don’t, you’ll die.”

He spoke as if it was a matter of course. Rité glared at him, ready to knock the tray from his hand. But Aster, as if taming a wild horse, calmly pulled the tray back.

“Do you want to be punished like those trainees?”

When Rité turned her head sharply away, Aster placed the tray back on the cart and took the other tray to his desk. “Suit yourself.”

He began eating the food in front of her, slicing the steak slowly and elegantly, and placing a piece into his mouth.

“The steak is excellent. Our military really does provide fantastic meals.”

Rité unconsciously swallowed. Meat was a precious resource. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten meat.

The smell of the meat was driving her crazy. She finally gave in to her instincts, took her tray, and began devouring the steak. Aster looked up from his desk and smiled.

“That’s right, eat. You’ll need your strength if you want to kill me.”

At his words, Rité paused momentarily. Aster, still smiling, continued to eat his steak with elegance.

Rité ignored him and focused on her meal. The meat, juicy and tender, melted in her mouth—it was like a taste of heaven.

She held the steak in one hand and grabbed a spoon with the other. The other dishes were also of a quality she had never tasted before.

Rité scooped up a large spoonful of corn dish and stuffed it into her mouth, barely swallowing before tearing into the meat. She had no room for pride as she voraciously consumed the food, her face nearly buried in the plate. Eventually, she realized the room had grown silent around her.

Rité glanced up cautiously and met Aster’s eyes. He had set down his fork and knife and was quietly watching her. As her hunger subsided and her sanity returned, her face flushed with embarrassment.

She realized she must look quite barbaric, a far cry from the person who had just threatened to flip her tray. Aster chuckled softly and offered his plate to her. “Want to eat mine too?”

With her cheeks bulging with food, Rité glared at him defiantly, looking like an angry hamster. Aster couldn’t help but laugh. Feeling humiliated, Rité looked back down at her plate. Aster pushed his plate closer to her and said, “Eat up. Like I said, you need to put on some weight. There will be times when you won’t be able to eat, so take what you can now.”

Rité stared at his plate without responding. She wanted to eat, but her pride kept her from moving. Aster, his expression turning serious, asked, “Do I need to feed you myself for you to listen?”

Jolted by his words, Rité began eating his food as well. Aster chuckled again, and Rité’s pride made her blush even more.

When the meal was over, Aster pointed to a cot in the room and said, “You can sleep here tonight.”

“What?” Rité looked at him with anxious eyes. Aster smiled nonchalantly and replied, “After causing such a commotion, who knows what might happen if you return to your quarters. But if you prefer, you can go back and sleep with the beasts.”

“…”

“I recommend taking a fork with you for emergencies. In a war zone, you should always have a weapon on hand.”

Rité sat staring at the floor with a troubled expression. This place wasn’t particularly safe, but considering what had happened earlier, she doubted anyone in the army would welcome her now.

As if reading her thoughts, Aster approached her, grabbed the armrests of her chair with both hands, and leaned in close. “If you want to make sure no one bothers you, you have two options. Prove that you have an ability strong enough to intimidate them, or become my perfect partner.”

Rité glared at him from up close. Aster smiled slyly and said, “Choose whichever option you prefer.”

With that, he straightened up, closed the door, and left the room. Alone, Rité’s mind was a jumble of thoughts, but she was full and warm, and soon felt her tension melt away as sleep overcame her.

Sleeping peacefully in the heart of enemy territory…

It seemed ridiculous, but despite her rational thoughts, she fell asleep the moment she lay down on the bed, as if dead to the world.

* * *

Aster stood before a door, having been summoned by someone. After knocking and opening it, he saw a red-haired man in a military cap standing with his back to the window.

“You’re here.”

“Yes, you called for me, Lieutenant colonel Darren.”

Darren, who was once a captain, had now risen to the rank of lieutenant colonel. He glanced back at Aster and said, “You can probably guess why I called you.”

“Yes, it must be because of my contractee,” Aster replied calmly, a slight smile playing on his lips. But Darren’s face remained cold.

“Why didn’t you follow my orders?”

He was referring to the time Aster had spared Rité’s life. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Aster’s smile faded, and he adopted a serious expression.

