All Wiped Out

Until the moment he died, Winster never understood why Sean's spell could reflect bullets.

As a former mercenary, he wasn't afraid of death. In their line of work, it was only a matter of time.

If you wanted to kill someone, you had to be prepared to be killed yourself.

He didn't blame Sean. He was just unwilling to accept it.

As an accomplished Witch Hunter, he had killed more than a hundred mages. Winster had seen every kind of basic spell: fireballs, ice spikes, earth walls, gusts of wind, even soul strikes. He knew how to deal with them all. But the golden rings made of formulas that Sean had conjured were beyond his understanding.

If he'd known Sean's magic was so bizarre, he would never have let his men open fire.

—Not that he'd been the one to give the order in the first place. It was the caretaker from Holkodo.

That was why Winster couldn't accept it.

Unfortunately, there was no such thing as a do-over in this world, and he wouldn't get a second chance.

Faced with the armor-piercing bullets his companion had specifically made his men switch to, Winster had no time to react. He was riddled like a lump of coal, blood pouring from the holes in his body as if there were no end to it, staining him red from head to toe.

His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees. He stared at the supposedly frail writer standing not far away, his expression cold. Shock and resentment lingered in Winster's eyes until his consciousness began to fade. Only then did his head finally droop. His battered body toppled forward and hit the ground with a thud.

The only sound left was the "bzzz" of the phone in his pocket, which had been lucky enough to escape the bullets.

Elsewhere.

In an office.

A man sat at his desk, phone receiver in hand, his brows furrowed.

Ten minutes earlier, he'd received a call from his superior, ordering him to contact Winster immediately and have the Witch Hunters in the Black Berry Rainforest call off their operation.

The Spring of Enlightenment in the Black Berry Rainforest was the main supplier for their trading company, and a large share of their revenue came from it. He didn't understand why his superior wanted to stop the operation, but he followed orders and called Winster.

But he couldn't get through.

He called several times. At first there was no answer; then the phone went straight to voicemail. If he hadn't known Winster was on a mission in the Black Berry Rainforest, he would have thought the guy had gone drinking at some bar and gotten his phone stolen.

He had no idea what Winster was up to. He tried again, but the phone was still off, so he had no choice but to report back to his superior.

When his superior heard that Winster couldn't be reached, he called his own superior.

And so Miss Flame Crow, who had been waiting patiently for a reply, received a call.

"What do you mean, you can't reach him?"

"He's not answering, and now his phone's off."

"?"

This was bad.

A sudden sense of foreboding welled up in the girl's heart.

First ignoring calls, then switching off the phone—many thieves did that. It had also become a common trick among some Witch Hunters who refused to obey orders. They would later blame the whole thing on a thief.

She had no time to figure out which explanation was true. Either way, she could no longer stop the Witch Hunters' operation in the Black Berry Rainforest. That meant the prey who had drunk from the Spring of Enlightenment was doomed to a tragic end.

When the girl didn't respond, the man on the other end hesitantly asked, "Should I send a team over to check things out? If he's still alive, I'll find a way to get him out."

The girl was silent for a moment, then said, "It's too late."

Given Sean's temperament, he wasn't the kind of person who would surrender without a fight. And there was only one likely outcome if he resisted: he'd be shot on the spot. Guns were the best weapon against low-level mages. Experienced Witch Hunters wouldn't even let their targets get within thirty feet of them. No matter how fierce their prey was, they'd never get the chance to fight back.

Sean was as good as dead.

Or rather, he was probably already dead.

The girl closed her eyes, pushing away the complicated feelings in her heart. When she opened them again, her voice was cold once more. "Send your people over."

There was a distinct pause on the other end. "But you said it was too late."

"It's too late to save anyone. But..." A murderous glint flashed in the girl's eyes. "We can kill."

Refusing a call from the organization was a serious offense. If they chose to make an issue of it, they could impose severe punishment under the Witch Hunters' own rules. It was a good opportunity to cut off her enemies' support, and she wasn't about to let it pass.

It would also be a way to avenge Sean.

"Have your people get there as fast as possible. The bigger the show, the better. Make sure they look frantic, so those Witch Hunters understand they've caused a disaster by dragging their feet," the girl instructed. She wanted to do everything she could to make sure those Witch Hunters understood exactly why they were going to die.

