I unzipped the body bag and knocked off the lid of the morgue fridge. Pulling myself out of the cabinet with my remaining hand, I fell to the ground, panting. My eyes squinted under the dim light from the hanging bulb. Why was I alive? What was this place?

As I adjusted to the light, I heard footsteps, rapid footsteps, approaching.

The last thing I could remember was a bullet through my head. I could still sense the pain in my skull. Lord Ky probably thought I was dead and sent me here.

I got on my feet with my remaining arm and looked around. Rows and columns of corpse drawers aligned in the room with barely any light on the ceiling. My magic reserve was low due to improper diet, yet I could still feel three shots of magic bullets in me.

I expended one shot on the light bulb hanging above me, sinking the surrounding area into darkness, which extended to about three drawers away. The guard, wearing a full set of bulletproof armor and helmet, stood before my shadow with his rifle pointing in my direction.

"Who is there?" he asked in a demanding tone then whispered to the walkie-talkie on his collar, "Intruders found. Need back—"

My magic bullet silently went through his forehead before he could finish the sentence. I picked up his rifle and murmured, "Weakling."

Then, a question came to my senses: How was I supposed to use a rifle with one hand? While I was figuring out a way to make it work, the person on the other side of the walkie-talkie replied, "Hello? Henry? Are you still there?"

Judging by the situation, anyone would guarantee one magic bullet was not enough for whatever number of backups coming.

The door to the hallway was opened by the dead man. I may find an escape before they arrive.

Their intention was still unknown. I could be spared if I surrendered here… I may also be sent back to Lord Ky—

Fuck.

Fuck that damn Katien Yeoman! He would pay for what he did to me. I was Ice Shaker, the valedictorian of the best mage academy, and the next strongest hero. My geniuses would not bow, escape, or surrender. Fuck them all. Every barrier that damn Yeoman placed before me, I would slay, and he would die.

I stumbled into my house, tripping on a tissue wad. My face smashed on the wooden floor. With some thrill still left in me, I quickly crawled into the bathroom. After futilely slapping the switch three times, I summoned a purple, glowing marble. It hovered above my head, illuminating the room.

Flipping my curtain-like mess of hair backward, I finally saw the disarray on my face through the mirror: fresh blood stained around chapped lips, meat scraps still stuck in my teeth, and my empty right eye socket adhered by dry gore.

I was finally sane after cleansing my mind with a slaughter. Laughing, I understood why I was alive. Lord Ky did outpace me with his bullet, but not by much. My body enhancement spell was activated right after my right eye was pierced, stopping the bullet before my brain.

I slumped on my toilet, digging the bullet out with my fingers in the socket. I could not stop guffawing. My magic manipulation outclassed everyone, even without my thaumaturgy. My aim was perfect even with only one eye. I was Ice Shaker. I was the fucking strongest.

Granted, I wanted Roason here. I certainly could defeat Lord Ky all by myself, but it would be better if I could have Roason with me. It was nothing personal. I was just used to having Roason by my side. I took out my phone and called him immediately.

He did not pick up the phone right away.

He did not pick up the phone dozens of seconds later.

He did not pick up the phone.

"Fuck," I whispered and made the next call and the call after it. Then, I called again just to make another call.

He answered none of them. After being told to leave a voicemail for the fifth time, I smashed the phone on the ground, leaning back against the toilet lid. Why was he not answering? Shit. Roason did mention he was done with me. He really meant it?

The glowing marble ran out of magic, and the room fell back into darkness. A sudden annoyance popped into my head. I bit my teeth against each other, clenching my shaking fist. Why did I say those shit to Roason? Why did I have to go through all of this? Why?

Fuck.

I shut my eye tight.

The classroom had a whiteboard before the rows of desks and some spare space behind them. There, Roason was facing three of his peers on the first day of the academy.

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"Who do you think you are to mess around with our girl? Kiina's mine. I do not want to warn you again," the leading one said as he pushed Roason in the shoulders. He was slightly taller than Roason.

"Yeah, go digging holes with your own kind," the shorter one yelled behind the leading one. The fat that sat on the desk next to them, watching with a smirk.

"I don't want to hurt you," Roason stated with an undisguisable strength in his voice. The tamed anger on his face was controlled and restrained.

The leading bully's brows twitched. The contempt on his visage was placed by a gushing rage. He grasped Roason's red tie and slapped him on the left cheek.

The impact forced Roason both backward and rotating. He slumped on all fours, igniting his fists immediately. Yet, a kick from the short one blew in his head before he could get up.