Back then, Darren had directly ordered Aster to kill Rité. The sound of gunfire had led Darren to forget about the insignificant girl. That was until Aster introduced her as his contractee, now fully grown.

Khalid, who had used his memory scan ability to glimpse into their past, chose not to report it out of respect for Aster. But Darren recognized Rité immediately, realizing she was the girl from back then because of her surname matching the wild dog boy they had brought into the army.

Aster had advised Rité to tell no one about her brother, but Darren already knew her weakness.

“I apologize, Lieutenant colonel.”

Aster tried to gloss over the matter with a pleasant demeanor, but Darren pressed on.

“Don’t think you can get away with this. You were promoted at the unprecedented age of sixteen because of that incident. It was highly unusual.”

“Yes, thanks to you, Lieutenant colonel. But when have I ever been one to chase ranks?”

Darren’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re saying it’s fine if I demote you right now?”

Aster, unfazed, replied calmly, “If you decide to, I will accept it. It’s true I disobeyed your orders.”

Darren scrutinized him before speaking again. “I called you here to hear your reason. You’ve never disobeyed orders before. Why did you spare that girl?”

Aster’s expression subtly shifted. “Why indeed…”

“Did you take a liking to her at a young age?”

Aster chuckled softly. “You could say that.”

He recalled the day he first met Rité. It was the first and only time he had spared someone. Normally, he had no hesitation in killing, regardless of age or gender. But her clear, sky-blue eyes filled with raw emotions had intrigued him. Unlike his own emotionless existence, her vibrant feelings were fascinating to him. Her eyes held a dynamic range of emotions—anger, despair, fear, guilt, love for her brother—that he found genuinely beautiful.

In deep thought, Aster finally responded, “I wanted to see those eyes again.”

Darren asked, “So you thought you’d see them again if you spared her?”

Aster answered straightforwardly, “Yes. She had a strong attachment to her brother and life. I believed she would survive against all odds, and we would meet again. I thought our next meeting would be the last.”

He had truly believed that. Since she was not an Awakened, he planned to destroy her without hesitation if they met again. But once more, she defied his expectations.

“You ended up sparing her again.”

“Life doesn’t always go as planned.”

Darren sighed at Aster’s easy going reply. “Let me ask you one more thing. Is what you feel for her ‘love’?”

“Do I seem like someone capable of feeling love?” Aster asked, finding the question amusing. Darren watched the peculiar light in Aster’s dark eyes.

Aster Cloud, the only Wilder in the military, was a perfect puppet and battle weapon, raised since childhood to kill without question. Could such a person feel love?

Darren shook his head. “No, it must be simple curiosity. Forget I asked that embarrassing question.”

“I understand why you asked. Love can be stronger than any ability, capable of destroying everything…” Aster said, his eyes softening.

Many Awakened fell in love, often losing their rationality and becoming emotional at crucial moments. They might abandon their missions to save a dying lover, disobey orders, or desert together. But Aster was different. As a Wilder, his role was to use his contractee as a weapon and shield, much like a parasite on its host. And Rité, with her dual abilities, fit that role perfectly.

Aster spoke coldly, “She is my prey. Just as predators feel no love for their prey, you needn’t worry about such things.”

Darren stared at him before speaking again. “I won’t demote you. You’re my most valued subordinate. But there must be consequences for disobeying orders. Train her and make her a proper weapon. Ensure she passes the final test.”

“Yes, I will.”

Though it was an order to train a new recruit, Aster complied readily. Partnering with a new Awakened required building a partnership and honing his own skills.

As Darren prepared to leave, he paused at the door. “And remember, unless given special orders, don’t leave survivors. It’s the best way to prevent raising threats against the military. Finish things cleanly if you don’t want to lose your toy.”

After Darren shut the door behind him, Aster chuckled and murmured, “A toy, huh…”

He pulled a military dagger from his waist—the same one the lieutenant general had thrown at Rité earlier. Twirling the dagger skillfully, he caught it and stared at the blade. His reflection on the sharp edge showed his lips curving into a slight, sardonic smile.

