"So that means I can save her."
———
Who?
———
Moonlight reflected off Krisna's face, catching the faint smile he wore when Lis questioned him.
———
Why… are you smiling?
———
Krisna restored the electricity flow to normal—he stood, looking at Lis, who was brimming with questions.
"Why? Am I not allowed to smile?" he said, the faint curve still lingering on his lips.
———
…Just curious.
———
Carrying a radio in his hand, Krisna headed back to the place he used to sleep.
It couldn't be called a house, but it was enough—for now.
Just a few steps away, Krisna spotted a white-haired girl examining the area around his shelter.
A girl whose long, moonlit-white hair shimmered softly.
Her eyelashes were long and white, her skin smooth like glass—as if it could shatter at a touch.
"Kaguya," was the name that floated into his mind the moment he saw her.
She was fairly tall—he guessed around 165 cm.
Her irises were ocean blue.
A square-shaped halo of blue and white hovered above her.
A short-barreled shotgun—likely a Saiga-12—hung in her hands.
Why did Krisna know that?
Because he liked guns. Studied them.
A fun hobby, if a slightly dangerous one.
The girl scanned the surroundings, seemingly searching for Krisna.
Meanwhile, Krisna hid behind a pile of scrap, quietly observing.
He thought of stepping out—approaching the girl flashed through his mind.
Just as he started to rise—
———
You shouldn't.
———
Lis appeared right beside him.
Startled, Krisna lowered himself again. "Why not?"
———
Look. She's armed.
She could be a hired killer.
———
With a crooked grin, Krisna whispered, "And who would want to kill me?"
But then he remembered—the helmeted girl whose mask he had opened.
His smile slowly faded.
If that was true, he could actually die today.
And he had no plans to die—at least not yet.
So Krisna stayed quiet, watching the girl from the shadows.
Two hours passed. The night wind kept him company.
His eyelids grew heavier.
At last, the girl gave up and left the area.
Leaving behind Krisna's messy little camp.
Even after she was gone, Krisna waited another thirty minutes—just in case she returned.
Sleep claimed him mid-watch, his head resting against a broken refrigerator.
Dawn broke; gentle light touched the world.
Krisna was still fast asleep until something dropped onto his head—jerking him awake.
He looked upward. Nothing.
"Probably the wind," he muttered.
He rose, body stiff.
Yet oddly energized.
But when he remembered the girl—panic gnawed at his thoughts.
He quickly packed his things, ready to flee.
———
Why not find out?
———
Krisna tilted his head. "Find out what?"
———
Her motive.
Nobody wants to kill a broke guy like you.
———
His fist tightened. "Hey, I'm being serious."
A sigh. "So… how?"
———
I can connect to the internet.
———
"W–what?" His fists clenched again, teeth grinding.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier!?"
He tried punching Lis—pointlessly.
———
You never asked.
———
Scratching his head, he muttered, "Alright, open it."
A second screen appeared.
He glanced at Lis. "I almost forgot about the tasks. Show me."
———
Alright, forgetful.
———
A third screen opened.
tasks—mundane and uninteresting—filled it.
He ignored them and focused on the second screen, which looked like a search engine.
He typed "bounty."
Wanted posters, lists of targets, and capture notices filled the display.
Krisna sighed in relief…
until his eyes landed on his own name on one of the sites.
Reward: 25,000 Kivotos Credits.
His jaw dropped.
"What—what the hell…?"
His hands trembled.
"S–so what do I do…?"
———
Two choices.
———
His eyes lit up. "Two? What are they?"
———
Fight or run.
Simple.
———
He exhaled dramatically—as if releasing his final breath.
———
Hey, don't die!
Who else would I insult…?
———
A tear slid down his dusty cheek.
———
At least with this,
you can survive.
———
A screen appeared again.
This one read: "Crafting Anything."
Krisna's eyes drifted to it, a small smile blooming.
"I can make anything?"
———
Yes, as long as you have materials.
———
He snapped his fingers.
"Then let the survival mission begin!"
He wandered around searching for materials, eventually planning a bulletproof shield.
And of course, he took several tasks to keep his "con" from dropping:
———
Push-up: 200×
Sit-up: 150×
Grade C – Reward: 400 con
Trap-making: 1×
Grade D – Reward: 200 con
———
While collecting materials for the shield, Krisna trained BJJ under the midday sun.
He also checked on his seedlings—no progress yet.
During breaks, Krisna browsed the digital world through Lis, trying to uncover whoever placed the bounty on him.
He stumbled across a mercenary website—stared at it for a while—and moved on.
Becoming a mercenary was on his list of future plans, but not today.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The sun eventually dipped, giving way to the moon and stars.
But only for a moment.
Dark clouds swept over, winds howled, and the cold sharpened.
Thunder rolled in the distance.
Inside the cabin—if it could be called that—Krisna remained awake.
He worked on his bulletproof shield, protecting himself for the danger he knew was coming.
He was also dismantling a shovel to turn it into something else.
Under Lis's glowing screen—his makeshift lantern—Krisna prayed the girl wouldn't show up yet.
He wasn't mentally or physically ready.
The shield was half-finished when he picked up a new skill: "Be Careful."
Day three slipped by—fast, like a waterfall of time.
Sleep finally took him.
Wind pried open gaps in his tarp, letting cold droplets seep in.
He curled up against the chill.
Day 4
The sun rose again, watching over Krisna's routine.
Ignoring the biting morning wind, he resumed his BJJ drills.
Fog-like breath spilled from his lips as he punched a salvaged pillow he used as a sandbag.
"Hopefully no fleas," he muttered.
Lis occasionally gave pointers—her chatter softening the loneliness he carried from his previous world.
Krisna finished his assigned tasks.
His trap was set, complete with a nasty surprise.
Thanks to all the tasks, his muscles slowly grew.
By noon, shirtless because his clothes were drying, Krisna unleashed everything on the makeshift sandbag.
On the final strike, the pillow exploded.
He was now stronger than a grown man.
It felt strange—how fast he was improving.
But he brushed it aside.
Priorities first.
Time passed.
The sky blazed orange.
Clouds drifted lazily.
Pigeons soared freely.
Krisna sat atop the junk heap, watching the sunset glow and his little cabin below.
Four days… just like that.
Maybe… he'd die tonight. Or tomorrow.
His thoughts sank deep, pulling his imagination with them.
In his mind, he stood tall—facing the white-haired girl.
He clenched his fist, staring up at an imaginary sky, then charged her.
Fifty scenarios poured into his mind—deaths, narrow survivals, injuries…
He filtered them one by one until only the "best" scenario remained.
When he opened his eyes, night had fallen.
The breeze brushed him gently.
His preparations were complete.
His resolve hardened.
His instincts whispered:
She will come tonight.
Wearing a black mask marked with a white star at the center, a 30×35 cm shield in his right hand, and a makeshift spear in his left—
Krisna was ready.
Cold didn't matter anymore.
He sat beneath a street lamp, its light serving as his stage.
The night was silent…
A dark silhouette stepped out of the shadows.
White hair.
Blue eyes.
Krisna froze, entranced.
Her expression was empty—
yet her eyes looked… reluctant.
Krisna rose from where he sat.
He stood, spear shaking in his hand.
A thin smile bloomed on his face—
not from joy,
but to shatter the fear threatening to consume him.
Under the moon's witness,
Krisna faced the girl.
Will he survive?
Let's hope so.