I tuck the transceiver inside my gambeson in a hurry. When I finally pull out my hand, it now holds a rusty throwing knife.

I throw the knife towards the rat with the best accuracy I could muster. The blade flies true. I have a good feeling this will hit.

But alas, living targets can evade.

The knife embeds itself to the wooden floor, its vibrating hilt mirroring the amount of strength I put in it due to my fury.

The rat does evade, but it does not run away. It continues to mock me.

But I have no time for this. Saving Pink is more important.

"I can catch you later, but this may be the only time I can save Pink," I tell the rat, pointing at it with my finger. I decide that I shall also flash my ring finger. Well, it is my substitute to the middle finger or my mom will beat me up to death. Doing that shut the rat up for some reason.

I dash out of the mess and search for Pink's cabin. One deck down and the last room in the hall. I ran so fast that I think I must have broken the national sprint record. Just kidding. Laughing awkwardly to myself, I admit that I tend to calm myself down during stressful situations by thinking silly things.

I throw the door open, not minding whether or not I may hit a person on the other side. Thankfully there isn't. Pink is lying limp on the side of her bed, only her head is over the mattress. She is unconscious.

Rushing to her, I shake her awake, but to no avail. What do I do, what do I do?

Checking my small item bag, I take out the vials. Okay, antitoxins are ready.

But how do I make her drink this?

As I panic, I try pushing the vial into her mouth. The potion does not go down her throat!

Sheet!

I even try pushing her lips with my palm to apply downward pressure but I can only say that that is one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life.

"Help! Is somebody out there? Help!"

I guess no one can help her but me.

Despite the stressful circumstances, my sight falls on Pink's lush lips. I smack myself on the head. What the heck am I thinking right now?

Wait...