“And yet, you’re just a toy as well…”

* * *

In Rité’s dream, Nox appeared. She had never imagined what he would look like as a teenager, so in front of her stood a faceless, slightly taller boy. Ten years had passed since that day, and Nox was now sixteen, but in her memory, he remained perpetually six years old.

In the dark, empty space, rain was drizzling down. Unlike the last time, Nox didn’t play hide-and-seek. He just stood there, staring at her while getting drenched. His face was blurry, as if erased by a rubber, but Rité somehow felt he was smiling sadly at her.

Then, suddenly, it happened.

“…Sister, wake up.”

The moment her younger brother’s voice hit her ears, Rité’s eyes snapped open.

She awoke on a cold, dark concrete floor. The scene seemed like an extension of her dream, and she lay there in a daze, unable to understand her situation. She had no sense of when she fell asleep or how long she had been out. She distinctly remembered falling asleep on Aster’s office bed. So why was she here?

Rité soon noticed her wet clothes and the bindings on her hands behind her back. Even her ankles were tied. She struggled to her feet, stumbling as she rose. She was trapped in a barren, concrete box. Looking up, she saw water pouring from the ceiling, already up to her ankles.

For a moment, she thought the trainees from the mess hall were retaliating against her, but quickly dismissed the idea. They couldn’t have accessed Aster’s office so easily. Only one person could have brought her here.

“Aster! That bastard…!”

Looking back, it was clear he had spiked her food with a sedative. There was no other explanation for her deep, undisturbed sleep during the abduction. He must have added the sedative while she was distracted, ravenously eating her meal.

Aster was known for his strict adherence to military discipline. He punished wrongdoers appropriately, even if they were his partners. Had she unknowingly started thinking she was special to him?

Disgusted with herself for accepting his kindness without question, Rité shivered. The water kept rising, now up to her thighs as she sat. She desperately tried to untie the ropes, realizing there was only one reason he left her here: to test her escape skills.

Proof of this lay in the waterproof surveillance camera in the corner of the ceiling. The thought of him watching her struggle made her sick.

Quickly scanning the area for anything sharp, Rité suddenly remembered something and her eyes widened.

“For emergencies, I’d recommend carrying at least a fork. It’s always good to have a weapon on you on the battlefield.”

A fork. Aster had casually mentioned she should take a fork. Was he giving her a hint?

She regretted not keeping it hidden in her clothes rather than giving it to the trainees. Or at least keeping it when returning the tray in Aster’s office. The thought of him planning this far ahead gave her chills. But now was not the time to dwell on regrets.

Rité frantically tried to untie the ropes but soon fell into despair. She had learned and practiced cutting ropes with her shoelaces while in the vigilante group. But now, even that was taken into account, as she was barefoot.

“Damn you, Aster…! If I get out of here, I’ll tear you to pieces! You hear me? Huh? Do you?”

She screamed at the surveillance camera. Watching her from behind reinforced glass, arms crossed, Aster’s lips curled into a slight smile.

The water rapidly rose to her waist. Rité realized there was only one option left: to use her ability.

Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to locate the pain in her body. The icy water had numbed her senses, making it hard to find the pain. She knew she had to hurry before her fingers froze. She eventually found a bruise from her fight in the mess hall. It wasn’t bleeding, but she needed to refine the pain sharply, just like Aster had shown her in the courtroom.

While standing still, focusing with her eyes closed, the water reached her neck. At that moment, a sharp, transparent needle formed in her hand.

Rité quickly opened her eyes and rubbed the needle against the rope. The water had risen so high she had to periodically push off the floor to keep breathing.

Finally, her arms were free. She quickly dove underwater, curling up to use the needle on her ankles. Her face contorted, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her turquoise hair floating around like seaweed.

Just as she was about to lose consciousness, she felt the rope around her ankles snap.

Rité surfaced, gasping for air. Her breath came in harsh pants. The water had almost reached the ceiling. She knew she had less than a minute before the concrete box was completely submerged.

She took a deep breath, trembling, and then, as the ceiling was covered by water, she took a final, desperate gulp of air and dove underwater. There had to be an exit somewhere.

She squinted, relying on the blue light from the needle to see, and frantically searched for a door. Finally, she found a small hatch at the bottom.