"Understood," the man replied.

The girl hung up.

Sean's face appeared in her mind, and she found herself biting her lip.

She and Sean had only met twice. They were little more than strangers who had crossed paths by chance, with no deep bond between them. They weren't even ordinary friends. The last time Sean had asked her name, she hadn't told him. And yet, even with such a distant, casual connection, she still felt sad at the thought of his death.

It was one thing not to know someone. Once you did, you couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

She had never been able to turn a blind eye to tragedies happening around her.

There was no doubt about it: she wasn't a very good spectator.

So she chose to leap down from the stands and do everything in her power to put an end to this brutal farce.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Someone knocked on the hotel room door.

The girl composed herself. "Come in."

The visitor was the woman who had appeared beside the girl after Sean left the Void Arts Space. They had been partners for years, and the woman could tell at a glance that she was in a bad mood. It was easy enough to guess what had happened.

"Are we too late?"

"No," the girl replied. "Those Witch Hunters won't leave the Black Berry Rainforest that quickly."

If they couldn't get out before nightfall, they'd never get out at all.

The woman understood what the girl meant: Sean was dead. She sighed and comforted her. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

In this wretched world, countless mages were imprisoned and slaughtered. No one could protect them all.

It would have been best if they could save Sean, but there was no need to blame herself if they couldn't. The same thing happened every moment of every day, somewhere beyond their sight.

"I'm not blaming myself," the girl said, her tone firm. "I warned him. He wouldn't listen, so if he died, he brought it on himself."

The woman smiled without calling her out.

The girl didn't like that look, so she changed the subject. "Did you need something?"

"Nothing. I just came to remind you not to forget the Dawn Meeting tonight," the woman said.

"Don't worry," the girl replied. "He's not important enough for me to forget what matters."

"Come on. Let's get something to eat, then head back to the Void Arts Space."

The Dawn Meeting was being held in the Void Arts Space. It was still early, so there was no real need to hurry. But she didn't want to stay at the hotel and wait for news. Otherwise, she'd find herself wondering how brutally they'd killed that man who was somewhat to her taste.

Rather than waste time on an idiot who'd handed himself to the enemy, she might as well return to the Void Arts Space early and meditate.

At that moment, in the girl's eyes, Sean was already a dead man.

But she never imagined that this "dead man" would come back from the dead.

The Void Arts Space had rules similar to those of a memory anchor: a mage would reappear in the same place they had been when they returned to reality. So when she and the woman had finished their meal, taken a short rest, and entered the Void Arts Space again, the familiar street was still the first thing they saw.

And there was a familiar smiling face—

Sean, who should have been riddled with bullets, stood before her completely unharmed, smiling at her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Flame Crow. I've been waiting for you for a long time."

The girl: "???"

"Sean?!"

She widened her eyes in disbelief. "You're alive?!"

Sean tilted his head. "Did you want me to die?"

The woman beside the girl also parted her red lips in shock, briefly convinced she was seeing things.

How could a Newborn mage who had only just learned to meditate and gained magic power through the Spring of Enlightenment survive an entire team of Witch Hunters?

"How did you escape?"

Sean was about to make something up, but a man suddenly ran over and answered for him.

It was the same man who had spoken with the girl earlier.

After receiving the girl's order, he had immediately passed it along and prepared to lead a team to the Black Berry Rainforest himself.

This had to be handled quickly and cleanly. He didn't trust anyone else to do it.

But just as he'd gathered his men and was about to leave, news arrived from the Black Berry Rainforest. He immediately called the girl to tell her, but she didn't answer. Guessing that she had gone to the Void Arts Space, he came looking for her.

"We've found out why we couldn't reach him," he said.

Winster hadn't had his phone stolen, nor had he deliberately ignored the calls.

He simply couldn't answer them anymore.

The man glanced at Sean. Seeing that the girl didn't stop him, he drew a deep breath, steadied his shock, and spoke in a low, controlled voice. "Including the caretaker who joined at the last minute, there were twenty-seven people and forty-three Smell Crows... They're all dead."

The entire hunting party that had entered the Black Berry Rainforest had been wiped out. Not even one crow had survived.

The two women: "??!"