(Rebecca's POV)
"Dizzy attacked when I was busy digging through Kitsuna's memories. Kitsuna woke up in the middle of it because she felt the bloodlust Dizzy was giving off. Kitsuna got mad because the Federation gave a genocide order on her kind, and here we are. You know I said I wanted Dizzy to be Kitsune's first kill, right? That was actually unneeded."
Stacy's voice was calm—too calm—as she strode toward the broken wall like a queen inspecting her garden, hands behind her back, her steps crunching over shattered stone.
I trailed after her, my heart still hammering from the chaos below. "Wait. Are you saying she's already been killed before?"
Stacy didn't even look at me, her gaze locked firmly on the courtyard where Kitsuna moved like a little red flame, her swords flashing.
"Mm." A small nod. "Plenty of times."
"Plenty—what?" I nearly tripped on a chunk of rubble. "But wasn't her old world against killing?"
"Yes. Very much so." Stacy gave a small, humorless laugh. "In that world, she'd be classed as a mass murderer. Lucky for her, no one ever figured it out. A dumb terrorist group took all the blame for her handiwork. Worked out quite nicely."
I blinked at her. "You're joking."
Her lips were curved, sharp, and amusing. "Nope."
I turned toward Lily, who'd been following silently, her expression flickering between confusion and worry.
Lily finally asked the question hanging in the air. "She's… killed more than one person?"
"Un," Stacy replied breezily. "She's killed more people than you, Lily."
The words hung like a bomb.
"What!?" Lily's face went pale, then red. "You aren't serious! I know I haven't been in a real war yet, but my kill count isn't low, Stacy!"
Before I could jump in, my eyes were drawn downward at just the wrong moment—Kitsuna's sword came down on one of the spies, the blade slicing clean through him. The man collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. She didn't even pause. No hesitation, no flinch, not even a second glance.
Instead, her body began to hum—dark mana pouring off her in slow, steady waves.
"She's gone berserk," I muttered, my throat tight. "We need to do something—"
"Don't worry." Stacy's voice cut me off, firm. "She's in full control."
"She's only thirteen," I shot back, incredulous. "Thirteen. How can you look at that and say she's in control?"
Stacy's eyes softened—just a fraction. A shadow of sadness passed over her face before she straightened again. "I can't tell you everything," she admitted. "Not yet. All you need to know is that she'll be fine. Just watch."
I wanted to argue. Gods, I wanted to. But the look on her face silenced me. It reminded me too much of my own mother when I told her I'd been accepted into the Black Ops. That mix of dread and pride. The way she smiled while knowing she might never see me again.
That was the exact look Stacy had now—directed at Kitsuna.
And it hit me then: Stacy wasn't just training Kitsuna. She was proud of her.
"...I understand," I said quietly.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile—then it vanished.
"Hey!?" she barked suddenly, whirling on me. "Why the hell are more than ten percent of our staff spies, Rebecca!?"
Her tone cracked like a whip.
I froze. "U-uhm… I… haven't had time in the past couple of years to do a proper cleanup?" I admitted this while scratching the back of my neck.
Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I can see that. I've gone soft on you, haven't I? You need to get off your ass and take care of your damn work instead of flirting with Lily all day."
Heat exploded across my face. "Wha—Stacy!"
Lily turned scarlet. "S-Stacy!"
Stacy just smirked, perfectly pleased with herself, before turning back to the chaos below.
(Kitsuna's POV)
Twenty figures rushed me, blades glinting in the sunlight, feet pounding against stone.
Finally. Something real.
Stacy's training was always built on worst-case scenarios—fight against groups, fight when outnumbered, fight until your body begs you to stop. But this… this was the first time it wasn't training. The first time, every person in front of me truly wanted me dead.
It was almost exciting.
When they closed within ten meters, Dizzy's shrill voice split the air from behind me.
"Don't attack her so blindly! She's stronger than she looks. Surround her and then attack!"
Her little soldiers obeyed instantly, fanning out like a net to pen me in.
I tilted my head, a smile tugging at my lips.
'They actually gave me the advantage.'
