Chapter 8: Dare to Quit the Team, and I'll Beat You to Death

Page 1/3

The familiar corridor, the familiar door—Xiangzi stood before the practice room, taking a deep breath as her chest rose and fell slightly. Even after spending the entire night preparing herself mentally, feeling confident, her heart still felt heavy now that she was truly here.

Starting a relationship was often simple: a self-introduction, a request to get to know one another, and easily exchanging contact information. But ending a relationship was always difficult, burdened by too many attachments and memories. Those who said “never see you again” and those who cried behind their backs shared the same depth of pain.

Her fingers gently grasped the doorknob. She had been here many times before, but this time it felt as heavy as opening a gateway to another world.

The door opened. Seeing Xiangzi drenched from head to toe, Sosei Nagasaki immediately pulled out a handkerchief and rushed over to offer comfort. Akari Takamatsu visibly sighed with relief. Ritsuki Shiina simply glanced at her with indifference, while Mutsuki Wakaba only slightly turned aside, still bowed over her guitar.

Three weeks—a span neither long nor short. Everyone still looked familiar, in good spirits as usual. The peaceful everyday life was so comforting.

But this no longer belonged to her.

Brushing aside Sosei’s kind gesture, Xiangzi forced her voice steady to avoid trembling. “I came today to tell everyone something. I... am withdrawing from CryChic.”

Sosei was shocked, incredulous; her voice trembled with panic. “Wait... why so suddenly? Can we sit down first? What happened? Can’t you tell us? Is it because of us? If there’s a problem, we can fix it!”

“It’s just my own problem,” Xiangzi replied coldly, unwilling even to meet Sosei’s eyes.

“Why? Weren’t you happy at the last performance? Didn’t you say you wanted to continue?”

“I never said that.”

Sosei nervously rubbed her thumbs, trying to find the right words to salvage the situation. “But you’re the founder of CryChic. If you aren’t here, then we...”

“You can practice without me. Just find a new keyboardist, won’t that be fine?”

“Are you really... quitting?”

Akari Takamatsu’s voice was hoarse as she asked.

A fragile chord twanged deep within Xiangzi’s heart, but she forced herself to remain resolute. Now was no time for weakness—once she softened, she’d never regain strength.

“My interests have shifted to kendo. I don’t have time to manage two extracurricular activities. I won’t be coming anymore.”

“So, the band was just a fleeting pastime for you?”

Ritsuki stood, eyes cold and sharp as blades.

“Could you stop treating us like disposable things? Disappearing without a word, leaving everyone here wasting their time waiting for you, only to show up just to say goodbye. What do we mean to you? Idiots who just play band games for the rich girl for free?”

“That’s right. So I don’t need you anymore.”

The already heavy atmosphere shattered completely under this bombshell—shock, disbelief, and incredulity filled the room. No one could believe these words came from Xiangzi—the sunshine who once warmed everyone suddenly seemed like a stranger.

“Are you serious?” Ritsuki sneered in fury.

“Want me to repeat it for you?” Xiangzi said flatly.

Yes, she would play the villain. Only by cutting ties cleanly could she make them give up on her, seek new members, and keep CryChic alive.

Those burdened with dragon blood and hatred had no time for a band. Odin could come knocking again anytime. If any of them got caught up in it, even ritual suicide wouldn’t atone for the crime.

Learning to let go was the truest love for CryChic.

“I won’t come here anymore,” Xiangzi said, placing her hands before her as she bowed to her former comrades. “Thank you all for everything. Let’s part ways here.”

She turned and left. Sosei reached out to stop her but Ritsuki slapped her hand away.

“Xiangzi!”

Just as her fingers gripped the doorknob, Akari’s voice called out from behind.

Page 2/3

“Is there something else?” Xiangzi’s footsteps faltered but she did not turn.

“I hate it when you talk to yourself like this!”

If no one acted now, Xiangzi would truly leave. Without words, everything would be lost forever.

Akari felt she had to stand up and plead, but didn’t know how. She blurted out without thinking.

“I hate it when you disappear without a sound! I want to sing only with you! Write songs just for me! Perform live only with me! I want to be by your side when you’re happy, when you’re smiling! That’s what I want! My head hurts so badly, it’s painful! I’ve been thinking about you all this time, going crazy! I’ve been waiting for your call!”

“Is it so hard to reach out? To tell me what’s wrong? After all these days apart, don’t you care about me at all? Not one bit? Do you even remember the day I asked you why you chose me as the lead singer? You said it was because you wrote the lyrics and only I could sing your inner cries. I was so happy then...”

What was she saying? Though the words were hers, Akari heard nothing but a flood of feelings bursting from her chest, like a song desperate to be sung.

“Do you forget what we did on the bridge? You told me to shout whatever I wanted, so every day without you, I stood there screaming that I want to be human. I remembered every word you said. Am I nothing to you? Just a friend? An ordinary friend? I don’t want to be ordinary. Even a little bit more than ordinary. I want to be an extraordinary friend... even just a little...”

“If you leave CryChic behind like this, I will find you—even if I have to break your hands and feet!”

The practice room fell silent. Rain tapped softly against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everyone stared blankly at Akari—everyone except Xiangzi.

The soundproof room held her voice as it echoed and reverberated. By the end, Akari was shouting.

No one expected someone usually so quiet to speak so much in one moment, nor to make such a terrifying vow. It was as if an invisible force descended upon her, the world retreating into silence, leaving only the patter of rain.

Xiangzi kept telling herself no, no, no—never look back during farewells. One glance and all courage would vanish.

