...
Yves King sank to the bottom of the water, lying on his back with his arms and legs stretched out, relaxing his tense body. That malicious Fujiwara Riichi, really wanting to freeze him to death, stepped out of the bathtub only to be hit by the chilly mountain wind—almost turning into a popsicle. Drawn by the enchanting music, he couldn't wait to come over and, upon seeing the hot springs steaming, he carelessly leaped over the thorny bushes into the water.
Yves King surfaced, feeling a comfortable sigh of relief, finally dispelling the coldness from his body.
Suddenly, as swift as a bolt from the blue, a flash of cold light streaked before Yves King, and a sharp blade, like an arrow shot from a bow, came slashing at the top of his head. In a split second, Yves King swiftly rolled to the side, avoiding the fierce strike.
