Monisa's words lingered in the air, heavy and unmoving, like smoke that refused to fade.
Hermit reacted first. His eyes narrowed, the warmth draining from them as his mouth pressed into a thin, unreadable line. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered the flintlock, the barrel dipping toward the dirt while his posture remained perfectly straight.
Inside the car, Krineka leaned forward. Her lace-gloved fingers gripped the edge of the seat tightly, knuckles faintly whitening beneath the fabric. Her cat ears flattened against her white fur, tension running through her entire body.
"Swallow Crows, you say…" Hermit spoke quietly, almost contemplatively.
Monisa tilted her head, studying him. Her smile sharpened.
"Yes. Swallow Crows," she replied, stepping closer, boots scraping softly against gravel.
"Afraid now? You should be. We're the strongest among the three Swallow Birds."
Hermit met her gaze without blinking.
"Young lady," he said calmly, "it seems you've made a mistake by saying that."
Monisa's brows drew together. She stepped nearer again.
"What are you saying, old man?"
Hermit's lips curved slightly. Not quite a smile—just the faintest shadow of one.
"The Swallow Crows and the Kugros family are blood enemies. And just now, you admitted you belong to that cult." His tone stayed level.
"Which means you're either unaware of certain things… or you stayed here knowingly to fight."
A flicker of confusion crossed Monisa's face. Her fingers flexed slowly at her sides.
"What are you trying to say?"
Hermit glanced back once toward the car. Krineka sat rigid inside, watching. Then he returned his attention to Monisa.
"Before departing," he continued evenly, "we leaked a fake location regarding our destination. Only high-ranking individuals were given the real one."
Monisa let out a short, sharp laugh.
"Hahaha. You think that would fool me? I'm far more capable than you all assume."
Hermit lifted one gloved finger, calm and patient, as if correcting a small misunderstanding.
"But the real location was fake as well."
The words landed. Monisa's eyes widened. The confidence in her smile faltered for the first time.
"And the true location," Hermit continued, voice steady, "was known only to four people. Myself. Lady Krineka. Her father—Krugo Kugros. And the mayor of Salton City, where we reside."
Inside the car, Krineka's breath hitched. Her lips moved slowly, realization forming piece by piece.
"The location was never written… never recorded…" she whispered to herself.
"It was only spoken… inside a sealed chamber where no outsider is permitted…"
Her blue eyes lifted, sharp now, understanding settling in like cold steel.
"That means…"
Hermit's faint smile returned. At the same moment, he and Krineka spoke together, their voices overlapping perfectly.
"The mayor is a traitor."
Monisa froze where she stood, mouth hanging slightly open. The smug grin she had worn moments ago vanished completely.
Hermit raised the flintlock again, slow and careful, the barrel settling squarely against her chest.
"Now who's the amateur?"
Her gaze flicked to the gun, then climbed back to his face. Her jaw tightened. Nostrils flared. Anger churned beneath her skin, barely contained.
Hermit continued speaking, tone calm, almost courteous.
"That proves the loyalty of the other higher-ups too. They didn't leak the fake real location to anyone. Kept it to themselves. Not even the mayor."
He paused, letting the silence stretch.
"Thank you for this great information. We'll use it later. For ourselves."
Monisa let out a dry chuckle that scraped from her throat.
"Only if you return alive from here, you fucking idiots."
Her hands moved fast. She slipped her fingers into the tight fabric at her chest, reaching between her breasts, and pulled out a thin glass bottle. Inside, red liquid glowed faintly, restless, like embers trapped beneath glass. She lifted it just enough for the light to catch.
Vane's eyes sharpened.
"Strength boost pousun!"
Monisa didn't waste a second. She popped the cork with her teeth, tilted her head back, and drank. Then another. And another. Four bottles in total, swallowed one after the other like cheap liquor. Empty glass knocked against her fingers before dropping into the dirt with dull clinks.
Vane, Hermit, and Azrean could only stare in shock. From inside the car, Azrean's voice cracked.
"Taking one strength pousun can cause heavy internal damage later. Taking four at once? That's just straight-up suicide."
The final bottle slipped from Monisa's hand and shattered on the ground.
She stood there breathing through her nose, chest rising and falling unevenly. A wide, trembling smile stretched across her face. Heat flushed her cheeks deep red. She tilted her head back toward the dark sky, tongue sliding slowly across her lips. Thin strands of smoke leaked from between her teeth every time she exhaled. One hand pressed against her chest, fingers digging in as if she were trying to hold something inside her body.
"It really hurts~"
Vane and Hermit reacted instantly—staff lifted horizontally, flintlock cocked and aimed.
Monisa blinked. Then disappeared. One second she stood ten yards away. The next, she was directly in front of Vane.
The speed struck like a physical blow. Vane barely managed to raise her staff before Monisa's fist smashed into it instead of her face. The crack almost split the staff, sharp and violent, like a thick branch snapping in half. Splinters burst outward. Deep fractures raced through the wood as the staff bent under the impact.
The force hurled Vane backward. She slammed into the ground, rolled twice, then skidded to a stop in a spray of dust.
A smell hit her immediately afterward—thick and foul. Sour chemicals mixed with heated metal and something sickly sweet that clawed at her throat. Her eyes burned. Her stomach twisted violently.
She gagged. Once. Twice. Bile splattered into the dirt beside her.
Monisa laughed, low and amused.
"Hey bitch, are you mocking me? I don't smell that bad."
Hermit swung the flintlock toward her, finger tightening on the trigger.
Without even looking, Monisa kicked sideways. A fist-sized stone shot off her boot like a fired bullet. It struck the pistol barrel with a sharp metallic crack, knocking the weapon clean out of Hermit's hand and sending it spinning into the darkness.
He froze, stunned for half a second.
That was enough. Monisa closed the distance instantly. Her hand shot forward, grabbing his collar. She yanked him toward her and slammed him into the ground. Dust burst upward as his back hit hard, the air driven from his lungs in a harsh grunt.
"Hermit!" Krineka's scream tore from inside the car, raw with panic.
Azrean remained frozen in his seat, hands gripping the dashboard so tightly his knuckles whitened. His eyes darted across the chaos, thoughts colliding.
'Crap! That woman is insane. What should we do… what can I even do? Should I help Ms. Vane? How?'
Vane pushed herself upright slowly, one arm wrapped around her stomach. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, face tightening in discomfort.
"That smell…" Her voice came out strained. "Not only did she take four strength pousun at once… she's pumped full of adrenaline drug too…"
She swallowed hard, forcing down another wave of nausea.
"I'm too sensitive to smells like that and ended up throwing up… badly. I'll need to handle myself."
She lifted her gaze.
Monisa was already standing over her, legs spread wide, that same unsettling smile stretching across her face.
"Boo."