Knock! Knock!
"???"
A woman is cooking in her kitchen when she hears a knock at the front door. She stops what she's doing and walks over to see who it is.
Creak...
She opens the door slowly. As sunlight pours in, her vision blurs for a moment before adjusting. Standing in front of her is a man dressed in a black suit with a black hood covering his head. He doesn't seem threatening, but something about his appearance makes her uneasy.
"Can I help you?" she asks, a little hesitant.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," the man says calmly. "You can call me Shuku. I'm here to ask about a man named Sinnard Reynard. Could you share any information about him? You don't have to, if you're not comfortable."
"Ah…" she says, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I see. You're a manhunter, aren't you?"
Shuku stays quiet, unsure if he should confirm it. But the woman quickly reassures him.
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I don't want any more attention in the coming weeks. And... you know who I am, don't you?"
"…Yes," he replies, giving her a brief look to confirm her identity. She's a middle-aged woman with brown lob-cut hair, living at this exact address. Then he continues. "You're Miss Arila Medea. Mister Reynard has been charged with three counts of rape. You are one of his victims."
Her eyes twitch as she hears the painful truth, her hand still holding the door.
"If you don't want to speak, I'll leave. I understand if you can't talk about it—"
"No. I'll talk," she says quickly, taking a breath to calm herself. "I'll talk. Come in. We'll speak inside." She nods, motioning for him to enter.
"If you don't mind," he replies, stepping inside the wooden house with a hint of shyness.
Then, Arila quietly closes the door behind them.
...
...
"Reynard and I have known each other longer than either of us can even remember. Our parents were close, so we grew up together."
Arila begins speaking softly as she and Shuku sit across from each other at the dining table. Two cups of cold tea rest untouched between them. Shuku stays quiet, listening carefully.
"With the things he's done, you might think he's always been a criminal. Cold. Dangerous. But I've known him since we were kids, and he wasn't like that at all. When we were young, he used to bring me flowers whenever we hung out. If someone was in trouble, he'd be the first to help. He was the kindest boy I knew back then..."
Her voice starts to shrink, fading into something heavier. Shuku leans in slightly, sensing the turn in her story.
"But then... as he got older, things at home went bad. Really bad. His parents became monsters. His father drank constantly and beat him. His mother was unfaithful, sleeping with other men. One day, his father found out, and it turned violent. So violent that his mother nearly died. The neighbors had to step in to stop it."
She pauses, swallowing hard.
"After that, their family just... fell apart. His mother left him behind and disappeared. He stayed with his father, who kept beating him, forcing him to go out and earn money just so he could keep drinking."
Shuku stays silent, his expression tense.
"And every time things got too much for him, every time he felt alone or scared, he came to my house to get away. I always let him in. He was my best friend. I cared about him. I trusted him. I even let him sleep in my bed when we were teenagers, especially after he had nightmares. It became normal... every time he ran away, I was there."
She grips her cup, her voice beginning to shake.
"Until that night... when he started touching me. I didn't understand at first. I thought he was cold, or still stuck in a nightmare. So I let him... I was so naive. I didn't realize something was wrong until his hands went to my... my..."
Shuku nods slightly, not saying anything, trying to be respectful.
"My woman parts," she says, forcing the words out. "Then he started taking off my clothes."
Her fingers tighten around the cup.
"That night felt like a nightmare. I remember lying there, frozen in fear. I saw blood on the bed when he was done. I looked at him. His face was... confused, twisted, like he didn't know what he just did. And when he saw me shaking, staring at him, he panicked. He ran out of the house and never came back."
"So you... were the first victim. I thought you were the second."
"Yeah... I was the second to report."
Shuku frowns, confused.
"You will understand soon. Like I said earlier, after that night, we never saw each other again. My parents found out the next day, and they yelled at me for letting it happen. I got so depressed and scared I couldn't even go outside. And even if I wanted to, my parents wouldn't let me.
They thought the whole neighborhood would hear about it and people would start calling me a slut the moment they saw me. After all, who lets a teenage boy sleep in their bed, especially if you're a girl?
For the first time in my life, I didn't leave the house for a whole month. Luckily, no one else knew what happened except me, and my parents were careful with their words. If anyone asked, they just told the neighbors I was sick with something dangerous and couldn't go out."
"... I'm sorry to hear that," Shuku says quietly.
"Don't worry about it. I don't want to keep this to myself anymore," she says, wrapping her arms around her chest.
