The True Formula

"Hahahahaha! I did it!"

Excited laughter rang through the woods.

Johnson was elated. He had successfully completed the meditation and awakened his magic. His uncle had been right: after drinking the spring water, he really could see different colors. Even the crows overhead had changed, becoming dreamlike and fantastical, like a ring of rainbows spinning in reverse.

"Huh, Sean?" Johnson called out when he noticed Sean beneath a distant tree. "You came too?"

Sean leaned quietly against the trunk and nodded without replying.

Immersed in his joy, Johnson didn't mind. He tilted his head back and stretched out his arms, as if he meant to embrace this mysterious world.

"It's so beautiful..." he sighed.

Where else could you see such beautiful crows?

Jenny, Wilson, and Jim woke one after another. The latter opened his palm, and a ball of flame sprang to life there—this was the trick Sean had performed in the car earlier. Now Jim could do it too!

"So this is what it feels like to have power." Johnson conjured a flame in his own hand and spoke in a daze.

He had learned to control fire as well.

It was a skill every wizard instinctively mastered upon gaining magic.

Fire was the origin of all things and the cornerstone of civilization. After countless years, it had become deeply ingrained in humanity's blood and bones. Every person who first encountered the occult and became a wizard mastered the same thing first: the flames that symbolized life.

"Jenny, how are you feeling?" Johnson remembered to check on his girlfriend.

"I..." Jenny had meant to say that she had awakened too, but suddenly she heard footsteps approaching from far away. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a mass of shadows rushing closer beneath the dark trees. For some reason, Sean's warning came to mind, and a powerful unease welled up inside her. She stammered out a different answer. "I-I didn't awaken."

Johnson paused, then reassured her. "It's okay. Get some rest, then try drinking more spring water in a bit. You're so smart, you'll definitely awaken."

"If nothing else, you've still got me."

He thumped his chest and promised with conviction, "I'll protect you from now on. As long as I'm here, no one will lay a finger on you!"

Before Jenny could reply, a sudden round of applause came from the woods.

"Clap, clap, clap."

"What a touching vow of eternal love."

A man stepped out of the shadows, applauding the young couple's beautiful romance with a smile.

He wore a brown-black leather jacket, with a revolver at his waist. His hair was somewhat unkempt, and his beard was only half-shaved. Yet those careless features concealed a pair of eyes like a leopard's. A dangerous, feral aura radiated from him.

He had killed people.

That was Sean's first impression.

Wilson watched him warily, while Jim thought the man looked familiar.

"Who are you?" Johnson asked irritably. His attention was still fixed on the magic he'd just gained and his girlfriend Jenny, so he hadn't paid much mind to the approaching footsteps—or perhaps he had noticed them but hadn't thought anything of them. He certainly hadn't expected the man to be so rude.

He was about to give the man a piece of his mind when he saw more and more people approaching.

One after another, dozens of figures emerged from the woods and lined up behind the man in the leather jacket.

Their clothes were unmistakable. They looked like followers of some church, wearing black robes lined in red. Hoods obscured their faces, making them hard to see, but their killing intent was unmistakable.

Because they had guns in their hands.

"Whoosh!"

The man in the leather jacket raised a hand, and everyone immediately lifted their guns and aimed at the group in front of them.

The atmosphere turned icy in an instant.

Even the slowest person should have realized by now that these people meant trouble.

With dozens of dark gun barrels pointed at him, even Johnson—usually bold, and now swollen with confidence after gaining magic—couldn't help feeling uneasy. But Jenny was watching. Love and pride could give a person courage, so he forced himself to speak, pulling the girl behind him. "Who are you people? Why are you pointing guns at us?"

The man noticed his gesture and said approvingly, "You really mean what you say. That's manly."

Johnson tried to sound tough. "Tell your people to lower their guns!"

"Sorry, can't do that." The man smiled and shook his head. "It's our duty to kill you."

"What kind of bullshit duty is that?" Johnson snapped. "Are you the world police? You even respond to calls in a primeval forest?"

"Because you drank something you shouldn't have," the man replied.

"You've been watching us?"

Johnson was genuinely angry. He hated having his privacy invaded more than anything. But under the pressure of all those guns, his outrage couldn't help sounding weak. "You know we're wizards, and you still dare to do this?"

The man laughed at his ignorance and courage. "Why wouldn't I dare?"

"Has no one ever told you that wizards are exactly who we kill?"

"Should we introduce ourselves before we get started? Why don't you go first?"

"...Never mind. I'll help you out."

"You're Johnson, and your girlfriend is Jenny. You're both students at Gasri University. This is Wilson, a fitness trainer, and Jim, formerly a mercenary. The one standing farther away is Sean, a novelist. Am I right?"

"You are all wizards."

The man pointed them out one by one, his smile meaningful. "And I'm a Witch Hunter, in charge of dealing with you."

At the word "mercenary," Jim finally remembered where he'd seen the man before—the battlefield!

They'd served on the same mission and fought side by side during the Battle of Yage Bay!

"You're... Winster?" Jim asked.

"Finally recognized me," the man sighed. "It's a shame we don't have the chance to catch up anymore."

