Suzy frowned, her fingers tightening around the empty bottle in her hand.
The container still carried the faint chill of the spiritual spring water—a stark, jarring contrast to the scorching fever radiating off Mark’s body.
She looked down at the rim, then back at his flushed, feverish face, her heart skipping a beat.
Could there... actually be something wrong with the spiritual water?
[There is nothing wrong with it.]
The system’s answer offered a small wave of relief, but Suzy still wanted to be sure.
She retrieved a small, clear bottle from her spatial realm containing water from the exact same batch she’d fed to Mark. Uncapping it, she took a tiny sip.
It was the same familiar, crisp sweetness. As it slid down her throat, a gentle warmth spread evenly through her body.
There was nothing wrong with it. The spring water was perfectly fine.
She set the bottle down and looked back at Mark. His face was growing redder by the second, his breathing shallow and rapid, his lips cracked and peeling. The strain and pain etched between his brows were undeniable.
The scene brought a sudden flash of recognition.
She had seen this before...
Right! Derek!
Mark’s condition was practically identical to what Derek went through when he was infected by the gray snow—relentless high fever, clouded consciousness, deep coma, and total unresponsiveness to standard treatments.
She remembered it vividly: back then, the spiritual water hadn’t worked on Derek, either.
"Could Mark have been infected by the gray snow too?" she mused out loud.
[What gray snow? There hasn’t been any around here.]
The system’s dry retort cut her off. True enough—it hadn’t been snowing anywhere near here, let alone gray snow.
"Is there something similar to it, then? Could it be the rain?" she asked.
[Unknown.]
"Fine."
Dropping the topic, Suzy reached out to feel his forehead again. Still scalding. Still burning hot. If anything, the agony on his face was deepening.
"What do I do now...?"
She couldn’t help but sigh. Having gone through the trouble of rescuing him and feeding him multiple doses of spiritual water, letting him die now would be a total waste—and an infuriating waste of her effort.
"System, is there any other way?"
[Do you want to save him?]
"I’ve already come this far; I can’t just throw in the towel now."
Out of respect for his sister, if there was a way, she was willing to give it her best shot—provided the cost wasn’t unreasonable. As long as it didn’t compromise her own well-being, she’d help where she could.
[Do you have any leftover healing potion from before? That might work.]
"Half a bottle left," she replied.
Last time, it was that potion that cured Derek, though the system had explicitly stated it only worked on afflictions caused by the gray snow.
"Will it actually work?" she muttered, taking out the remaining half-bottle anyway.
[I can’t guarantee it, but it’s worth a shot.]
"Guess I’ll try it, then."
There were no other options left anyway. To her, the potion wasn’t extraordinarily precious since it sat around gathering dust most of the time. If using it now could save his life, saving a life took priority.
Holding the half-empty vial, Suzy stood by the bed for a moment, making a final check.
Two seconds later, she unhesitatingly popped the cap, poured a portion into a small cup, and propped up the back of Mark’s neck, bringing the cup to his lips.
This time, as if tasting something good, he actively cooperated and swallowed the liquid down.
Before long, the cup was empty.
Suzy didn’t dwell on the lost potion. Stashing the empty vial back into her spatial realm, she stayed by the bedside and sat quietly for a moment.
The potion took effect much faster than she anticipated. Bit by bit, the painful strain on Mark’s face began to fade away.
. . .
Hot.
A searing, infernal heat tore through him.
Mark was long accustomed to this familiar agonizing pain, but this time, it was harsher and far more suffocating than ever before—as if he were trapped in a blazing inferno, swallowed by giant waves, unable to draw breath.
He could even smell the stench of scorched flesh.
It wasn’t the first time he’d caught that scent. By all rights, he should have been numb to it by now. Yet every single time it hit his nostrils, it triggered a deep-seated wave of nausea and disgust—an aversion lodged deep within his soul.
It was a punishment.
The punishment had begun.
Mark had mentally prepared himself for it. Each time it started, it would drag on for hours, sometimes lasting up to a full day. For twenty-four agonizing hours, he would endure this relentless torture until he completed the assigned task.
Heh.
Drifting in the haze, he emptied his mind.
Before long, however, he sensed something off.
The fiery, scorching sensation was slowly receding.
His consciousness remained clouded, his eyelids heavy as lead, but he could feel that searing heat—the kind that usually threatened to burn his very soul to ash—being wrapped in a soothing, cool layer.
The oppressive heat was diluting, bit by bit.
The intense burning slowly faded away. In a mere instant, it melted into soft, warm water, enveloping him and nourishing both his body and mind.
A moment of pure bewilderment washed over him.
What’s going on?
The punishment...?
The punishment had never ended this quickly before. What on earth had happened?
As consciousness returned to his body, Mark struggled to open his eyes.
The light inside was dim, with only a soft, gentle nightlight glowing near the rear of the vehicle. It took him several seconds to confirm he was in a strange, yet relatively comfortable, environment.
The scent of dry fabric lingered around him, mixed with an extremely subtle, crisp fragrance. He couldn’t quite identify it, though it felt faintly familiar.
Yet his prior memories felt completely erased; he couldn’t quite bring them back.
He propped himself up and sat up, sweeping his eyes over his surroundings.
Slanted slightly ahead of him, a slender figure caught his eye.
She looked familiar. Mark stared at the spot, frozen for a long moment.
It’s her...
In an instant, he remembered Suzy.
She was the woman his sister had brought home back then. He hadn’t expected to run into her again here, much less be saved by her.
...It was almost too coincidental.
Gradually, fragments of his earlier memories resurfaced in his mind.
Her name... seemed to be Suzy.
Suzy.
Suzy.
He silently repeated the name multiple times in his heart, his eyes darkening in a split second.
Supporting his weight, he stood up from the bed and dragged his weak, unsteady feet toward Suzy.
At that moment, Suzy was leaning back against the couch with her eyes closed and lips pale, sleeping uneasily.
Mark stared at her intently with pitch-black eyes, the warmth fading from his gaze degree by degree.
Slowly, he extended his pale, cold fingers, positioning them to wrap right around her slender neck.
Click...
Just then, a faint noise echoed from the door.
It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was clear enough for both of them to hear.
Driven by the sound, the sleeping Suzy snapped her eyes open.
"You—"
"Don’t speak!"
Mark pressed a finger to his lips, making a soft "shh" gesture at her.
Suzy immediately fell silent and turned her head toward the door.
For a brief second, her mind was still foggy. She never expected to open her eyes and see Mark standing right there, so unnervingly close to her.
She felt a faint wave of strangeness, but the current situation left her no time to overthink it.
"There’s someone outside," Mark whispered, keeping his voice extremely low.
Suzy nodded. Reaching back, she pulled out a tablet stored inside the drawer.
Under Mark’s watchful gaze, she tapped around on the screen.
Soon, surveillance feeds popped up.
Everything around the RV was clearly illuminated on the display: two men had approached the side of her vehicle.
The noise from a moment ago was precisely their doing.