Swimming over like a mermaid, she reached the hatch. It was a square opening, but she wasn’t sure if it was a door. She tried pushing it with her hands, pounding it with her fists, and kicking it with her feet, but it wouldn’t budge.

Panic set in.

Her heart pounded erratically, constricting her throat. Bubbles escaped her mouth as she struggled in the water. The pain was unbearable. She was at her limit.

Just before losing consciousness, Rité noticed a small keyhole on the door through her blurry vision. Summoning all her remaining strength, she thrust the needle into the hole and jiggled it desperately.

“Please…! Please…!”

Then, she heard a clicking sound from inside as the lock disengaged. Rité immediately body-slammed the door, and as it opened, she was swept out with the cascading water.

“Cough…! Huff…! Cough, cough…!”

Completely exhausted, Rité collapsed on the floor, her body heaving as she gasped for air. The sound of air escaping her lungs hissed out weakly.

As the door she had come through closed, cutting off the water flow, she heard three slow claps from nearby. Raising her trembling head, she saw a man standing before her.

It was Aster, looking pleased.

“Well done. Quite impressive.”

“You… you did this on purpose…”

She had planned to punch him in the face if she ever saw him again, but she had no strength left. Instead of getting angry, she could only lie there, struggling on the wet floor. Aster spoke as he looked at her.

“That’s why you should never let your guard down. Especially if you’re a captive here.”

His words seemed to remind her of her position. Glaring at him with bloodshot eyes, Rité spat out,

“I… I trusted you…”

Aster responded calmly.

“Thank you. I also believed you would pass the test.”

As Rité trembled, Aster smiled slyly.

“Welcome to the Shadow Unit, Rité.”

At his words, numerous people emerged from the shadows, all wearing black hoods or masks.

“The Shadow Unit…?”

“Yes. This is the unit you’ll be joining. It’s the same unit I was once a part of, my direct unit.”

Rité looked at them in disbelief. Aster explained calmly.

“This test was the quickest and most effective way to train your survival skills as an assassin. An assassin must complete their mission by any means necessary and escape the scene, or else face death.”

“Wasn’t it also the most effective way to introduce me to everyone here?”

“I can’t deny that.”

Aster admitted readily. She felt as if she was being thrown before an audience again, just like in the courtroom before. Glaring at him, Rité said,

“You tried to kill me.”

Aster replied unemotionally,

“As I said before, I had no intention of killing you. If you had passed out after drinking all that water, I would have immediately rescued you.”

“So, now you want me to thank you? After drugging me and dumping me here?”

As Rité raged, Aster’s face turned cold.

“Stop blaming others for your mistakes.”

“…”

Rité’s expression inadvertently revealed her hurt. Aster remained stern.

“I taught you how to survive. These are things you can’t learn without experiencing them yourself. Now you know how to live as an assassin. Isn’t that valuable?”

With her hair limp and face contorted, Rité responded,

“Of course, I learned very well. I learned never to trust you. Thanks for reinforcing who my real target is.”

Aster smirked silently and extended a hand toward someone. A masked man approached and handed him a large towel. Aster unfolded it and draped it over Rité’s shoulders. Only then did she realize how much she had been trembling. Her whole body felt numb from the cold.

Aster stared at her pale lips for a moment, then abruptly hugged her and used his ability. Rité’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden embrace. She tried to break free, but the warmth enveloping her body made her stop. The tension in her muscles and organs melted away. Rité found herself leaning against his broad shoulders, feeling strangely safe.

His gentle pats on her back felt like comforting a child waking from a nightmare. Soon, all her pain vanished.

She had only ever used her ability to heal others; she had never been healed herself. Being healed felt incredibly… warm.

Maybe it was because he was her partner, but just having him close made her feel secure. She had felt the same in the dining hall before, thinking it was a mere illusion. Now she knew it wasn’t.

It made her angry, relying on him despite feeling like he was trying to tame her. Yet, she couldn’t reject it.

As soon as she regained her strength, Rité pushed him away.

“Are you trying to be the poison and the antidote?”