Jim heard the regret in his words, the helplessness of a parting that would last forever. He looked Winster in the eyes and walked toward him step by step, putting their friendship of old to the test.

"You're going to kill me?"

"He wouldn't dare!"

Johnson tried to defend his right to live with the law, shouting furiously, "I've never even heard of Witch Hunters! You're murdering innocent people! This is a crime!"

Winster replied, "I have to kill you."

He paid Johnson no further attention.

The closer a friend was, the more important it was to leave nothing to chance.

That was the rule. Witch Hunters had to prove themselves, too.

"Sorry, my friend."

As Jim came closer, the hand hidden behind his back began to glow with fire. Winster gave a soft sigh and closed his eyes.

"Bang!"

A deafening gunshot rang out.

A bullet fired from the gun of a follower beside Winster, sending a flock of birds scattering into the air.

The instant the gunshot rang out, Jim instinctively raised a hand to shield himself, but it was useless. The flame in his palm had already surged into a blaze and condensed into a sphere. Whether he meant to use it to block the bullet or attack Winster, he failed either way.

The bullet pierced the flames and struck him between the eyebrows.

In an instant, his head burst apart like a watermelon, spraying a cloud of scarlet blood.

Winster raised a hand with practiced ease, just in time to block the splattering blood.

Jim's body crumpled to the ground. Half his face was gone, and one eye stared wide open, as if he still couldn't believe that his former best friend had actually shot him.

Wilson was horrified. Sensing disaster, he turned and ran without hesitation. The overwhelming sense of danger, mingled with the smell of blood, drove him to flee.

He wanted to escape!

He had to get out and tell Conina to run, too!

But a wizard apprentice who hadn't yet learned any escape spells was no faster than an ordinary person. How could he possibly outrun a bullet?

"Did I say you could leave?" Winster asked calmly.

"Bang! Bang! Bang...!"

Several more gunshots rang out.

A series of ghastly blooms of blood burst across Wilson's back. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his body twitching uncontrollably. He desperately lifted his head, trying to get back up and run, but could only raise his neck a little. He struggled with all his strength for several seconds, then collapsed again. His unwillingly open eyes were bloodshot as he stared back the way he'd come.

A deathly silence followed.

Jenny's face was deathly pale. Looking at Jim and Wilson's gruesome corpses, she felt an intense wave of nausea rise from her stomach and surge into her throat. She could barely keep herself from vomiting. Her hands, gripping Johnson's shoulders, trembled uncontrollably.

Johnson was just as terrified. Only now, with two living people he'd been happily chatting with mere minutes ago lying in front of him with their heads blown apart, did he understand that Winster hadn't been joking... These people really would kill!

Their gruesome deaths made him face one undeniable truth—

Even with magic, they stood no chance against the weapons their enemies carried.

"W-why...?" Johnson's lips began to quiver.

Why hunt wizards?

"You don't need to know." Winster offered no explanation. There was no need. He casually wiped the blood from his hand on his clothes and said, "You have two choices."

"One: try to fight back or run, like they did. You'll just have to be faster than my gun."

"Two: give up resisting, surrender, and come quietly with us."

Winster continued, "You'll probably die eventually either way, but I personally recommend the second choice. At least you'll live a little longer. What do you think?"

The stark contrast between the deaths of Jim and Wilson and Winster's casual tone, even his faint smile, was jarring. In Jenny's eyes, he seemed like a heartless devil. Jim had been his friend! The suffocating pressure finally shattered her resolve, and Jenny screamed in desperation, "No! I'm not a wizard! You can't take me!"

Johnson forced himself to stand on trembling legs and said in a quavering voice, "My girlfriend never awakened. Let her go."

"Oh?" Winster gave Jenny a half-smile. "Did you really not awaken?"

People could lie, but Smell Crows couldn't.

All the Smell Crows' feathers had changed color, proving that no one here was innocent.

The person among them with the least magic had 1 Lac, enough to qualify as a wizard.

Winster's gaze felt so piercing that Jenny thought it would bore right through her. Fear of death made her burst into tears. "I'm really not a wizard... Please believe me, I'm really not! Waaaah..."

"Don't cry. It won't help. I've never believed in a woman's tears, but..."

"Since you two are so devoted to each other and have let me witness the beauty of love, I'll make an exception and give you a chance."

"Johnson, didn't you want to protect her?"

Johnson clenched his fists. "Let her go, and I'll come with you!"

"No. You're not the one I want. I want her." The more cowardly someone was, the easier they were to control. Winster had an interesting idea. He looked at Jenny again, a teasing smile curling his lips, and said, "Take the gun at your waist and use it to kill your boyfriend. Then I'll believe you have no magic."

The moment he finished speaking, their expressions changed drastically.

It was a cruelty that struck at the heart.

Tears streamed down Jenny's face, and Johnson could no longer hold back his anger. "You bastard, don't push us!"

He might as well fight these bastards. Even if he and Jenny couldn't survive, he could take a few of them down with him!

Magic gathered in his hand.

But just then, a cold, hard object pressed against his back.

Johnson turned around instinctively.

