When Key opened his eyes again, he saw R.O.S. shaking his arms and heard him calling his name at a moderate volume.

"Are you alright?"

Key nodded weakly at a barely perceptible angle. He sat up as he felt a burning pain around his neck.

R.O.S. held a hand some distance behind Key's back, supposedly preventing Key from falling if he suddenly faints.

Key pressed a finger against the bruise on his neck and flinched immediately. Meanwhile, his wandering eyes fell on the attacker, who was now lying among the glass shards and a thin haze produced by R.O.S.'s ability.

"I'm sorry. I should've been here earlier," R.O.S. said, watching Key push his left palm against the ground and clumsily stand up while lifting his plastered arm in the air.

"It's fine. You don't need to worry about me." Key plodded to his bed, grabbing his arm sling. For this entire time, his sight did not leave the body on the ground. He asked, "Is 'e still alive?"

"I only knocked him out. We already have too many corpses and too little information. If he is really an assassin sent by Alt-Evolvers, it would be a huge advancement in the investigation."

Key sat atop the bed. Too much was flying through his mind, yet too little stayed. A blunt headache had his thoughts as clean as a stainless paper. He stayed silent for a while and asked, "'Ow did they know we're 'ere?"

"I don't know. Maybe they have people watching us. Our activity here is not so discreet, after all."

Key did not say another word. He put a hand on his forehead and kept his eyes closed. Everything was just too fuzzy. He wanted to ignore the dull pain, yet it had already occupied his head.

R.O.S. sat on the little wooden chair in the room, waiting quietly. His seemingly negligent action gave Key a short break. An ephemeral peace was established in the silence and behind Key's closed eyelids.

Within ten minutes, some officers came and drove the two back to CAPD's headquarters. The fainted attacker was put in a separate police van.

Key fell asleep shortly after entering the car, and R.O.S. chatted with the driving officer about the night. After they began to hear Key's low snoring, the topic slowly shifted away from work.

"Are you sure we should be putting the boy through this?" the officer asked, glancing at the sleeping teenager through the rearview.

"He's supposed to be a hero in the future. He will face situations that are much worse than what happened today."

The officer paused, took another brief look at Key, and said, "'E's still a kid."

R.O.S., on the passenger seat, looked over his shoulder to see Key's muscular yet fragile body and the drop of saliva about to fall off his lip. His eyes averted. Then, he turned back to face the front. "He's tough enough," R.O.S. said to both the driver and himself.

"Yeah… My son is never going to become a police."

"How old is he?"

"Five, but I'd break 'is leg if 'e dares to tell me 'e wants to be like dad in the future." The officer smiled, and R.O.S. tittered slightly.

"Maybe he will want to be a hero instead, Jim." R.O.S. went along with the joke.

"Oh please, I'm not you. I can't imagine my son being a 'ero."

"Yo, what are you talking about? I'm not even married."

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"You're not? But don't you 'ave a kid in the academy?"

"Loter? He's not my son. I just need to look after him."

"I see. You're like an uncle or something?" Jim lightly nodded.

"Not exactly, but close enough."

Jim let out an amused snort and said with a raised voice and an uncontrollable curve on his lips, "Oh, Ros. You know what Billy said? 'E said your wife cucked you with a white guy. That's why the kid is so damn white." Jim's laughter continued. The ridiculousness of the story had R.O.S. stuck between irritation and mirth.

The next day, Key woke up in the police sleep room. Since the space was completely lightless, Key fell to the ground the moment he tried to sit up from the bed.

The door was then opened halfway by an officer. She stuck her head into the room and asked, "Are you alright?"

The shaft of light entering from the ajar door had Key holding his left arm before his eyes. Factually speaking, he did land on his plastered arm when he slipped off the bed, but he decided not to make a scene of it. "Yup, nothing's wrong. Just 'ad a bad dream."

"Great, the phone on the nightstand will ring if you're needed," the female officer replied and deftly closed the door, not wasting an extra second before getting back to her own business.

The dark room went back into silence. Key recline against the nightstand while rubbing his face with his good hand. He learned his habit from Loter, and just now, he figured it was pretty effective in sobering up.

Afterward, he gathered just enough energy to lift himself up and climbed back onto the bed. He sighed and began recollecting what had happened last night.

He first thought about the assassin. Almost instantly, three other ways he could have approached the fight popped up in his head. It was in hindsight he realized how stupid it was to forget the assassin's invisibility completely.

Key clenched his good hand, denting his palm with his nails. He knew his wishful thinking had gotten him again last night. That was not supposed to happen, and it was especially so after Dowii addressed this problem so many times.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and repeated until his nails quitted stabbing his palm.

Key then rubbed his chest, specifically on his freshly gained bruise. He could sense a blunt and light pain as he pressed down. It was not severe, yet it was still there, reminding him that his body was as weak as before. If it were Ramiron, that blow to the chest would not even be considered an attack but a mere tap.

Key rolled onto the right side of his body, facing the wall. He then recalled what had happened a bit earlier: A voice was telling him the location of the attacker even before the fight broke out.

Back then, he was too occupied to reflect upon it. Now, he could actually look back at the experience; Key realized it was exactly the kind of growth in ability he was searching for. He was supposed to be excited and even feel cheerful, but the feeling just did not emerge.

Key was thinking about it rather rationally. He had to make sure it was real. He needed to ensure those words were not his hallucination.

'Ow did I make the voice appear last time? I was just lying there at the time. What did I do?

With an instant insight, Key slapped himself on the forehead. Then, he did it again with more strength.

No, that does not work. What else did I do at the time?

Key continued to ponder on this problem as he tossed around in the bed. He reached his plastered arm out so he would not press on it when he lay on his right.

What if I just think about it? Would the voice just answer my question? I 'ave to try. Where are Alt-Evolvers?

Key asked the question in his head and opened his eyes. He turned and lay supine on the bed with his limbs resting beside him.

Key shut his eyes again to focus on his hearing. Yet, there was nothing to hear except the low humming of the air conditioner.

After a short sigh, Key flipped to his left to face the wall again. His ruminating proceeded.

That's not 'ow it works. One more possibility checks out, but which one is the one that works?

He turned and lay on his back again. Just as he was about to sit up from the bed, the voice appeared again.

Believerance's Hospital.

What is that? Say it again. Where are Alt-Evolvers?

Believerance's Hospital.

Key repeated the name to himself and dug his hand into his shorts' pockets. Finding nothing inside, he reached for the nightstand. Since it was on his right side, Key had to hold his plastered arm in the air while sweeping his left hand on the wooden top.

Knocking off what seemed to be an alarm clock and almost doing the same to a landline, he picked up his phone and turned it on.

Sharp light jabbed him in the eyes as his lock screen of an armored game character popped up. Key, while squinting his eyes and facing away, glanced at the upper right corner of his phone.

The eighteen percent remaining power had reddened the battery icon. Ignoring it, Key opened his search engine and began battering his left thumb on the digital keyboard.

Believerance's Hospital… Six blocks away. Is that the location of another Alt-Evolvers' assassin, or is that the location of their secret lair? Should I tell this to Ros?

Key stared at the map on his phone. The darkness of the room made the screen light sharply dazzling.

He swallowed a mouthful of his own saliva.