“That’s my style, get used to it.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

The subordinates behind Aster looked at her with surprise at her rude and defiant attitude. Aster, however, seemed unbothered. He stood up and addressed them,

“She’s a troublesome lady, but don’t shun her. Before arriving here, she already had a brawl with the trainees in the dining hall. Shun her, and you might find a fork in your throat in the middle of the night. She must have learned how to hide a fork by now.”

His joke made them chuckle. Rité flinched and turned red, realizing he had anticipated everything.

An assassin must always scout and carry potential weapons for situations when they can’t use their abilities.

Though she was furious at his meticulous planning, she was angrier at herself for feeling relieved to be alive.

A masked man approached and spoke,

“I was curious about the woman who became the Major’s partner. You have a decent ability. I was impressed, especially by the swearing.”

His comment made the others laugh again. No one here would dare speak to Aster like that.

“Normally, trainees go through training for a period before being assigned to the most suitable unit based on their abilities. You’re the first to be placed in a unit immediately upon arrival, especially the Shadow Unit.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t a place just anyone can enter. That’s why a test was necessary. Everyone here went through similar tests. The scenarios varied based on their abilities.”

Rité looked at the masked faces, wondering about their abilities. They all seemed like well-trained killing machines.

Simultaneously, they removed their masks in front of her. Showing their faces was a sign of accepting her as a member of the Shadow Unit.

Aster spoke calmly,

“Now that the first field training is over, we’ll start theoretical lessons. Everyone, continue your tasks. Rité, follow me.”

Despite just finishing the test, they were starting lessons right away. It was merciless, but Rité bit her lip and followed him down the corridor.

The Shadow Unit was located underground. The corridor was empty, and their footsteps echoed.

Eventually, Rité quietly spoke,

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Was Nox… also in the Shadow Unit?”

Aster replied calmly,

“Yes. I trained him myself.”

Rité clenched her trembling hands.

“Why?”

Aster glanced back, puzzled by her question.

“Why did you train Nox personally?”

“Because he had the right abilities and I brought him here.”

“…”

Ten years ago, Aster had taken Nox and trained him as his subordinate. Thinking of Nox’s ten-year presence in this place made Rité feel strange.

“I didn’t know you were so responsible for people.”

Rité’s sarcastic comment was met with Aster’s firm response.

“I make sure to train those I bring here. That’s all.”

Aster continued walking and said,

“I have something to show you. It will serve as a strong motivation for your future missions. Consider it a gift for passing the first test.”

Not understanding his words, Rité stared at him, but Aster walked on silently. She followed him into a room where he pulled out a phone and made a call.

Rité cautiously observed the room, which resembled an operations briefing room. Having been betrayed once, she knew it was wise to familiarize herself with the terrain and layout of any place she entered. Aster glanced at her and smiled, as if he could read her thoughts.

Rité turned away with a dissatisfied expression but then widened her eyes at the sound of Aster’s phone conversation.

“It’s been a while. How have you been, Eisen?”

Eisen was Nox’s codename. From the phone came the voice of a young man, deepened by the passage of time.

“Yes, brother. I’ve been well. What’s the matter?”

Hearing her brother’s voice for the first time in ten years, Rité’s eyes filled with tears, and she covered her mouth to stifle a sob.

Aster glanced at her and continued his conversation.

“I just wanted to check in on you. How did that date go with the person I introduced you to?”

“It was fine, thanks. But I don’t think she likes me much.”

“Why’s that?”

“I tried to be careful, but I guess I got too excited and came on too strong. She’s been avoiding my calls.”

“That’s unfortunate. But don’t be too discouraged. There are plenty of other people to date. Let’s meet up for a meal soon.”

“I’ll treat you.”

“Alright. I’ll hold you to that.”

As the conversation seemed to be ending, Rité desperately wanted to call out to her brother.

“Nox…!”

But Aster looked at her and silently motioned for her to be quiet, pressing a finger to his lips. His expression had turned sharply serious, and Rité fell silent, her eyes wide with surprise.

After a pause, Nox’s voice came through the phone again.

“Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ended.