Jenny was already crying her eyes out. The hands that had embraced him countless times were gripping a delicate little pistol.

It was the gift he'd given her for protection when they'd joined the club and gone on their first expedition.

"Jenny, you..."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Johnson... Waaaah, I don't want to die. If only one of us can live, then one of us should survive. As long as you're alive, there's hope... Isn't there?" Jenny sobbed.

Her tears fell one after another, sliding down her cheeks and landing on the grass.

Johnson went cold all over, his face ashen. He had never dreamed Jenny would make this choice.

Did she not love him at all?

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to ask her something, but there was no time.

Winster's voice was like a devil's whisper. "Little girl, I'm running out of patience."

"Bang!"

The trigger was pulled, accompanied by the girl's heart-rending wail.

That morning, Jenny killed Johnson.

"Nicely done. You've got potential. I'll do what I can to argue for leniency. If you perform well from now on, you might even be able to join us Witch Hunters," Winster said with a faint smile.

As for what it meant to perform well, he was sure Jenny understood, even if he didn't say it.

She was a clever, beautiful girl.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Jenny stared at Johnson, who was lying in a pool of blood and still glaring at her. The gun slipped from her hand, and she broke down sobbing.

Winster ignored Jenny and turned to Sean.

"Your turn, Mr. Novelist."

He smiled. "You didn't think I'd forget you just because you weren't saying anything, did you?"

"Floris Hospital specifically asked for you. They even sent someone here just for your sake."

As he spoke, one of the followers beside him voluntarily pushed back his hood, revealing a familiar face.

Sean had seen him before—at the front desk of the morgue building. He was the orderly.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Sean."

"Dr. Quill sent you?" Sean asked.

The orderly smiled. "That's right. Dr. Quill is very fond of your novels."

Sean asked, "So?"

"Come back with me," he said. "You know our hospital's facilities are better than anywhere else."

Sean looked at him. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to dispose of you." The man spread his hands. "Dead or alive, I have to take you back. It's my mission, and I hope you can understand, Mr. Sean."

Sean sneered. "You want to kill me, but you still put on a polite act and ask me to understand. Are Witch Hunters always this hypocritical?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm curious myself. Three of your companions have died right before your eyes, yet you can still keep your composure and avoid being affected. Have you always been this calm, Mr. Sean?" the orderly asked.

"Because I've been preparing a surprise for you." Sean raised both hands, faint golden light spilling from his palms.

It was a signal that neither side would back down.

"I'd like to remind you, Mr. Sean, that bullets travel faster than guided spells. The magic you've learned so far can't stand up to firearms, either. Jim is the perfect example."

"But from the looks of it, Mr. Sean has already made up his mind. In that case..."

"Let's give it a try."

The man waved his hand and ordered, "Switch to armor-piercing rounds."

He hadn't forgotten that Sean had once asked someone to buy him a bulletproof vest.

If this was the surprise Sean had in mind, if he was hoping to escape in the confusion, then he was bound to be sorely disappointed.

But...

He had guessed wrong.

The bulletproof vest wasn't the surprise. It was merely a ploy Sean had used to mislead them into increasing their firepower.

The real surprise was a kind of magic they might never even have heard of: the True Formula.

The more ferocious the enemy's attack, the more ferocious his counterattack.

"Fire."

"Bang, bang, bang...!"

At the attendant's command, dozens of gun barrels erupted with flashes of light all at once.

It was a merciless hail of bullets. The man who had knowingly crossed their line would have nowhere to run and would pay the most tragic price. Even now, they remained confident in the final outcome. Just as the Flame Crow Girl had said, low-ranking witches couldn't resist bullets. They would only become one of countless riddled corpses in the Witch Hunt.

That was until a golden light surged into view.

Only then did they realize Sean's magic wasn't fire, something witches were born knowing how to control. Nor was it frost, rock, or raging wind and lightning. Instead, it was a series of characters shaped like "F."

They seemed to peel away from Sean's palm and drift into the air, forming a huge golden ring that radiated a glow steeped in reason and knowledge.

The characters covered the ring's edge, linked by "=" signs and carved into it like an inscription. They set out a series of arcane laws familiar to every ordinary person and witch alike—

"F=-F'"

The essence of matter is energy.

And the effects of energy are reciprocal.

A storm of bullets struck the center of the ring. It looked empty, yet the bullets couldn't pass through. Instead, they were like beams of light shining against a mirror.

The next second—

The ring began to rotate slowly like a clock, sending ripples of golden light across its surface.

In that instant, every bullet aimed at Sean reversed course and flew back.

Winster: "???"

Attendant: "???"

The two men widened their eyes in disbelief, as if they'd seen a ghost. What kind of magic could reflect bullets?!

This was fucking impossible!

"Stop shooting!!" they wanted to shout.

But it was too late.

Bullets traveled far faster than a novice witch could react—and faster than these ordinary people could, too.

They didn't even have time to hit the ground. All they could do was watch as the dense barrage pierced Jenny's body in the middle of the room and tore her apart, raising clouds of blood. Then the bullets grew rapidly larger in their vision, until they died.