After classes, we stepped out onto the street bathed in cold sunlight. Arkgrim looked as if he was about to storm a fortress, not make acquaintances. He adjusted his backpack, puffed out his chest, and nodded resolutely.

  "Well, go ahead, Arkgrim," I egged him on. "The clock is ticking."

  We had been walking down the main street for half an hour. Dozens of girls walked past—in flocks, alone, in school uniforms, and in bright jackets. Arkgrim followed each one with a piercing gaze, but as soon as any of them accidentally looked in his direction, he immediately turned away and began studying vacuum cleaner displays with an extremely serious look.

  "Right, this won't do," he muttered under his breath. "That one has a crooked nose. This one's gait is kind of... weird. And that one is way too tall, I'll only reach her waist."

  I stopped and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "Alright, Arkgrim, slow down. You said it yourself: the key to success is a large sample size. And in thirty minutes, not only have we not met anyone, we haven't even said 'hello' to a single person."

  "Is it my fault that no one fits my status?" he snapped, although I saw the tips of his ears turn treacherously red.

  "Fits your status? Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're fourteen, you look like... well, like a fourteen-year-old kid."

  "I look fine!" Arkgrim adjusted his bangs. "An eight out of ten, minimum."

  "Nope," I cut him off, holding back a laugh. "A six out of ten, maximum. And that's only if you keep quiet."

  "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!" he almost jumped in place. "A six?! Don't belittle me, Leon, it makes me physically ill! My pulse went up, see?"

  He shook his bracelet in front of my nose, which indeed had begun to blink red suspiciously. But a second later, Arkgrim froze again and straightened up sharply.

  "Oh, I know what the problem is!" he proclaimed. "It's the terrain. The fauna here is wrong. We need to choose our prey in a different environment. Let's go to the mall!"

  Life was boiling in the mall. Crowds of people, the smells of the food court, and loud music. We were already making our third lap around the second floor. Arkgrim walked in silence, his gaze darting from one group of girls to another, but his resolve had diminished.

  "Arkgrim," I couldn't hold back. "Are you scared?"

  "Yeah... a little bit," he admitted, and his voice suddenly became very thin. "The longer I choose, the more I start to doubt myself. They are all so... confident."

  And then it happened. A girl walked out of a youth clothing store. Bright green hair, a short jacket, a pair of huge shopping bags in her hands. She looked about seventeen, a typical capital city girl. She noticed Arkgrim's intense, almost frightened gaze, as he froze in the middle of the corridor like a statue.

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  The girl wasn't embarrassed. On the contrary—she resolutely headed straight toward us. Arkgrim swallowed, seemingly forgetting how to breathe.

  She walked right up to him, looked him up and down, and... simply tossed one of the heavy bags into his hands.

  "Oh, how lucky," she drawled, smiling insolently. "Boy, you're just in time. Come with me, you'll be my servant for today. Help me carry the rest to the parking lot."

  I froze, speechless. It was so unexpected and audacious that my brain shut down for a second. I looked at Arkgrim, expecting him to get indignant, deliver some biting joke, or just run away.

  'NO, ARKGRIM!' I yelled internally. 'You're the hunter! You promised to be the king of this city, not a free porter!'

  But Arkgrim... Arkgrim just stood there, hugging the bag with the logo of an expensive brand, and looked up at the green-haired girl with his huge black eyes. His 'Direct Action' plan had worked, but clearly not in the direction he had intended. It seemed the hunter had himself become the prey, without even having time to set his snares.

  It was a truly pathetic sight. The 'king of the food court' had turned into a mute pack mule. Arkgrim trudged behind the green-haired girl, loaded with bags up to his chin, and looked as if he had been hypnotized. He remained silent, obediently moving his feet, and didn't even try to resist.

  "Hey, Arkgrim! Earth calling base!" I waved my hand in front of his nose, but to no avail.

  Every time this girl turned around and threw an imperious glance at him, it was as if he fell into a trance all over again. She was clearly used to bossing people around and took full advantage of her unexpected loot.

  "Alright, boy," she sang out as we stepped into the parking lot. "Now to the car."

  An elderly man in a strict suit was waiting for us by a shiny black sedan—apparently, a chauffeur or butler. He accepted the bags from Arkgrim's hands with an impassive look. The girl smiled triumphantly and was already reaching for the door handle.

  "Well, thanks for helping me carry my treasures, boy," she threw over her shoulder.

  At that moment, the magic seemed to begin to dissipate. Arkgrim blinked, his gaze cleared, and, gathering all his will into a fist, he squeezed out:

  "Wait! And... what's your name?"

  She laughed ringingly, looking at him like a funny puppy.

  "Rabuki Nihoro. Remember that name, maybe someday I'll let you hold my bags again."

  And then something strange happened. Arkgrim's face instantly smoothed out. All that awe, all the timidity evaporated in a single second, replaced by a mask of icy indifference. He winced, as if he had eaten a lemon.

  "Ah, no, we're leaving, Leon," he dropped dryly, spinning on his heels. "Her name isn't very good. Too many hissing sounds, I don't like it."

  I froze with my mouth open.

  "What do you mean 'you don't like her name'?" I whispered. "We lugged her clothes around for forty minutes!"

  "Damn, Leon, we wasted so much time on this empty shell," Arkgrim declared at the top of his voice, completely unconcerned that Rabuki was standing two meters away from him. "Pretty, but zero substance. Let's get out of here."

  Such a sudden mood swing hit me worse than an electric shock. But it hit Rabuki's ego even harder.

  "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!" a furious hiss came from behind.

  I turned around and saw the girl's face turning crimson.

  "What did you just say, you little runt?! An empty shell?!"

  Some heavy bottle flew at Arkgrim's head—apparently, a gift from the perfume store. Before I could even gasp, he, without even turning around, tilted his head slightly, and the glass whistled past, shattering against the parking lot wall.

  Rabuki, pushing the chauffeur aside, lunged forward and ran straight at us with a scream.

  "Well, well, Leon, a psychopath is chasing us!" Arkgrim grabbed me by the sleeve and bolted for the exit with such speed that my sneakers barely touched the asphalt. "I told you, Leon, there was something wrong with her! The fauna is too aggressive! RUN!"

  "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO MEET GIRLS!" I yelled, trying not to crash into a pillar.

  "I WANTED A GIRL, NOT A FURY!" Arkgrim laughed as he ran, and that same crazy little fire burned in his eyes again. "Plans are changing! The next target must have a normal name!"

  We dashed across the parking lot to Rabuki's screams and the indignant honks of cars. The 'Direct Action' plan had officially failed, but our physical training was top-notch today.