I switched on the bathroom's lights and moved closer to the sink, my gaze fixed on the smooth mirror above. Although I preferred not to see my poignant reflection, this time was necessary. I had to determine to what extent I recovered.

"That midget didn't go easy on me," I said as I removed my shirt, displaying a purple stain covering about half of my torso.

The bruise didn't bother me in and of itself. It's been healing properly, and I knew I'd be back to full strength soon enough. But there was something more that made me scowl as I raised my eyes to a claw-like scar that ran long over my chest.

As I swept my fingers across the scarlet lines, I could still feel the burn. The truth's etched into my body, reminding me of what happened. The reason I gave everything I had and was in financial jeopardy.

Even clarinadryl couldn't save me after I became infected with a monster's pathogens. Slowly but steadily, I was dying. The only reason I survived was because the authorities discovered me before I bled out completely. Plus the fact the cut itself was long, but not deep.

If you asked me, the hardest part has been the recovery. I was just waiting in the hospital bed, hoping for the best. Even when I closed my eyes, I could still clearly envision the room I was in. Small but tidy. Not because I could or wanted to keep it that way, but simply because the nurses were so tedious in their efforts to maintain the whole place immaculate. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance, except for the fact that I didn't have any personal belongings other than the few gifts Connor and Reyna had brought me. Worse, the odor of bitter pharmaceuticals and the dominant color of those blanched walls lingered in my mind to this day.

I detested hospitals with an indescribable fervor.

And even then, I understood that if I kept breathing, I'd be wagging a losing battle for the rest of my life. What I had to do was obvious, yet because those two siblings continued pestering me at the hospital, I made up my mind and decided to keep fighting instead of ending it there.

Depressing stories aside, it seems I've lost some weight since the last time I took a good look in the mirror. My cheekbones were apparent, and my jaw was sharp as it could get. There wasn't even a shred of flab visible on my face. The mental picture I had of myself didn't quite match the one I observed, my mind going numb while I stared astonished.

I avoided looking in the mirror because it made me feel inadequate, even though that wasn't the case now. The young man with gray eyes in front was lithe and athletic. Taller than what I remembered, and just what I longed to be.

It was tough to accept I had been lying to myself all this time. The fact that I only discovered the truth after such a long period and only because of my bruises made it even more difficult to swallow. It felt forced as if the egg's shell had been cracked by some outside force, rather than the chicken hatching when its time came.

Aside from that, I needed to shower. I sweated a lot more than my hunter companion on the jog home. I wondered how far behind him I'd be if he went all out...

"And I shouldn't forget to apply some ointment on those bruises after..."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I wasn't sure how much it helped, but I honestly thought it did. I mean, I'm in far better shape compared to when I left the Underworld.

"If it weren't for that freak..." I growled, running my fingers through my hair as the water kept pouring onto me.

Covered by the flowing shower, I had the impression that another faint sound could be heard. A sort of vibration. Such a sound could only have one source.

"Probably the phone..."

I didn't give it much thought at first because I figured it was Connor, prepared to annoy me as he often does. But as soon as I considered the possibility that it was Logan, I wrapped the towel around me and marched into the living room, hunting for the phone in the pockets of the pants I flung around.

Once I found it, I tapped on the screen and asked: "Yes?"

"About time, you brat," Logan muttered, and despite the way he stated it, his tone indicated that he was eager to speak with me. "How are you doing?"

I told him, "I came from a jog," leaving out most of the specifics.

"Good," he replied. "You've got to stay in shape in case you have to flee from those monsters."

"Logan, I can fight too—"

"No," he shut me down firmly. "You're a porter, Gray. And you will respect your position. The fact that you got involved the last time was an oversight on my part, and I'd prefer that it never happen again."

That was quite irritating to hear.

"But you said I was better than some mercenaries!" I said, my gaze drawn to the artifact on the table. With that dagger, I could put up a good fight with anyone. Be it monsters or humans.

"You certainly are, but tell me what kind of mercenary opposes the party leader's commands to put himself in danger," Logan yelped, then sighed as he realized he has been too harsh. "Please don't make me regret bringing you along, Gray."

I dug my nails into my fist and spat out an: "Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh."

Nothing would make me happier than to get through the 4th District without encountering any monsters. I wasn't going to go out of my way to track them down. There was no reason to add to Logan's worries.

"That's great to hear. Now, pick up that huge backpack and come over here to the grocery store. No, let's meet at the plaza instead. You know... the one in the 2nd District—"

That rang an alarm in my head.

"We're going now?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

There was. I'm currently injured, but if everyone was prepared to go, then being the only one to oppose that decision would be difficult...

"No. I was just stunned to learn we were leaving so soon. That's all."

"Things just happened this way," Logan muttered. "I mean, if everyone's willing to go now, then let's just get it over with. But for now, we have a bigger threat to face than the 4th District..."

When I heard that, my brows arched unconsciously. What would be so inconvenient that Logan would consider it a serious problem?

"What's the matter?"

"My wife," he declared, his harsh voice trembling with fear. "I forgot to tell her about our expedition."

There were no words to express how empty I was.

"So, let me get this straight. We're not going to the grocery store just to resupply, but to persuade Ava to let you go to the 4th District?"

That, ironically, meant Logan didn't tell her I'd be out of commission for a while... That indicated she expected me to show up to work... It was undeniably a crisis, I reasoned. We needed to find a solution as soon as possible.

"M-mostly. But we'll figure something out! We're the Hawkes, aren't we?"

That's the name of our party...

"We'll meet at the plaza first, right? I'll head over there right away," I replied, then hung up the call as I reached for the new box of clarindaryl with the other hand. According to what I've told him, it shouldn't be in this good of shape or filled with tablets. I had no choice but to do something about it...

Oh, and Logan, I'm scared to inform you that when Ava gets upset, she's far more dangerous than any of the monsters we might encounter. After all, he shared a house with that monster, and I knew how vicious she could be when it came to people or situations she didn't like.

Logan, whatever you do, don't perish until I arrive, okay?