Nox had referred to Aster as “brother,” but his tone was militarily formal and dry, unlike the playful younger brother she remembered. It was hard to believe that the once mischievous Nox was now an obedient soldier, following orders. Despite the changed demeanor, Rité instinctively knew it was Nox. She could never forget the unique timbre of his voice.

Aster turned to her and spoke.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t talk to your brother just yet. I wanted to let you know he’s alive, so I let you hear his voice.”

Rité asked in a daze, “Brother… Nox called you brother…?”

“Oh, that’s a code. He’s currently in enemy territory. He might be under surveillance or recording, so he can’t call me ‘Major’ over the phone.”

Aster continued with a slightly amused expression.

“I told him to be natural, but his acting skills haven’t improved much. That’s about as good as it gets.”

Nox had referred to Aster as “brother,” but never specifically as “Aster,” keeping his identity concealed. Rité, still in shock, asked again.

“So that talk about a date…?”

“It was about someone he’s been assigned to monitor.”

Aster’s expression turned serious.

“But it seems he was discovered. So, I told him to eliminate the target.”

“What?”

Rité was stunned.

“What do you mean? I didn’t hear anything about that…!”

Then she realized something.

When Aster said, “treat me to a meal,” he hadn’t meant food. He meant for Nox to “eliminate” the target. Rité felt a chill run down her spine. She now understood why Nox had hesitated and spoken so formally at the end of the call.

Aster, satisfied, said, “I’m glad I let you hear the call. You paid attention to every detail.”

Rité asked with trembling eyes, “What have you been making Nox do?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that, are you?”

Rité fell silent, her hands trembling. She couldn’t believe Nox was on an assassination mission in enemy territory.

Aster narrowed his eyes and spoke.

“If you want your brother to stop doing such things, you need to complete your mission quickly. Today’s lesson begins now.”

He handed Rité a stack of papers filled with codes used by the Carta army. Rité’s eyes widened as she skimmed through them. They looked like everyday language but held hidden meanings. She now understood why the Carta army’s information was so hard to come by.

Aster said, “Memorize all of it.”

Rité hesitated but didn’t ask what would happen if she failed. Holding the stack of code sheets made her realize the gravity of her new role in the Shadow Unit.

She was reassigned to a private room, an unusual privilege for a captive and a testament to Aster’s influence. She locked the door, changed out of her wet clothes, and put on fresh training gear. The scent of detergent from the new clothes was mildly comforting.

Exhausted from the day’s events, both physically and mentally, Rité collapsed onto her bed and fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. Despite her exhaustion, she clutched a fork she had found in the room, ready to defend herself if Aster tried to enter.

* * *

How much time had passed?

Rité suddenly came to her senses and opened her bleary eyes. She had fallen asleep sprawled out on the bed as if she’d passed out, but now she found herself lying straight with the blanket neatly covering her up to her neck. Turning her head, she noticed something on the table and her eyes widened. There was a meal along with a note.

[Have your meal and come down to the shooting range. My subordinate will be waiting for you. Location: East Wing A-3]

Recognizing Aster’s elegant handwriting, Rité sprang up and checked the doorknob. It was still locked just as it had been. He had used a master key to sneak into the room and then quietly locked it again before leaving.

Rité narrowed her eyes. It was frustrating to realize she hadn’t noticed him entering the room, especially when she had been holding a fork for defense. To her annoyance, the fork was now gone.

After rummaging through the bed and pillows, she found the fork neatly placed beside the meal tray. It felt like he was mockingly suggesting she use it for eating. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being toyed with.

Suppressing her rising irritation, Rité quickly ate her meal. She wondered if it had been spiked with sleeping pills or some other unknown drug, but her hunger was too overwhelming to ignore. Regardless, she had no choice but to eat whatever he provided. The fact that she had to rely on him for food was deeply unsatisfying.

After finishing her meal, Rité took a deep breath while looking at her reflection in the small mirror on the locker door. Her face, pale and weary, stared back at her, but apart from the emotional toll, she didn’t seem to be physically unwell.

Gathering herself, she tied up her long teal hair and headed straight for the shooting range.

When she knocked and opened the door, a man, acting under Aster’s orders, was waiting for her. He had short brown hair and a rugged scar slashed across one eyebrow. He was the man who had handed her the towel the previous day, standing at the forefront of the Shadow Unit members.