"Those burning hands are useless if you can't even land a hit." The fat bully scornfully jumped off the desk, landing on Roason's back. The flame on the defeated hands extinguished without ever being in use.

"Hey, you guys should pick on someone at your own level," I claimed, stepping into the classroom. I originally planned to dodge the class in the restroom, but bullying some bullies was also fine.

"Who the fuck are you?" the leader burst the question out of his mouth while turning toward me.

"The greatest of all time," I dropped the fact without much emotion. The simplest fact needed the least exaggeration.

The twitching wrath appeared again. The tall one rushed toward me and—

Clap.

He was blown sideways, crashing into the rows of desks.

"Oh my!"

"Hell no!"

The two other ones cried out and—

Clap.

Thud.

Clap.

Thud.

I teleported to their back and knocked them out with a blow each. "Weaklings," I murmured as I reached my hand toward Roason Howi.

He grabbed my hand, pulling himself back on his feet while avoiding any eye contact.

"Thanks," he said.

I opened my mouth but gave no words. I pointed at that tall bully with a smile on my face. While groaning, the bully held onto a flipped desk, pushing himself back up.

"The stage is yours." I tapped him on the shoulder, and he dashed forward. A burning fire roared on his right fist. As the punch hurtled through the chilling air, a tail of flares was left with a trail of smoke. Roason's knuckles smashed into the bully's face. The flame on them erupted and blasted the poor man onto the whiteboard.

"Tie," I said as he plodded back to me.

"Hm? You aren't wearing any—"

"Yours." I tightened his loose tie and glanced at the mess we made: half of the desks were flipped, and a huge crack was put on the whiteboard.

I was lying on a blue sofa when I woke up in a set of orange pajamas. The memory in my dream was so clear. I could even recall we later got called to the principal's office. That was a good time, perhaps, the best in my life.

I kicked the blanket off the sofa and stood on it. A tiny table was in front of me. A wide and thin television sat on the console before it. On my right was the entrance, a white wooden door with a green rug beneath it. An archway to the kitchen was on my left. Next to it were the stairs to the second floor. Sunlight shined in through the windows. This house was Roason Howi's house!

I placed my hand on the bandage wrapped around my right eye, grinning. He actually came and picked me up. I let my body fall on the couch and shrilly chuckled at the top of my lungs. After all, Roason Howi was by my side.

The door soon opened. Roason came in with a heavy plastic bag, "Can't you keep your creepy laugh down a bit? Kiina's still sleeping up there."

Nonchalantly shutting the door, he tossed the bag on the table and sat beside me. I just watched him with my smile.

He turned away and quickly looked at me again, "What happened after I left?"

"Well," I straightened my back and spread my hand, "Where's my phone?"

"Explain yourself first."

"I know you. You must've checked it already."

He sighed and buried his upper face in his palms, "It's hard to believe… I want to hear you say it by yourself."

"Lord Ky works with an organ theft organization," I said slowly, word by word, as he wished with a hand on his shoulder.

"Fuck," he mumbled to himself.

"You saw the video yourself." I referred to the video I filmed last night. It was an interrogation of the doctor I found in the morgue. She told me everything started from when Lord Ky first cooperated with them to how the money was split. This doctor must have been a very important person. Sadly for Ky, she was forever gone.

"She may be lying." He faced away. His voice shook. However, I did not pay any attention to it.

"Then how did I end up there after Lord Ky shot me in the eye? Come on. Stop lying to yourself," I smirked and stood up, patting Roason on the back.

Suddenly, he trampled on the floor, standing up. His glare stunned me off my imagination upon our relationship. He grabbed me by my collar and stared into my left eye, which contained nothing but a sudden blankness out of my fluster.

"Just call the police or whatever. Why do you have to call me?" Roason shouted with tears glistening in his eyes. His brows knitted, twitching between an angry scowl and a sad frown.

I opened my mouth intuitively, yet nothing came out of my throat. I could not answer but watch his tears sliding down his cheeks. In his wet eyes, I saw my reflection. I saw a pathetic man, who had lost his arm, nose, half of his lips, and even an eye, still clutching that fake smirk of strength.

It was not the same man I saw in the mirror. It was not the same man I saw in my memory. It was what I had refused to see since the beginning. It was the same child who lacked everything but talent. It was the child who crafted his own ego on power. It was just him. It was always him.

The child wanted company. He desired not to be "the kid who could accomplish anything by himself" anymore. He needed someone to like him instead of his strength… Roason was the closest to that.

I did not really know what I ended up saying. What I did know was it sent Roason crying. He went upstairs immediately with his eyes covered in his arm.