“What the hell are you doing in someone else’s turf! Wanna die? F*ck, did your guts fall out of your belly or what! You even know where you are! Aang!”
Choi Dawit bristled and growled like a Tosa fighting dog.
She looked ready to pounce the instant someone yelled, Bite!—and what stopped her was a single line from the novice monk.
Dangling by the collar from Choi Dawit’s grip, the novice monk squeaked, “E-excuse me!”
“Aren’t you Baldoje-nim?”
……
……
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
What… is that transparency?
You could practically see the gears turning across Choi Dawit’s face.
Every thought lay bare—an incredible, pure, blank-page kind of transparency.
Thud. The novice monk tumbled to the floor.
“Ugh!”
Paying it no mind at all, Choi Dawit flicked dust from her collar, turned, and smoothed down her hair. She cleared her throat—k-hemm, ahem—over and over.
No. No. It’s already too late.
Then she whipped back around.
“Are you okay? That must have…