Around midnight, I felt a light tap on my arm. I opened my eyes to see a shadowy figure in full black assassin attire — cape, mask, and all. It was Akane.
She placed a finger on her lips in a silent "Shh" gesture and quietly slipped out of the room. I followed her across the hall into a dimly lit guest room. The mont the door closed, Akane turned to face .
"I’m sorry... for waking you up like this," she said softly, her voice weaker than usual.
Before I could reply, I noticed sothing was terribly wrong. Akane was standing unsteadily, her posture slightly hunched.
One hand was pressed tightly against her stomach, fingers trembling. Dark crimson blood was steadily dripping from between her fingers onto the wooden floor, forming a small puddle at her feet.
"Akane...?" I stepped closer, alard.
She tried to stand straight but failed. Her breathing was shallow and labored. Sweat glistened on the exposed skin around her eyes. The usually calm and composed assassin was clearly in pain, though she was desperately trying to hide it.
"I... have sothing to ask you," she whispered, her voice strained.
I noticed her legs were shaking slightly. More blood continued to drip — drip... drip... drip — steadily from the wound she was desperately covering.
Without warning, I reached over and turned on the light.
The sight made my stomach tighten. Fresh blood soaked the front of her black outfit. A clear bullet wound was visible through a tear in her clothing — a nasty hole in her lower abdon still oozing dark red blood. Her hand was completely covered in it. She was losing a dangerous amount of blood.
"You’re injured badly!" I exclaid, moving toward her.
Akane staggered back a step, wincing in pain. "Don’t worry... It’s just a minor injury. I’ll be fine..."
Her voice cracked midway. She leaned against the wall for support, her breathing growing heavier. Blood continued flowing down her fingers and onto the floor. Her face had gone noticeably pale beneath the mask.
I ignored her weak protests, stepped forward, and gently but firmly pulled her hand away from the wound. The bullet hole looked deep and ugly — blood imdiately welled up and trickled down her toned stomach.
Akane hissed in pain and grabbed my wrist with bloody fingers, her grip weaker than normal.
"Please... don’t waste your energy on ," she begged, her voice now trembling. "I’m fine... But my disciple... she protected and took multiple hits. Her condition is critical. She’s losing too much blood... Please, I’m begging you... save her."
She tried to bow deeply despite her injury, but her body gave out. She nearly collapsed forward.
I quickly caught Akane in my arms before she could collapse. Her body felt unusually light and frail for soone as deadly as her. Warm blood from her wound imdiately soaked through my yukata, sticking the fabric to my skin. Her breathing was ragged and shallow against my chest.
"Don’t say anything right now..." I said gently but firmly, holding her close. "Let treat you first."
Akane tried to protest, but I ignored her. I hugged her tightly against my body, lifted her up bridal-style, and carried her over to the bed. She was surprisingly light in my arms. I laid her down carefully on her back.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the front of her torn black assassin outfit and ripped it open forcefully, exposing her smooth, porcelain-white stomach. Her abdon had beautiful, subtle muscle definition — not bulky like a man’s, but elegantly toned and feminine. The sight of her bare skin under the dim light was incredibly arousing, even with the bleeding wound.
Akane gasped sharply as the cool air hit her exposed torso. She wasn’t panicking like a helpless girl, nor did she blush. Instead, her sharp eyes showed clear concern — not for herself, but for .
"Jack... don’t do this," she said urgently, her voice strained but steady. "I know you can’t use this ability infinitely. It will definitely harm you. Please... I beg you. Save your strength for my disciple. She needs it more than I do."
I looked straight into her eyes and replied calmly, "Who told you it will harm ? Nothing will happen to ."
I placed my palm directly over the bullet wound, just to the left of her navel. The injury looked ugly — a deep, ragged hole still oozing fresh blood. The mont I activated Healing Touch, a soft, warm white light spread from my hand across her stomach.
Akane’s body tensed. The bullet slowly pushed out from the wound with a wet sound and clattered onto the floor.
The torn flesh began knitting together rapidly under the glowing light. Within monts, the bleeding stopped completely, and the wound closed, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin behind.
Akane let out a long breath of relief, her tense muscles finally relaxing.
I imdiately pretended to feel the side effects. I swayed slightly, wiped sweat from my forehead, and let my breathing beco heavier, making beads of sweat roll down my face.
Akane’s eyes widened with worry. She sat up quickly despite her own condition and pulled into a tight hug, pressing my head firmly against her soft, full breasts.
"Are you okay...?" she asked anxiously, her voice full of guilt. "I told you not to use it... You idiot..."
Her large, warm tits cushioned my face as she held protectively. I could feel her heartbeat racing against my cheek.
I pretended to struggle for a mont, then slowly pushed myself up, acting strong. I wiped the sweat from my brow and stood straighter.
"Then what did you expect to do?" I said with genuine-sounding emotion. "Just sit there and watch you bleeding out in front of ? If anything happened to you... I would never be able to forgive myself."
Akane stared at silently, her sharp assassin eyes softening for the first ti.
I took a deep breath and asked, "Where is your disciple? Take to her right now."
Akane still looked hesitant. "Are you really okay? You look pale..."
My tone suddenly turned angry and commanding. "I said I’m fine! Stop wasting ti and take to her. Every second counts."
Akane paused for a mont, then nodded reluctantly. She stood up, still a little unsteady, and adjusted her torn clothes to cover herself.
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