Chapter 8

‘Then I’ll wait a little longer.’

The man thought it better to let Suji fully desire him before proceeding. Like a ripened fruit, she would reveal everything when the time was right. He leaned back into his thoughts, casually speaking to her.

“Don’t be so tense.”

His hand moved to the nape of her neck, gently massaging the soft curve. It was a spot he instinctively gravitated toward when handling living creatures—not to soothe, but usually to harm. Yet with her, he felt an unfamiliar urge to be tender. His fingers moved softly, deliberately.

“I won’t eat or feed you… recklessly,” he added cryptically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Suji felt the heat rise in her face as she met his gaze. She didn’t fully understand his words, but the context made her heart race. The mischievous quirk of his eyebrow gave him the air of a teasing child, albeit a dangerous one. Trying to pull away from his grasp, she wriggled uncomfortably.

Sensing her resistance, he released her with an amused chuckle. Suji stumbled back, turning away with a flustered expression, her hand lifting to wipe her lips—an unconscious reaction to the lingering sensation of his touch.

‘Her reactions are so entertaining,’ he mused, considering how easy it would be to push things further. But before he could act, a faint mechanical whirring cut through the distant cries of the birds.

His expression immediately changed, his lighthearted demeanor hardening into something more serious. He tilted his head toward the sky, listening.

“Stay here,” he said sharply.

“Huh? What? Why?” Suji stammered, caught off guard as he abruptly turned and began walking away.

Had she done something wrong? She racked her brain for an answer but came up empty. Whatever it was, he was now moving swiftly toward the direction they had come from. Suji hesitated, torn between staying put and following him. Her instincts screamed against being left alone in this eerie, hostile environment.

“Wait! I’m coming with you!” she called, her voice laced with panic as she hurried to catch up. He slowed slightly, as if acknowledging her plea but making no effort to stop.

Back at their makeshift shelter, he turned to face her.

“Stay here,” he repeated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Suji faltered, her hand twitching as if to reach for him. But something in his expression stopped her. It wasn’t just the command—it was the weight of whatever had shifted in his demeanor.

“What’s going on?” she murmured to herself, watching as he stepped out, his movements silent and deliberate. He disappeared into the mist without another word.

She stayed behind as instructed, her hands clenching nervously. The minutes felt endless. Every faint sound outside—the rustle of leaves, the distant cries of birds—made her jump. She found herself repeatedly glancing at the door, hoping it would swing open and he’d be there.

‘Is he back?’

But no, the door revealed only the still, suffocating mist. The silence beyond it felt alive, a presence that swallowed any sign of movement. Suji swallowed hard, her chest tightening as she fought the urge to step outside.

‘What if there’s something worse out there?’

Her thoughts spiraled to worst-case scenarios: falling into another pit, encountering a new kind of monster, or worse, being left completely alone in this forsaken place. She clenched her fists, hating how reliant she had become on him.

‘I hate feeling this helpless.’

Her thoughts wandered back to the years after her parents had passed. She had been so young—just stepping into adulthood—and the world had felt impossibly large and overwhelming. To escape that feeling of aimlessness, she had thrown herself into her studies, finding purpose in the pursuit of stability. The grueling preparation for the civil service exam had consumed her, leaving little room for anything else. She had achieved her goal, but it had come from a place of desperation.

‘I’m not the type to just wait for things to happen.’

Sitting idly, waiting for him to return, grated against everything she stood for. She scanned the room, searching for something to occupy her mind.

‘Eggs?’

Her gaze landed on the cracked shells he had left near the fire. The memory of him drinking from them flashed in her mind. She tilted her head, curiosity briefly overriding her unease. What had he seen or heard that made him rush out so suddenly? And why did it feel like it had something to do with those faint mechanical sounds in the distance?

The cracked eggs would rot if left alone. In such a humid place, it was better to deal with them quickly. Suji searched for the lighter and gathered the dried branches he had used previously. Scooping up some sand to create a fire pit, she struck the lighter and soon had a small flame going. The fire crackled warmly, and Suji placed an old, slightly battered pot over it.

Sizzle.

The giant bird eggs began to cook, releasing a savory sound that made Suji’s stomach growl audibly. Glancing at the door, she wondered when he’d return. ‘It would be perfect timing if he came now,’ she thought. ‘He’ll realize cooked eggs are better than raw ones.’ Using a clean stick, she stirred the eggs, watching as they browned slightly at the edges. Her attempt at a makeshift scramble was coming together nicely.

“If only I had some salt…”

Determined to improve her meal, Suji decided to search the ramshackle shelter for anything useful. Digging around, she discovered several small, carved wooden containers. Curiously, she opened the first one and immediately gagged.

“Ugh!”

The rancid stench made her eyes water, and she quickly tossed the container aside. Moving to the second, she sniffed cautiously.

“Oh?”