He turned and asked, “You’re Rité Rainhills, right?”

“Yes.”

Seeing her respond casually, a slight smile appeared on his lips.

“My name is Benyak. You don’t need to know my last name; it’s just a codename anyway. Major Aster asked me to check your shooting skills. He mentioned that during your first meeting, you only had one bullet, so he couldn’t properly assess you. The Major likes to be thorough in everything. You were in a vigilante group, right? You must have used a gun before, right?”

Rité stared at him silently before picking up a pistol from the table and firing at the target without expression. Most of the bullets hit the center of the target.

Benyak laughed with admiration.

“You certainly have the skills to fight multiple Carta soldiers at once. You seem to have guts, too. Can you hit moving targets as well?”

“Of course.”

He folded his arms and asked with a grin, “Can we test that right now?”

“Why ask? Just tell me to do it.”

Rité responded flatly, already understanding that any suggestion or question was essentially an order.

“You’re an interesting one.”

He laughed even more.

“Sorry, but I’m not amused at all. I just want to get this over with and go back to resting.”

Benyak spoke cheerfully, “Alright. Assassins should talk less and act more. Put on your protective gear and get inside.”

Without further comment, Rité did as she was told. She realized that focusing on the immediate tasks was the best way to finish the training quickly and minimize her time spent with them.

As she entered the training area, numerous human-shaped targets began moving at various speeds along rails. Some targets popped up from the floor or emerged from behind walls.

In the chaotic, whirling world, Rité stood calmly, loading her bullets and scanning her surroundings.

The moment the timer started, she began hitting the targets with precision. With an intense look in her eyes, she fired at the human-shaped targets, rolling on the ground and moving quickly.

The commotion attracted other assassins who had come to the range for training. They all stopped to watch Rité’s performance.

One of the men muttered, “Is she crazy…?”

Benyak frowned slightly.

“Is she unable to distinguish between civilians and enemies?”

As they noted, Rité was firing at both the civilian dummies and the soldier dummies holding civilians by the neck. This made it appear as though she was indiscriminately killing everyone.

“Does she not understand the rules? What does she think she’s doing by killing everyone?”

Despite her high accuracy, Rité’s score on the scoreboard was dismal. For every +10 points she gained by killing an enemy, she immediately lost -10 points for killing a civilian, keeping her score at zero.

“We have a lot to teach her. At this rate, she’ll kill both enemies and allies alike.”

One of his colleagues muttered, and Benyak replied quietly, “Do you think she even distinguishes between enemies and allies?”

“What?”

Realizing something, his colleague fell silent. For Rité, who had been forcibly conscripted and faced the Carta army as an enemy, both sides were essentially the same. To her, all those involved in the war were just the same kind of people.

Was that the right decision? Without a moment’s hesitation, Rité shot at all the targets. In the ravages of war, it wasn’t the royal family or the republic that protected people. She had joined the vigilante group to protect herself and her village.

The score of zero on the scoreboard perfectly reflected Rité’s stance, neither aligning with the royalists nor the republicans.

Before she knew it, Aster appeared at the door, observing the training scene. The people gathered there noticed his presence belatedly and saluted in surprise. But Aster didn’t blink an eye, focusing intently on Rité’s training through the glass.

Eventually, the countdown ended and the training concluded. Rité, breathing heavily, wiped the sweat from her forehead and neck with the back of her gloved hand. 

Turning her head, she saw a crowd of people standing beyond the glass. However, the atmosphere inside was unnervingly silent, as if time had stopped. The expressions of everyone watching her were peculiar. 

It was no wonder; she looked like she was standing alone in the midst of a slaughtered battlefield.

Breaking the silence, Aster spoke up.

“What were you thinking?”

Rité took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before tilting her head and looking at him sideways.

“What do you mean, what was I thinking? Assassins aren’t supposed to leave any traces at the scene. That’s why I did it.”

“…Is there an assassin who makes such a racket?”

“Well, to escape from the scene of an assassination, you have to use any means necessary. If you can’t escape, you die. Isn’t that right?”

