Tempest in the Shallows

Something was off. This was too over the top. I was just a newbie Drifter Captor. Why would they go to such lengths to catch someone like me? Hideo, I could understand, but other soldiers from different cities? That didn’t make sense. Drifter Captors always worked in pairs, never in large groups, to avoid drawing attention. But this—this was a full-scale pursuit. They had dispatched a big team, treating me like I was some high-profile soldier. There was something else at stake here.

Did they already know about the memory card?

That can’t be. Unless…

Hideo had a short temper. I might be able to get him to spill something useful if I riled him up.

I slid off Shiba’s back and stepped toward Hideo. The narrow alley behind the restaurant was a remote area, making it a decent spot to stay out of sight, at least for a moment. I folded my arms and stared him down. “Hideo, what’s the fuss? All this just to catch me? Don’t you think that’s a bit too much? Or are you just not confident you can handle me on your own?”

Hideo stepped forward, towering over me until we were just a step apart. “Listen up, you cocky brat. Thanks to a certain someone, I lost my only partner. Outsourcing help became a requirement to keep the job going.”

“The day isn’t even over, but you guys are already after me. Am I really that important? I’m flattered,” I bluffed, spouting nonsense at this point. But I had to say whatever it took to get him to talk. “So tell me—what do you know? Or perhaps, they don’t tell you anything?”

Hideo smirked mockingly. “You’re rambling like an idiot. What happened? Are you nervous?”

It seemed like Hideo had seen through my attempt to bait him. He clammed up, refusing to reveal anything about what he knew. One thing was certain—he wouldn’t let me slip out of his grasp. I was at a loss for what to do. There was no chance I could beat him in hand-to-hand combat. My body visibly tensed, and Hideo didn’t miss the shift.

Growing more confident, Hideo closed the gap between us. I shifted backward, trying to distance myself, but there was no room to run. My back hit the wall of the narrow alley. I hadn’t realized that I had backed myself into a corner.

“Do you really think you can walk away from this?” Hideo sneered, his towering frame looming over me. “Do you actually believe that?”

Desperate, I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing the cool metal of the gun. But Hideo was faster. Before I could draw it, his hand shot out, seizing my wrist in a crushing grip.

I struggled, pulling my hand frantically to break free from his grasp. He didn’t budge. Instead, he twisted my arm sharply. Pain shot up to my shoulder. I bit down a yelp, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Stop struggling. You’ll only hurt yourself,” Hideo mocked, his voice dripping with smugness as he sniggered triumphantly. It was clear who had the upper hand in this fight.

However, I wasn’t ready to back down just yet. I lashed out with my free hand, aiming for his face. It was too slow and too weak for him. He deflected it easily, his elbow jamming into my forearm. A sharp ache radiated through my bones, forcing me to stagger backward.

He used the momentum to yank me forward, driving his knee into my stomach. The air left my lungs in a painful gasp, and I doubled over, struggling to catch my breath. The pain clouded my vision for a brief second, but I refused to let it stop me.

Hideo growled, “How pathetic.” His other hand reached for my pocket to draw out what I had stored there.

I couldn’t let him take it. The gun was my only card left. Summoning the last of my strength, I twisted my body, using his own grip to spin out of his reach. It was a clumsy, desperate move. But it worked. The unexpected motion caught him off guard, and he lost his hold on my wrist.

“I’m still standing,” I wheezed, clutching the wall for support. Provoking him might backfire, but I took my chances. At this point, anything to distract him would suffice.

Hideo came at me again, throwing a straight punch at my face. I ducked instinctively, his fist grazing my hair. Before I could recover, he followed up with a hook that slammed into the side of my jaw, sending me sprawling to the ground.

The gun slipped from my pocket and skidded a few feet away.

Hideo noticed it instantly. “A gun? Where the hell did you get this?”

As Hideo stepped toward the gun, I lunged forward, grabbing his ankle with both hands. He staggered slightly but managed to stay upright. With a sharp kick, his heel hit my ribs, sending a jolt of pain through my side. Gritting my teeth, I held on, tightening my grip with everything I had.

“Let go!” Hideo barked, raising his foot to stomp down on my hands.

I released him just in time, rolling to the side and scrambling toward the gun. My fingers barely brushed the grip before Hideo was on me again. He grabbed the back of my shirt, hauling me off the ground like a rag doll and slamming me hard against the wall. Pain exploded through my body, stealing air from my lungs. Every movement was a fresh wave of agony.

“Enough!” he hissed, his face inches from mine. His body trembled with rage.

Desperation fueled my next move. I brought up my knee hard, catching him in the stomach. He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to slip free. I dove for the gun at the first chance I had, my hand closing around the handle. Scrambling to my feet, I pointed it at him, my chest heaving with each breath.

“Stay back,” I managed, my voice trembling.

Hideo froze, his hands raised slightly. For the first time, he didn’t advance.

“Spill it. What do you guys want from me?” I demanded, though my shaky voice betrayed the intimidation I was aiming for.

Hideo remained silent, but his eyes shifted to something behind me. Before I could glance over my shoulder, I felt something cold press against my back. I quickly realized what it was—just as I had my gun aimed at Hideo, someone had theirs aimed at me.

“I believe you have something that isn’t yours.”

I recognized that voice instantly. Even though the tone was colder than I remembered, it was still the same voice I used to hear almost every day. It was Yuna’s.

Gulping nervously, I raised both my hands and slowly turned around. I hadn’t noticed Shiba had already been chained up and shut down by the wall, too caught up in the fight with Hideo. Yuna stood before me, her red hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore her blue military uniform, a gun aimed directly at me. Her face was the same, still as beautiful as before. But the light in her eyes was gone. She looked empty, dead inside.