A hush fell over the coastline, broken only by the wind kicking up sand around the four men sprawled on the ground. Rydan stood tall, one foot firmly planted in the sand as he surveyed the defeated group. None of them were seriously hurt—thankfully—their bruised pride undeniable. In this kind of fight, that was what counted.

He wasn’t sure if his guild rank would protect him this time. A permanent ban from Ever Summer was a risk he couldn’t afford. Still, letting them walk away unscathed was a necessary compromise.

“Even a peace-loving guy... has his limits... you know,” he said with a huff, wiping sweat from his brow. His shirt hung more disheveled than before, sunglasses now cocked on his head. Aside from a few bruises, he was unscathed—not that it helped the fact that he’d hurt civilians.

He glanced over at the four men, sprawled out awkwardly in the sand like crabs stranded too far from the tide. With a sigh, he massaged his forehead, preparing himself for the inevitable storm of complaints that was coming.

“You could’ve played along, you know?” Rydan muttered, his voice tinged with frustration as he turned toward Sandra, who hadn’t even broken a sweat through the whole ordeal.

She tilted her head slightly, a blank look on her face, like question marks might float above her at any moment.

“It should be common sense!” Rydan shouted, hands in the air. “Common. Sense.”

‘Not as annoying as the other four… but still annoying,’ Sandra thought, her brows twitching ever so slightly.

Before she could even muster a response, a soft, unmistakable growl interrupted him.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, a cute little noise that seemed to echo in the still air, cutting through the tension with impeccable timing.

Rydan blinked, his previous frustration melting away as he glanced at her with a grin that was almost... amused. “Hungry?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Sandra’s face flushed slightly, her gaze shifting awkwardly to the side. She gave a small nod.

The wind picked up as the sound of the nearby waves whispered over the moment. Rydan chuckled, not in the least bit offended by her indifference, but clearly more than willing to change topics. “Well, I was gonna offer to show you where the jellyfish are, but now I think it’s time for something more important—like food.”

Sandra nodded, still embarrassed, and without a word, followed him toward the nearby beachside stand. Rydan couldn’t help but smile, feeling oddly content that he was the one who could finally provide something in return after the whole fiasco.

***

The open-air restaurant was nestled just off the boardwalk, shaded by broad canvas awnings and framed by lazy palm trees. The breeze carried the scent of grilled fish and tropical spices, mingling with the rhythmic sound of waves lapping the shore.

Rydan sat across from Sandra, trying to act unfazed as his companion plowed through her fourth plate of grilled squid. His confident smile twitched more with every bite she took.

One plate vanished. Then another. Skewers clattered onto the table like fallen soldiers.

‘How is she still going?’ he thought, discreetly counting the coins in his head. ‘Does she have a secret storage ring inside her stomach?’

He maintained his signature grin, though it was becoming more forced by the minute. “Order as much as you like, ha ha…”

“I’m planning to,” Sandra said flatly, not even looking up.

He winced internally. That tone wasn’t sarcasm—it was a statement of fact, like announcing the weather.

‘She’s got a body as slim as a dancer’s, but eats like a starving basilisk. What is she made of?’

Across the table, Sandra picked another skewer and took a thoughtful bite, chewing in silence.

‘This food is strange’, she thought. But tasty. Crunchy. There was a sharp, biting flavor she couldn’t place—almost abrasive on the tongue. She kept chewing, too hungry to stop, but the odd taste lingered.

She noticed Rydan’s eyes on her and finally glanced up. “What’s that strange taste?” she asked between bites, curiosity breaking through her hunger.

Rydan smiled knowingly. “You mean that sharp, briny flavor?”

Sandra gave a short nod, her brow twitching just a bit.

“That’s salt — a local staple used to bring out the flavors. You don’t like it?”

Sandra considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “It tastes... hostile, but… bearable.” Without missing a beat, she grabbed another skewer and kept eating.

Rydan leaned back, pretending to relax, one arm over the back of his chair like he was posing for a painting. “You sure you’re not hiding a second mouth in there?” he joked. “Maybe even a pocket dimension?”

Sandra blinked slowly, then looked up—expression unreadable. “No. Just hungry,” she said—then took another bite, still holding his gaze.

She didn’t break eye contact as she chewed deliberately.

‘Damn’, Rydan thought. ‘She’s not just hot. She’s terrifying.’

He laughed nervously and flagged down the waiter. “Another round, please.”