"You idiots!" Stacy's voice rang out from the broken wall. "You just gave her the advantage!"
I glanced at her, shocked. "Oi! You're supposed to be on my side!"
She chuckled, looking infuriatingly casual. "This was supposed to be a challenge, but instead, they chose to listen to that foolish maid." I believe in you, though!"
"Some support, that is!" I snapped back—but couldn't stop my grin.
Then I heard it: a low shuffle of earth, a wet sound of bodies moving where there shouldn't have been any. My head whipped toward the ground behind Dizzy.
An unsettling voice rose from the dirt.
"I can't agree more, Stacy Draig. This dumbass just had to choose today to make a ruckus."
The man who emerged was tall, pale-haired, and green-eyed. His ghillie suit blended with the soil as if he'd been part of it. One by one, more figures rose behind him—like corpses climbing out of shallow graves.
My blood ran cold.
'How the hell didn't I notice them?'
At least fifty. Fifty men. At this hour? That meant they'd planned to strike after nightfall. And now here they were, dragged early into the open.
"Commander, what are you doing here!?" Dizzy squealed.
The spies all froze like scared animals.
The man didn't spare her a glance. "I have a mission to destroy this mansion. You're compromising it."
In a blur, he unsheathed his sword. Dizzy didn't even scream. Her head simply slid from her neck, her body collapsing at his feet.
The courtyard went dead silent.
'This is bad. Really bad.'
I spun, searching for an escape route—but I was already surrounded.
"Well… fuck," I muttered.
The commander turned toward me, cool amusement in his eyes. "You don't panic, even though you're in the worst possible place."
"And you don't seem to care; you just killed one of your own," I shot back.
"The Federation doesn't accept failure."
"Right. So who am I fighting, then? You?" Please say yes.
"All of us." He spread his arms, his men lifting their weapons as one.
"Of course you are," I muttered. "Fuck my luck."
I reached for my chakrams—but before I could attack, a familiar voice cut in.
"Like hell I'd leave you."
Stacy appeared at my side, blades flashing into existence.
Relief hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I forced a laugh. "I was starting to think you ditched me."
She didn't smile. "I'd leave Dean before I'd leave you."
I froze. "...What?"
Of all the things she could have said, that was not on my list. She loved Dean more than anything. I'd heard the stories. Dean was her whole damn world.
And she'd just told me she'd abandon him before me.
"Are you okay in the head?" I asked flatly. "You'd leave him before me? Yeah, right."
Her eyes were serious. "Don't believe me? When we're done, I'll show you my memories. You'll understand why."
"Fi—"
Her shove cut me off. A sword hissed through the air where I'd just been standing.
"Talk later. Can you make me two katanas?" She barked.
I shaped them instantly from ice and hurled them into her waiting hands.
"Thanks." Her grip tightened, mana flaring, and she lunged at the commander.
Steel screamed as their blades clashed, the courtyard erupting into chaos.
The others surged at me.
I ducked under the first strike, swept a man's legs, and cut his throat in one clean motion. Blood sprayed across my cheek.
"Oh, come on," I snarled, "can I just use my chakrams!?"
"Haha! Like we'd let you!" One of them jeered.
I flung my katana straight into his chest. His laugh died in a wet gurgle.
That shut them up.
I rolled, fingers finally closing around my chakrams. The first to rush me got a blade through the skull before he could even finish his warning cry.
"Now we're ready to dance." My grin stretched wide, sharp, and unnatural.
The entire courtyard froze, a collective shiver running through them. Even Stacy and the commander halted for a heartbeat, their gazes snapping toward me.
"That girl…" the commander hissed. "She must die. Everyone, change of orders—kill the demi-fox at all costs. We cannot allow a carrier of a Deadly Sin skill to live!"
"A Sin?" I echoed, tilting my head.
Stacy's voice was low and grim. "I thought she was just going berserk. But this… Wrath. The Sin of Wrath."
Heat surged in my veins. My hair bled from black and red to pure crimson, my eyes glowing like embers. Smoke billowed from my skin, thick and black, wrapping around me like a cloak.
I could feel it. Wrath. Alive in me.
And gods, it felt good.