"... About Reynard?" Shuku asks, gently steering the conversation back to the reason he's there.
"Yeah. Reynard... I didn't see him anymore after that day. The whole time I stayed in my house, there was no sign of him coming back. Not even after I finally went outside again. I even tried to find him, to clear things up once and for all, but I couldn't.
Then, a few years later, maybe six or seven, I don't remember exactly. I was shopping on the other side of town, a place I rarely go to. Suddenly, I saw him. I saw Reynard inside a sword dojo, teaching teenagers how to use swords.
I was shocked. Not scared. Just surprised to see him after all those years. What caught me off guard the most was how much he had changed. He was taller, muscular, had a beard. He looked confident. He was smiling.
Even though he looked so different, I still recognized him. I could never forget his face, not after seeing it every day throughout my childhood.
Before I even realized it, I was just standing there, staring at him through the glass. Curious. Wondering what happened to him, where he'd been all these years. I probably would have kept standing there, hesitating to go in, if he hadn't seen me too.
Reynard was in the middle of teaching a student how to parry. Then he looked up and saw me standing outside the glass.
Our eyes met. After all those years, everything slowed down. We just stared at each other in silence, both wondering where the other had been.
Only when I finally moved, deciding not to hesitate anymore and stepping toward the door, did the silence break. Reynard dismissed his class of five students right away and stayed where he was, waiting for me to walk in."
As I approach and stand right in front of him, he stays quiet. He lowers his head like he's trying to avoid my eyes.
"... Arila... nice to meet you. It's been a while, hasn't it?" he says, but I don't answer. I want to see what kind of excuse or apology he'll come up with. If he even feels guilty.
"I... I... as you can see, I'm a grown man now. I'm working as a sword tutor for these kids," he continues, but I stay silent.
"I... I never thought I would meet you again... after all I've done—"
"Where have you been?"
Reynard looks confused.
"All these years, without a word, without an apology, without any trace. And you thought you could just disappear? Even from your own father? After everything you've done?"
He says nothing. We then both sit down on the wooden floor.
"... I..."
"I completely understand. What happened wasn't your fault. It was mine for letting that situation happen. I was too naive. I let a teenage boy the same age as me sleep in my bed without knowing anything about sex."
He stays silent.
"You know how painful that night was? What you did to me was like a nightmare that never goes away. The physical pain disappeared the next day, but the nightmares kept me locked inside my house for a whole month. During that time, what I wanted most was for you to come back with an apology. Then, I could finally cut all ties with you, forever."
He continued to stay silent.
"You wouldn't say anything, would you?"
"I'm sorry. For everything I did to you."
He paused for a moment.
"I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for running away. And I'm sorry for disappearing for almost seven years. I couldn't face what happened that night. I was lonely, cold, depressed, abandoned by everyone I called family. You were the only one who didn't make me feel lost or alone. I always liked you as a friend. But that night, when we slept together, I suddenly felt something strange bursting inside me, like everything was burning and hot, and I couldn't stop it.
My whole day, that whole week after I ran away, my entire life felt like living hell. But that moment, sleeping next to you, every time I touched you, it felt like heaven. I couldn't control myself. I'm sorry."
I listen, curious and shocked. Mostly because I didn't understand how he felt or what he was thinking that night. His sincere apology and guilty expression somehow make me lose my anger.
Before I walked in, I expected him to make half-assed excuses, to try and hide behind some coping mechanism. I thought I could finally throw all my anger at him and cut ties with him completely. But after listening to all that, I couldn't get myself angry anymore.
Instead, I was the one who felt embarrassed, not him. Embarrassed for trying to interrogate him more, for trying to torture his soul over something that happened so long ago. Something neither of us could have changed. Something he had already apologized for.
So I changed the conversation and asked him where he had been all this time.
Shuku kept listening with quiet curiosity.
"So it turns out that after he ran away from me that night, Reynard never went back home where his father still lived. Instead, he wandered the streets, surviving day by day through pickpocketing, stealing, fighting. He committed crimes, but his appearance was too poor, and the money he stole was too little, so no one bothered to report it to the Guild. He was basically invisible, safe for a while.
Then one day, he stole from some gang members, ferocious ones. He had targeted them a few times before, so they recognized him. But this time, they weren't going to let him go. They pulled out knives and chased him into the woods. According to him, they even said they'd kill him and sell his organs. He was terrified for his life that day.
He ran as fast as he could, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't outrun them. They chased him deeper into the forest, a place he didn't know. He tripped, fell, and they caught him. Pinned him down.