This one smelled earthy and fragrant, like dried herbs. She shook a small pile of the contents into her hand—crispy, green leaves. Suji sniffed them again but hesitated to taste. Just because they smelled pleasant didn’t mean they were edible. After putting the herbs back, she turned to the third container. Giving it a gentle shake, she was delighted when tiny white crystals tumbled out.

“Salt?”

Tentatively, she touched her tongue to a few grains. A sharp, familiar saltiness spread across her palate. Grinning triumphantly, she sprinkled a small amount over her cooking eggs.

One hour passed, then another, but the man still hadn’t returned. The once-steaming scramble had grown cold. Suji stared at it with a mix of disappointment and resignation. Picking up a pair of makeshift wooden chopsticks, she took a small bite. The eggs were flavorful, the hint of salt making all the difference. Hunger gnawed at her, but she stopped halfway through, setting the rest aside.

‘I should save some for him…’

Even though she was starving, she felt compelled to leave him a portion. She owed him her survival, after all, and it didn’t feel right to eat it all without him.

Sleep began to creep in. Suji’s eyes grew heavy as she sat by the now-dying fire, her half-eaten scramble still on the plate before her. Her head bobbed once, twice, and then she slipped into a light doze, slumping forward slightly, her breath slow and steady as she drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

The mechanical bird’s voice crackled in the damp air, its robotic tones grating on Rex’s ears.

“Rex, Rex, Rex…” it repeated monotonously, like a broken record. Its wing mechanisms whirred incessantly, filling the space with an unpleasant hum. Rex scowled, his focus only partially on the bird. His gaze remained fixed on the swamp below, its dense mist curling like phantom hands over the marshy landscape.

‘What if she’s screaming?’ he thought, his instincts on edge. His mind raced with possibilities—Suji caught in another pit, crying out for help like before. His sharp eyes scanned the distance, unable to shake the thought of her vulnerability.

“Rex, Rex, Rex…” the bird droned on, pulling him back to the present.

“Enough,” he growled, reaching out. His hand tore through the mechanical casing on the bird’s neck with a sharp twist, exposing tangled wires and sparking circuits.

“Rex, Rex, Rex—”

The bird’s voice stuttered into a frenzied loop as its head jerked spasmodically. With a measured tap to its exposed wiring, Rex finally managed to calm the erratic device.

“Reex… Rexx… Identified: Aldos Moor Rex. Special Commander of the Kingdom. Contact liaison: Lorien, Head Alchemist.”

The garbled voice gave way to a smoother, more familiar tone.

[Rex, have you arrived?]

Rex’s jaw tightened as he glanced once more toward the swamp. Was she safe? Was Suji recklessly trying to find him, unaware of the dangers lurking in the marsh?

[Rex, it’s me, Lorien! Answer me!]

The alchemist’s voice edged with frustration, her concern thinly veiled by her usually calm demeanor. Rex let out a slow exhale, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He could faintly hear the alchemists in the background, their hushed tones debating how to locate him with mana-based techniques.

Their reliance on mana always grated on him. As a being imbued with mana himself, he loathed the invasive nature of their methods. The idea of someone probing his very essence with equations and calculations felt like a violation.

“Speak, Lorien,” he said finally, his voice clipped.

[Oh, thank goodness! I was starting to think something had happened to you. The signal from the bird stopped transmitting for two days, and we feared the worst!]

“What do you want?” he interrupted impatiently.

[Still as warm as ever, I see,] she said dryly. [Fine, I’ll get to the point. How’s the mission? Have you located the target?]

She danced around the matter as always, avoiding direct mention of their deadly objectives. Lorien was unlike the others; she detested bloodshed, even if it served the kingdom’s interests. It was no wonder she’d been assigned as his contact. Her cautious, moralistic tendencies were supposed to balance out his detached pragmatism.

But Rex didn’t care. Whether Lorien approved of his work or not was irrelevant. He was a weapon, a tool in the kingdom’s arsenal, and he performed his duties with unflinching efficiency. Her personal qualms meant little to him.

“I’m still observing,” he replied tersely.

[Observing? Rex, you’re not usually one to drag your feet. What’s taking so long? Is there… something unusual about this target?]

Rex hesitated, his gaze shifting toward the swamp again. Her question lingered in the air. Yes, there was something unusual—but not in the way Lorien might think.

“It’s complicated,” he said finally, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t elaborate.

[Rex… don’t forget why you’re there. You know what’s at stake.]

He grunted in response, ending the conversation with a flick of his hand. The bird let out a faint buzz before its mechanisms went silent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

‘What’s at stake,’ she had said. But for the first time in his career, Rex wasn’t sure if the kingdom’s priorities aligned with his own. Suji’s existence complicated everything. She was supposed to be a threat—a danger to eliminate. But the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to see her as an enemy.

His fists clenched at his sides. Whatever the alchemists thought they knew, Suji was proving to be something altogether different—and far more dangerous.