Hare of Misfortune

Rachel leaned against the inside of the elevator while rubbing her left arm, doing her best to breathe and release the whiplash she felt from Eostre’s vision; unfortunately, the state of her body was bad enough that even just standing here made her want to puke and put a stitch in her side—it grew worse whenever she was idle and thinking about it.

She glared at her quaking left hand, vision swaying for a second; she used the elevator’s corner to not tip over from vertigo, gritting her teeth as her thoughts lapsed momentarily. A blink and Roy was suddenly in the box, making her ears twitch as his muffled voice came to the foreground; she noticed the door was now sealed, though she hadn’t caught it happening.

”...Rachel—stupid question, can you hear me?”

What appeared to be a delayed energy wave from the goddess rushed through her, further sapping her already screaming muscles and fluctuating mind; each sensation jolting her brain or deteriorating her body was far worse after the vision. If she didn’t get Maria’s help, Rachel knew she’d be down for more than a week with how far she’d pushed herself, and she didn’t have time for that.

Roy scanned her shaking legs and tight expression, gauging the sudden change that came over her once away from prying eyes; he pressed the button for the ground level before anyone could put them in a queue.

”Obviously, something happened,” he said in somewhat proficient Korean, making her force a chuckle while fighting past the nausea that gripped her belly. She was glad this man was chosen to escort her; he had seemed to care and try to connect with both her and Scarlet—a sorely welcome experience after all the craziness. ”Either you had another visitation, or your body is finally starting to break down.”

”Both, I suppose,” she mumbled in the same language, closing her eyes and rubbing her flaming forehead; her white blood thankfully made it impossible to flush, but bruising had a slight discoloration, and there was a lot of it now that time passed. ”I didn’t want to make a scene... I don’t know who’s watching us, and the Scarlet Hand could have corrupted anyone. Hopefully, I play my cards right, and one of those issues is resolved.”

Roy worked around his jaw, frowning as she rubbed her legs, back, and neck, twisting to loosen up and prevent knots or cramping, despite the sensation of shredding her limbs. ”I’m guessing you have to keep going, or you’ll collapse... Sitting still with your mother must have been torture.”

”Well worth enduring,” she mumbled, holding back tears and trying to direct her mind to anything besides the pain. ”I can’t afford to let my body slow me down.”

Leaving the elevator as it opened, she saw many of the crowds dotting the first-floor hallways shift their attention. With it came conversations when they saw her light-glowing figure. Roy had a neutral expression again, hands in his pockets and slowing his pace to keep a distance from her, but not without whispering something to make her smile.

”Workin’ hella hard ’till they put you in the dirt, huh?”

”Hehe... That’s me, rookie of the year,” she said under her breath, thoughts using his words as fuel to bolster her resolve.

Yeah, hit the ground running; there’s no way I’m taking a back seat, and I’m not stopping until I’m at the top! I have a full hand and a full plan. If I can’t beat people like Scarlet off the go, I’ll beat them in fight and drive. I’ll work harder than my competition and maneuver into positions to run circles around these myths and legends... I won’t stop until I’m at the top... Because I want to have worth.

Cold resolution tempering the heat in her muscles, Rachel made her way through the halls until she came to the cafeteria, spotting the dozens of Mexican gangsters sleeping on the floor, in chairs, or against the walls; they’d made the area into their base of operations and, luckily, pulled all the blinds to dim the light in places to rest.

Great! My energy shouldn’t diminish too quickly where they are. Luck is on my side! she internally cheered while studying her target, having already heard plenty about her.

The 23-year-old woman was a natural night light with her twinkling aura, yet most of the men taking shelter in the cafeteria whispered about her wide hips, ample bust, and stunning looks—her attitude elicited some grumbles, though. There were a few broken noses that she refused to heal due to a few harassment incidents that had been swiftly handled by the gangster.

Of course, her clothes were the complete opposite: an all-black tank top, black pants, and expensive name-brand shoes; the 808 angel number plastered across the front of her top, a gold chain necklace, and red eyeliner said a lot about the woman with her lazy posture.

Maria’s silver eyes matched her hair, possibly even thicker than hers, drawn back and left free to dangle behind the chair she sat on to nearly touch the tile. Her ears were more elf-like than a horse, which was something many people had taken note of, and an illuminated white star symbol sat high on her brow and just below her hairline, from which her energy-like horn appeared when using her powers.

However, her appearance was the last thing on Rachel’s mind after hearing many of the English conversations she’d had with her rather large crew; she swapped languages reasonably often, and her blunt attitude did not make people happy.

Being a mythickin celestial unicorn, she could gain energy from the sun and moon, yet there seemed to be a catch that Rachel hadn’t managed to uncover in their discussions; they all appeared to have some kind of weakness or fault as myths and legends. Perhaps even more shocking from her appearance and attitude, she was a semi-practicing Catholic, attending church at least twice a month with her little brother.

Head shifting left and right to take in the full scope of the cafeteria, she saw Roy get in line to grab some food; due to the emergency, people were working behind the stoves in shifts until the crisis was resolved.

Rachel’s vision hazed again, yet she forced her fingernails into her palm to keep focused. Going right for the table the unicorn’s gang hovered around, she prepared herself for the encounter. Judging the woman’s size, she gauged she was roughly half a head shorter than herself—approximately 165 cm. She didn’t need long with the gangster since this was just the hook to draw the woman into her plan.

”Yo, Maria, what’s up?” she asked, smiling when her willpower grew weaker; she wanted to give up, collapse, and never move again—even her face was tingly. ”I’ve heard my name passed around a few times between you guys. What does ’Liebre Lunar’ mean, by the way—is it moon bunny—because you guys have been saying it a lot?”