But she couldn’t resist. Those precious memories were vivid. She said she wanted to give up, but that was just an excuse. The more she tried to forget, the deeper the pain etched itself.

Slowly, she turned around, telling herself one last goodbye to Akari... just once.

She would never forget that moment—the molten gold flowing in Akari’s eyes, dazzling and intense. Not even Odin’s single great eye on the overpass had such majesty.

All sound and thought faded away. A great terror exploded in Xiangzi’s heart, blanking her mind. She shuddered uncontrollably, her vision filled only with those golden eyes.

Only one kind of person in the world had such eyes—a hybrid bearing both dragon and human blood.

When did Akari become a hybrid? Did she even know? Had she encountered the Death Knight or Odin? Did she understand what that meant?

Xiangzi’s head felt like it would split apart. Strange fragments of thought exploded in her mind. She kept thinking of a script—somewhere in this world, a script dictated everyone’s fate.

To keep CryChic’s members safe from the hybrid world’s reach, she chose to quit, becoming the villain to sever ties, hoping they’d live peacefully.

But fate loved cruel jokes. Her dearest Akari was a golden-eyed hybrid.

Such lineage was no blessing. Ruri Kazama had said that every year, tens of thousands vanished in Japan, all linked to dragon blood.

If Akari got entangled in this, would she end up like Xiangzi on that overpass? Would the Death Knight and Odin be waiting at some crossroads? Xiangzi survived only through her father’s sacrifice and luck—who would protect Akari?

“Are you okay?” Sosei noticed Xiangzi trembling.

“I’m fine... really...” Xiangzi said unconvincingly, steadying herself by gripping Sosei’s shoulder, her voice weak. “Akari, lately... have you encountered anything strange?”

“Strange... things?”

Akari’s golden eyes dimmed briefly like a fading flower, returning to the fragile creature beneath. Her pink irises lost all majesty and courage from before. Faced with the sudden question, she looked lost.

“Like monsters or demons.”

“I don’t watch horror movies.”

“I’m not talking about movies!” Xiangzi nearly shouted, scaring Akari. Ritsuki pulled Akari behind her, glaring fiercely.

“At this point, why pretend to care? Do you think we still have some use to you?” Ritsuki said coldly, already seeing Xiangzi as an enemy.

“Don’t talk like that, please. We’re friends who play in the band together,” Sosei tried to ease the tension, stepping in quickly.

Page 3/3

“She made her stance clear. Do you still think she’s your friend? I don’t remember that word ever being so cheap.”

“I never considered you a friend. I care about Akari,” Xiangzi stepped forward, pressing a hand to Ritsuki’s shoulder. “Step aside.”

“Want to fight? Fine! I’ve wanted to hit you for a long time! You don’t care about us, why should we care about you?”

Ritsuki grabbed Xiangzi’s collar, slamming her against the wall. The impact made Xiangzi whimper softly. She clenched her fists, ready to fight back if Ritsuki advanced further.

Since her bloodline awakened, Xiangzi had never truly struck anyone, but she knew no girl her age could match her strength now.

“Sit down! Both of you! Good! Sit and talk!”

Sosei was furious. She kept trying to calm things, but these two only lit the fuse with every word, utterly ignoring her.

The golden sea of emotion surged like waves in Sosei’s eyes. A mysterious, invisible domain spread out. Everyone caught in its reach suddenly felt their knees weigh a thousand pounds, and after struggling for a few seconds, they collapsed into kneeling.

“We’ve all been happily playing in this band for so long. What’s there that we can’t openly talk about?”

Sosei kneeled too, grabbing Xiangzi’s and Ritsuki’s hands, placing them together on her knees.

When kids fought in kindergarten, the teacher made them hold hands all day. By dismissal, they were friends again. Sosei always remembered this as a way to break the ice.

But this didn’t seem as effective as she hoped. Xiangzi’s eyes were wide with astonishment, as if a monster had just seen the Ultraman about to destroy it.

Probably scared by such a strange sight, Sosei smiled reassuringly. She neither explained nor clarified, letting everyone pretend it was just an earthquake or something.

“Mutsuki, you feel the same, right?” Sosei continued, looking for an ally.

Mutsuki Wakaba had remained uninvolved in this whole departure drama, quietly holding her guitar. Even when Sosei’s magic forced everyone to kneel, Mutsuki still cradled her beloved instrument on her lap.

She seemed like a silent doll—ignored until asked, then only speaking a few words.

“I... never enjoyed playing in the band.”

“Huh?” Sosei’s smile froze.

Mutsuki slowly lifted her head. Her golden eyes held no warmth, but burned brightly as if silently aflame.

Dizziness overwhelmed Xiangzi. Her vision blurred.

She had lost count of how many times today this had happened. The repeated shocks left her heart unable to calm.

Akari, Sosei, Mutsuki—all the people she wanted to protect were hybrids. Some might already have stepped into the dragon realm; some might not yet know what horrors awaited.

Clinging to her last hope, Xiangzi looked toward Ritsuki.

“...What are you doing? Don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you look at me like that,” Ritsuki recoiled in horror, seeing tenderness in Xiangzi’s eyes.

Suddenly, Xiangzi opened her arms and embraced Ritsuki tightly.

Startled, Ritsuki tried to push her away, but couldn’t. The person in her arms was trembling, terrified and desperate, like a soul escaping from hell.

After hesitating, Ritsuki gently patted Xiangzi’s back under everyone’s gaze.

“Idiot.”