Rité asked nonchalantly, pointedly referencing the water torture-like training Aster had conducted previously. Aster closed his mouth.

Rité threw the gun on the floor and said, “Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy? When have you ever considered civilians while waging war? Killing every innocent civilian to erase all evidence is what you do.”

She smiled at Aster as she spoke, but her blue eyes glinted with the dark light of a wounded animal. She could never forget the day they raided her village, kidnapped her brother, and left her for dead.

Aster spoke calmly, “I understand your intention. But considering what you said, you didn’t completely kill them, did you?”

Not understanding what he meant, his subordinates looked at him, but Rité felt a pang of recognition. Aster glanced at the shot-up targets.

“You’re not as ruthless as you pretend to be. Did you want to give them a chance to live? Did you want to disguise it as a death by shooting non-lethal areas?”

Rité didn’t answer, averting her gaze. The others began to inspect the targets more closely and noticed something.

While all the soldier dummies had been hit in vital spots, the civilian dummies only had holes in non-lethal areas like the limbs.

“Looks like I hit the mark. Well, I guess you intended to heal their wounds later after pretending they were dead, huh?”

“…”

“Impressive skill, but such disguises are easily uncovered. Your misplaced compassion will hinder you at critical moments. In war, today’s ally can be tomorrow’s enemy, and a civilian like you, harboring a grudge, can become an enemy.”

Rité glared at him silently. Aster continued without concern.

“Also, your effective range is only half as long when targets are moving compared to when they’re stationary. Your focus and attention are fixed on one moving target, making it easy to be attacked from behind.”

Rité felt another pang of recognition. During the fight in the dining hall, she had been counterattacked from behind as well.

“If you don’t want to waste bullets, keep practicing. Only then can you avoid running out of bullets at crucial moments and maybe, someday, put a bullet in my head too.”

Aster ended his speech by pointing his finger to his own temple like a gun and giving a sly smile. In that brief time, he had completely grasped Rité’s attack style and weaknesses just by watching her training.

The surrounding assassins were speechless, stunned by the strange conversation between the two.

Aster continued nonchalantly, “If you use your superior abilities as a weapon, the shortcomings I mentioned will significantly decrease. But first, you need to drill into your head the distinction between enemies and allies until it becomes second nature. Keep repeating the shooting practice until you hit 100 points on the scoreboard.”

He looked at Benyak and gave the order, “Repeat the training until she scores 100 points on the scoreboard.”

“Yes, Major.”

Though he answered affirmatively, Benyak was slightly surprised. It was rare to impose such strenuous training on a new recruit who had been there for less than a day.

Finishing his speech, Aster walked out of the shooting range without looking back. Rité glared at his retreating figure.

In the end, Rité managed to avoid hitting any civilian targets, completing the training. Since she already had the skill to distinguish and hit different spots on soldiers and civilians, it wasn’t an impossible task. However, avoiding civilian targets entirely required much more careful movement, doubling the concentration and effort.

Benyak, observing Rité’s skills, was increasingly impressed. Frankly, when he received the order, he thought the training would need to be repeated for several days. But before the day was over, Rité had perfectly executed the order. Aster had already recognized her exceptional abilities before Benyak had.

When the training ended, Rité, drenched in sweat, collapsed on the floor. As she caught her breath, Benyak entered to retrieve her, having confirmed the 100 points on the scoreboard.

Suddenly, Rité sprang up and stood a fallen soldier dummy upright. She wrote “Aster” on the target’s head with a marker, drew a star, and emptied the remaining bullets into the head.

The head, marked with a star, was riddled with holes. When the gun clicked empty, Rité tossed it aside without regret and stood back, admiring her work with satisfaction.

She then picked up the target and headed somewhere, dragging it along. Benyak, standing at the door with a stunned expression, watched her.

Rité raised an eyebrow at him and dragged the target with the bullet-riddled head somewhere.

She arrived at Aster’s room. Tying the target’s limbs with a rope, she threw it onto his bed and returned to her quarters with a light heart. Later, when Aster returned to his room and found it, he chuckled, stroking his chin.

For a while, among the assassins, Rité was nicknamed “Psycho.”