I rush back to the lodge, hoping to see my supposed guardian in this new world, my acting parent, an old monk by the name of Sailo. He is a giant Kari, a scaled person who has a beak of a phoenix, full black eyes like those vengeful spirits in an Asian horror film, and gills on his back only heard from the bygone tale of nymphs of the unforeseen seas. He was no stranger in this town, a known hermit who lives in the empty ruins of a once-known citadel sitting on top of the glorious mountain viewed from this very ground.

I keep running and passing each familiar alley with my heart throbbing so fast and deafening. I felt troubled...careless… and if I hadn’t been selfish and listened, I wouldn't be in this frantic mess.

I glance at the teleporting booth beside the colossal landmark of the town, a shopping center built beyond the imagination of engineering and design from my Earthly experience and eyes. The building is made of four transparent giant loops connected to one another. Each loop is a different shop, but the first loop on the ground is bigger and acts as an open gallery where the model products of the shops on the upper floors are displayed. Customers are lining up at that place, browsing which product they'll buy without ascending to each respective floor.

I thought of using the teleporting booth beside the shopping center to reach the lodge as soon as possible, but I was not a registered creature in this town to use the simple amenities of this unmagical fantasy-looking land. Even access to any of this world's communication devices could not be acquired by an outsider like me. I have nothing else to rely on to look for the old monk, but only hope that he's looking for me too and that he went back to the lodge where we stayed last night. As I hurried on the way, guided by the waving high variegated bushes on the hill entrance of the lodging not too far from this downtown, a tall female Relas walked in my direction. I was struck by its beauty, reminding me of the folklore of a nine-tailed fox. Mystical indeed... she passes by, my gaze follows unlike the other men with their perverted eyes.

"You new here.", a toneless voice intrudes. I could feel his presence behind, too close to my petite body, and his stature is obviously towering over me. I did not answer and bent my head as I walked away in my hooded cloak, and the dowdy goggles & weird mask. The stranger followed, with his shadow already ahead of me. I stopped to let him pass but he bumped into me. I felt a hard shaft touch my back from the intentional impact. Suddenly, a sharp blade slowly shifted in size, lengthening inside. The pain slowly crawls below my aching back from the thrusting blade. I hold my dagger hidden in my robe when he suddenly grabs my waist, so tight. Then on my arms, as if he knew I was to draw my defense. He squeezed my frame, pressuring the pulsating pain under my skin. I slipped my dagger into my other hand, and without a second thought, I bore it into his flesh. He stepped back, withdrawing the blade near my spine and my dagger- don’t know where it pierce. I staggered to my feet, and almost stumbled as the pain doubled with heat.

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Surely, my thick dark cloak conceals my bloodstain, but my attack on this stranger is not discreet, however, people are still mindless at that moment. The stranger swirls me to his side, 'I stabbed him in the chest’, the first thought that came to mind when I glimpse his white blood from the wound I gave.

White blood? Could he be… No way

Immediate fear clouded my thoughts, but neither could I escape when my body already weakened from the laceration on my back. And any movement feels like I'm about to break in half. Blood dripping on the ground- hoping it wouldn't trail. Dizziness taking over... "ughh", an immediate grunt escapes my mouth when his free hand travels inside my cloak, he clutches into my stomach, I could feel his nails…no... his claws. I squirm from pain, while he fakes and assists me like a crippled lady. Putting my arm on his shoulder, while his other hand encircled my side. I am literally hanging by his broad shoulder, while feeling the wound spreading inch by inch, stretching as he drags me on my tiptoe towards an enclosed cubicle of the local teleporting booth. And yet still, this bloody encounter is obscured from hundreds of passersby… or simply because I was attacked secretly and I scream in silence, avoiding more attention to risk my identity.

I am feeling lightheaded and my breathing is shallow, on the verge of keeping sane from this torturous pain. Blood trickling from the laceration on my back, and a hole in my stomach. But if I die, at least I should know my captor's face.

I looked up to glance but to my dismay, he was wearing a mask.

'Even assassins in this world wear masks, huh?.'