The last time stayed in the sunflower field.

The wheels crunched over the dirt, letting out a monotonous creaking sound. Reg hunched over, practically sinking into the shadow of the driver’s seat. Since returning from the Hakurei Shrine, the vague, heavy feeling had settled over him like a water-soaked quilt, heavy on his heart. The bad luck, constantly following him like a shadow he could never shake, made him irritable and exhausted.

“Sigh…”

He had no destination, merely cranking the lever subconsciously, letting the rickety mobile workshop bump aimlessly through the wilderness.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the damp, unique scent of the mountain forest was replaced by a thick, strangely vital fragrance of flowers. Reg raised his head blankly.

In his field of vision, a golden torrent spread across the land. An endless field of sunflowers was ablaze in the evening sun. Each flower head was stubbornly tracking the setting sun, their enormous leaves swaying in the slight breeze. It was a beauty of extreme vitality yet crushing presence, silent but containing a wordless roar.

It was the Sunflower Field.

The mobile workshop creaked to a stop at the edge of the field, daring not to venture an inch further. Reg pushed the door open, his feet touching the soil. The floral scent was so strong it almost drowned him. The flower stalks were tall enough to block his view, leaving only a patch of sky above, dyed crimson and gold.

“Sister Yuuka… are you there?” he called out toward the depths of the flower field, his voice dry and lacking confidence.

The wind seemed to pause for a moment.

In the depths of that golden ocean, a few tall sunflowers tilted slightly to the sides. A tall figure appeared soundlessly at the fork in the path. Kazami Yuuka held her signature parasol, its rim casting a deep shadow that made her fair skin look almost translucent. Her smooth, waist-length green hair gleamed, and her ruby-red eyes sharply penetrated the distance, precisely landing on Reg.

It was the Yuuka from the older games, and she looked very serious now, as if she had just returned from a battle. She walked slowly, her parasol swaying gently with her steps. The air seemed to solidify. The intangible pressure made Reg subconsciously shrink his neck, even softening his breathing.

Yuuka stopped a few steps in front of him, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and her eyes finally settled on his face.

“You’re here? Do you roughly understand your origin now?”

There was no question, no greeting. She simply extended a slender, white-gloved hand, her movement as natural as brushing dew from a petal. She curled her index finger and tapped Reg’s forehead—not too lightly, not too heavily—with her knuckle.

Thump.

The tap carried an undeniable force.

“Ouch! That hurt!” Reg clutched his forehead. Even though Yuuka had greatly restrained her power, it still made him feel the pain.

“What a pathetic sight. You can’t even withstand this much force? How exactly did you survive those disasters—luck, or someone else’s help?” Yuuka’s tone was very faint, yet the concern hidden deep in her eyes did not surface.

Reg rubbed his bruised forehead. The slight pain actually made his dizzy head clear up a bit. He looked at Yuuka’s calm, wave-less red eyes, which seemed to see through everything. The pent-up frustration and grievances in his chest were torn open by this short, almost disdainful remark.

He opened his mouth, wanting to talk about the Shrine, the recent events, his helplessness… But in the end, all the words caught in his throat, only coalescing into a sigh filled with deep weariness. He lowered his head, looking at his mud-stained shoetips, and muttered sullenly, like a child caught misbehaving by a parent: “It’s just… I’m a bit tired. I don’t know how to face my life anymore. I keep encountering death events. I’m in so much pain… can I really endure this?”

Yuuka did not respond to his words. She quietly looked at his bowed head. After a moment, her red eyes shifted to the mobile workshop, and to Medicine, who was cautiously peeking out through a gap in the window.

The doll met the cold gaze and instantly shrank back, trembling in the shadows of the carriage, daring not to show herself again.

Yuuka withdrew her gaze and returned it to Reg. Her parasol tilted slightly, shielding him from the last bit of dazzling sunset light, leaving only the surrounding golden shadows and the sweet, cloying floral scent.

“Come in.” She turned and walked toward the vaguely visible mansion deep within the flower field, leaving behind only a brief, unquestionable command. “Wash off the bad luck on you. You have something you need to protect, so why are you so discouraged?”

“Go on, follow me. Being alive doesn’t require an answer.”

Reg froze, looking up at the elegant green figure walking away. The flower stalks silently closed behind her, as if making way for her exclusive path. That powerful presence and the simple, blunt way of comforting actually loosened the stagnant gloom in his heart, just a tiny bit.

He sighed, resignedly lifting his feet, and followed the huge shadow, stepping into the silent and dangerous garden ruled by flowers.

Walking deep into the flower field, he arrived at the mansion surrounded by giant sunflowers. The last glow of the sunset dyed the sea of flowers molten gold. Yuuka stopped at the door, with no intention of entering. The large parasol in her hand elegantly rotated, its tip gently tapping the soil. Her gaze turned to Reg, placid but carrying an invisible pressure.

“Want to practice? Want to try?” Her voice was flat.