He didn’t run. Of course he didn’t.
He might be broke by the end of this, but something about Sandra—her calm, her weirdness, her total disregard for his charm—made her far more interesting than any other F-rank he’d ever met.

Even if she did eat like a monster in disguise.

***

The rocky shore baked under the afternoon sun, its jagged edges kissed by the lazy splash of incoming waves. The air smelled of salt and distant kelp, and below the surface, the sea shimmered with faint blue light—glowing jellyfish drifting like spectral lanterns just beneath the tide.

A girl stood barefoot on the warm stone, her skin pale as polished porcelain. Her white one-piece swimsuit, trimmed with subtle gold patterns, hugged her form. A semi-transparent cloth hung from her hips like a skirt, swaying gently in the sea breeze—modest but elegant. It wasn’t something she liked wearing, but blending in was easier than enduring the stares. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail, while thick bangs veiled most of her face, save for a narrow slit that revealed one golden eye—unblinking, unreadable.

Next to her stood a tall, lean, sun-kissed young man with tousled ocean-blue hair and a mischievous grin. He wore a half-open floral shirt over swim trunks, sandals on his feet, and a shark tooth necklace around his neck. A rune-etched surfboard was tucked under one arm as he squinted toward the sea.

A shimmer rippled just beneath the surface—quick, silent, and gone before his eyes could focus. Shrugging it off, he shaded his eyes with one hand.

“So there you have it,” Rydan said. “Your target: sting-happy blobs of doom. You sure you don’t want help?”

Sandra squinted at the creatures, unimpressed. “They’re small.”

“Right, but they sting.”

“I eat things with stingers.”

“…Right,” he muttered.

Without another word, Sandra stepped forward—and dove.

There was no grace, no splash, no careful entry. Just a plummet—a dead drop into the sea like a sack of bricks.

Rydan blinked, leaning forward, expecting her to come back up.

She didn’t.

“…Wait,” he said, curiosity flickering in his voice. He thought he knew what was happening—he just didn’t want to believe it, hoping the next second would prove him wrong.

But reality was harsh. Still nothing.

“…Oh crap.”

He flung his surfboard aside and dove in after her. Salt and bubbles blurred his vision as he knifed through the water. It didn’t take long—Sandra had sunk like a stone, limbs stiff, her golden eye wide with panic and surprise.

Rydan grabbed her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and kicked upward with urgency. Her body was cold. Not like a drowning victim—more like a creature that had no place in the sea, like her very presence resisted it.

***

The sea burned.

It wasn't fire, but it might as well have been— something alien bit into her skin, seeping deep, as if trying to strip her layer by layer. Her limbs wouldn't respond. Not from fear. From rejection. Like something fundamental within her refused the water—and the sea returned the sentiment.

She sank. Heavy. Cold. Unwelcome.

Somewhere through the haze, an arm closed around her waist. Warmth. Motion. A presence pulling her upward. She didn’t fight it.

Then—light. Air. Sand.

They collapsed onto the shore moments later—Sandra on her hands and knees, coughing and gasping. Her soaked black hair clung to her face like seaweed. Her arms trembled, not from exhaustion, but from something deeper—like the sea had tried to swallow her whole.

"It tried to eat me," she muttered, spitting water.

"It’s water," Rydan said, panting. "It doesn’t eat people. You just can’t swim!"

She glared at him, eyes narrowed like he’d insulted her lineage. "It pulled me down."

"That’s what not knowing how to swim does!" he threw up his arms. "Seriously, you just dove like you were trying to get reincarnated!"

Sandra dropped back onto the sand, lying flat and staring up at the wide, open sky. Just at the edge of her vision, the endless waves rolled on. "I don’t like this... wet."

Rydan flopped beside her, dripping wet and half amused. "Yeah, you don’t say."

“And it burns... like something sharp against my skin,” she said, rubbing her arms as if trying to scrape away the feeling.

Rydan grinned, shaking his head. “That’s just salt—sea’s natural seasoning.”

Sandra looked down at her arms, frowning.

“Sensitive to salt?” Rydan asked, eyes narrowing with curious interest.

"Is that what that is? I hate it." She stared at the sea with visible disdain, like it had personally wronged her.

“…You’ve got a serious grudge against water, huh?”

In the end, Rydan took care of the jellyfish himself. Sandra, now wrapped in a towel and pouting at a safe distance from the tide, didn’t object. Not even once.

She wasn’t going near that cursed water again.