The figure of the woman still stood there—or rather, hovered in the air, like a puppet held by invisible strings. Her head remaiilted to one side, as if us with an unnatural curiosity.

  I felt the grip of Azami—the female version of myself—tighten around my wrist.

  “Azami,” I whispered, trying to stay calm. “Who… is she?”

  Azami—the female version of myself—didn’t answer immediately. Her glowing golden eyes sed the figure in front of us, and then her expression ged.

  I saw it. Just for a moment.

  Disgust.

  “A Puppet,” she said, her voice cold and sharp. “A Hughes-level Witch who’s lost her sanity.”

  I swallowed hard. “So she’s…”

  “A lunatic,” Azami cut in, her eyes still locked on the figure. “A sociopath with supernatural powers. She kills not for any particur reason, not for money or revenge. She just does it because…”

  The woman suddenly ughed.

  It wasn’t a normal ugh.

  It was hoarse, broken, like the sound of rusted metal scraping against gss. Like someone who had fotten how to ugh and was trying to mimic it in the worst possible way.

  Azami—the female version of myself—yanked me back quickly.

  “Keep your distance,” she said firmly. “She could attack at any moment.”

  I took a few steps back, holding my breath as I watched the woman begin to move.

  Not like a normal human.*m

  Her feet didn’t touch the ground. Her body floated slightly, then shifted pces without any transitional movement. One moment she was there, the she was closer.

  I felt the hairs on the bay neck stand up.

  “What is she doing?” I whispered.

  Azami—the female version of myself—gritted her teeth. “She’s maniputing spa a small scale. At least, the reality of spa the Real World on a small scale.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t have time to ask further.

  Because in an instant—

  She disappeared.

  My heart almost stopped.

  I reflexively turo Azami—the female version of myself—but before I could speak, something moved behind me.

  I only had a split sed to reabsp;

  Azami—the female version of myself—immediately pulled a knife from her jacket and swung it behind me.

  SRRAKK!

  A sharp screech filled the air.

  I turned and saw the woman jerk backward, bck blood dripping from her injured arm. Azami had mao wound her, but…

  She didn’t seem to be in pain.

  Instead—

  She ughed again.

  The bck blood flowed from her wound, dripping to the ground with a soft, almost inaudible sound. But the woman didn’t look hurt at all.

  Instead, her expression showed something far more terrifying.

  Excitement.

  “Ahh… pain…” she said, her voice hoarse. “It’s been so long… since I’ve felt it…”

  I wao vomit.

  She wasn’t just unafraid of death.

  She e.

  Azami—the female version of myself—stood in front of me, the kill tightly gripped in her hand. She didn’t look surprised, but I could see her shoulders tense slightly.

  I knew why.

  Witches might have supernatural powers, but they die like ordinary humans.

  If they suffer a fatal wound in the Real World, they will still die like anyone else. That’s why Witches are harder to defeat in the Omnion World, where they manipute reality to a certaient.

  But in this real world, they are still vulnerable.

  And that meant—

  “We kill her,” I whispered.

  Azami—the female version of myself—nodded, but her eyes remained locked on the ibsp;

  “The problem is,” she said, “ we do it before she kills us first?”

  Before I could ahe woman moved again.

  Faster.

  More violently.

  And this time, she attacked directly toward us.