Reg looked up, meeting her eyes. The feeling of fatigue was replaced by something deeper, almost numb. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, showing a bitter smile.

“Alright. If you’re serious, Sister Yuuka, I might turn to ash and die right here. That might be a decent end, I guess.”

He didn’t adopt any defensive posture; he even took a step forward, facing Yuuka. There was no fear, no anger in his eyes, only a nearly nihilistic calmness. It was as if he was saying, Come, end this suffering in your most direct way.

“You have no talent for staying alive.” Yuuka looked at him silently, her gaze seemingly penetrating his outward calm, reaching the exhausted wasteland deep in his soul.

A few seconds of silence, as heavy as the flower field itself.

Then, a subtle smile, like the ripple of a small stone thrown into a deep pool, spread across her exquisite lips. There was no mockery or pity in that smile, only an almost knowing clarity, and even… an indescribable softness.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” She just nodded slightly.

Swoosh!

Without warning, the giant parasol descended with a low whistle that tore the air, striking at Reg like a falling thunderbolt! The speed and power carried a devastating momentum.

Reg’s pupils contracted, and his body’s instinct made him throw himself sideways. The parasol’s edge grazed past his arm. The force of the wind it created stung his cheek, and a few strands of his hair were cut and scattered into the golden field. In an instant, his arm dropped to the ground. He rolled away clumsily, mud clinging to his newly changed clothes.

Reg struggled to get up and looked at Yuuka again. She was still standing in the same spot, the parasol hanging diagonally by her side, as if that earth-shattering blow was just an illusion. It seemed she had intentionally deflected it slightly. That’s why Reg’s skull hadn’t been pierced.

But under the sunset, that strange smile on her face still lingered.

Reg gasped, the lifelessness in his eyes replaced by something more complex. Was it confusion? Or a minimal tremor brought about by the smile itself?

The wind in the flower field seemed to quiet down too. Only the huge sunflowers swayed silently, witnessing this unfinished sparring match marked by death.

“You fear death, and I fear death too. Charging forward fearlessly, like stepping into a withered sea of flowers—that is a fear, that is endless dedication. I cannot claim to have a very profound or brilliant understanding of it.” Yuuka said faintly, watching the fearful Reg without finding anything wrong.

“It’s just that I once had a loved one who told me that being covered in scars is perhaps not a big problem. A dead heart or a dead body is not a major issue either. What is terrifying is living a mediocre life, achieving nothing, having no goals, fearing and resisting everything. Forgetting emotion, forgetting the innate capacity to feel—that, to me, is truly frightening.”

“Compared to that situation, even if you succumb to despair, it’s better to come back to consciousness afterward. Your flower buds have already withered on the tip of my parasol. Live on. Living freely and untamed is a blessing given to each of us by heaven.”

Reg was about to ask something, but Yuuka simply pinched his cheek, covering his nose. “If you had died, I would have done nothing, protected nothing, and the people next to you would have silently disappeared.”

He hadn’t died, and he could clearly sense that Yuuka hadn’t intended to kill him.

“It seems you haven’t grasped the necessity of survival? Your life today belongs only to me, understood? Don’t be afraid of death. Have some tea, and talk about your troubles. Death is more priceless compared to pain.”

Yuuka gently touched his wound. In an instant, all his wounds vanished without a trace. My loved one… The wind may carry away dandelions, but troubles require someone to listen and solve them.

“Become strong, come and become strong and dominate me.”

“Sister Yuuka?”

“Hmm?”

“You look quite good like this too.” Yuuka stroked Reg’s head, her eyes filled with concealed affection.

“Sister Yuuka, what did you just say?” Reg hadn’t heard what Yuuka said due to a massive gust of wind.

“Something about the mating of flower buds, perhaps.”

“Eh? That’s a huge shift in topic, isn’t it?”

“Hmm… I’m afraid I might forget.”

“Huh? Why are you suddenly being so nonsensical?”

“I don’t need your power. Go and change all this. No matter how much pain you experience, never trust others, not even me.” Yuuka gently patted Reg’s head with her hand. This was the Flower Tyrant’s final gentleness.

The giant sunflowers began to shift, ushering him out.

“Come and absorb my experience. Quite a few people have already died here. Don’t hesitate. Don’t show any kindness. Just give them their final death. Just like a withered rose requires not a single bit of pity.”

Yuuka stood quietly, mass death seemingly occurring behind her. The rules of the outside world seemed unable to affect this flower field. This place felt like a safe house, incredibly reassuring, but Yuuka didn’t seem to intend for Reg to stay long.

“For the next day, I will impart all my experience to you. This also means you will not die, but you will undergo training more painful than death.” Yuuka said faintly. Just as experience needs to be passed down, the legacy of a strong person must continue. And this cowardly fellow in front of her perhaps needed her gentleness.

His life today was hers to control. As for his actions the next day, Yuuka would not restrain him forever. In front of me, you absolutely cannot die.