One of them slashed his face. That's where the scar came from, the one I saw when I met him again. Then they raised their knives, ready to kill him.
But then someone appeared."
"..." Shuku listened with intensity, his posture sharpening as the story took a turn he didn't expect.
"A man in a grey wolf mask. Tall. Silent. Terrifying. He had three metal claws on each hand, like fangs. One of them was dripping with blood. The gang froze. Then they ran like scared dogs."
Reynard thought he was next. But the masked man just crouched beside him and said, 'You want to stop being hunted? Then become the one who hunts.'
Then he walked away. Reynard didn't understand what had just happened, but something in him snapped. He decided to follow the masked man."
Arila paused, took a sip of her tea, then looked at Shuku.
"Then, a few years later, he officially joined the gang of that man. He went through all kinds of insane, dangerous trials, and became a member of... The Fang Gang. And that masked man turned out to be the Greyhound himself."
Shuku's eyes narrowed. "... The Greyhound? The Fang Gang?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"..." His face twisted with growing confusion.
"... You don't know him?"
He shook his head.
"I thought every manhunter knew him. Even regular people do. The Greyhound is top 2 in the manhunter rankings."
Shuku's ears perked up at the word "ranking."
"He and his Fang Gang are one of the most feared groups in the entire country. They've killed thousands of people, no matter who they are. Criminals, civilians, soldiers... no difference to them. They're ruthless. And Greyhound... he's their leader."
"Ok..."
"So Reynard became one of them after he followed Greyhound. He trained with them. Fought alongside them. That's why he had so many scars when I saw him."
Shuku nodded, thinking.
"...But he never told me why he was demoted to a sword trainer, especially when he has the skills and the appearance," she added, her tone softening. "He just smiled when I asked. And changed the subject."
"Wait. Hold up. I think you're getting off topic. I'm not here to ask about your history or what you think of him. I'm here to ask you where he could be hiding right now."
After a while of listening, Shuku finally had the courage to speak up and break the awkward mood of the wrong direction in their conversation. In response, Arila looked down at her cup, seeming to wonder something, then looked back at him.
"I'm sorry. I understand that Reynard is your childhood friend, that he's someone you care about even if he hurt you. But I'm a manhunter. And the Guild has made it clear that his crimes of rape and murder will not go unpunished. I'm here to fulfill that duty.
I'm sorry that I have to kill Reynard. But I hope that all your suffering will end once he's gone. After that, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be there to listen if you want. But right now, I need you to tell me.
Where is Reynard?"
"..." Arila stared at him with a blank, cold face as he finished, then looked down at his cup.
"You drank the whole cup of tea quite fast."
Shuku raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, it was quite tasty, I've gotta say. But that's not the point—please don't avoid the question anymo—"
He stopped. His eyes caught something. A glint. A detail he should've noticed earlier.
"Your finger... were you married?"
Arila followed his gaze, then looked down at her hand. There, on her ring finger, a gold ring shimmered softly in the light.
"Oh... this?" She twisted the ring with her thumb.
"You finally noticed, huh." Her voice was flat. "Yeah. I was married."
"So where was your husban—"
"Huh?!"
Suddenly, a wave of nausea slammed into Shuku like a crashing tide. His vision blurred, and the room began to spin. He clutched the edge of the table, trying to steady himself.
"What... is... going... on?" His words slurred. "What did you... do to me?"
Arila's expression didn't change. Calm. Controlled. Cold.
"We divorced," she said softly. "Right after he killed somebody and got listed on the Guild's hunted list. But I guess they didn't tell you that detail."
Shuku's breathing grew erratic. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled under him. He collapsed back into the chair, hands trembling.
"You..." he growled, blinking hard, trying to stay conscious. "What did you put... in the tea?"
"I just added some sugar." She gave a faint smile. "And a bit of sleeping pill. The same kind I used on the two manhunters who came before you."
Shuku's pupils shrank. 'Why didn't I notice that earlier?! The ring... the way she avoided answers... her calmness... why didn't I notice!'
Shuku continued to struggle to stay awake.
"I must—!"
He tried to rise again, but his body no longer responded. Then, darkness filled his entire vision. He slumped forward, the edge of his face pressing against the wooden table, breath slow and shallow.
"...I'm sorry," Arila whispered as she looked down at the sleeping man, a deep sorrow flickering in her eyes. "But I have to protect him. I love him. Even after everything he did. And I hope... he'll have some mercy for you."