Into An Inescapable Corner

What can I do–?! In every way, he's better. That wild tenacity of his makes him impossible to read, or to counter, and his strength and speed seem even better than mine…! So what can I do…!? He thought.

–The answer came as he realized the source of the issue he was lingering on: the man was perhaps a greater assassin-class player than himself, but he was not just an assassin.

As the "Ripper" skill came to an end, leaving the barrier in shambles, he prepared himself for his next move, waiting for the man to break the barrier with an overhead strike before committing himself to this new route of attack.

"Sin! Sin! Sin–!"

As the hooded, scar-faced man with inhuman eyes slammed his blade against the barrier, shattering it, he tucked his daggers into their sheaths, instead opting to go for a straight right directly against the man's jaw.

"Wha–?"

Even the maddened man was taken aback by the peculiar action, being promptly quited as the knuckles of the one he backed into the corner slammed against his jaw, causing the lanky man to stumble back.

"What? What?! What–?! You still reject my salvation–?! Inconceivable!"

The man was practically drooling as his words came out angered, shaking his head as if to disperse the effects of the blow before he sprinted towards the curly, red-haired young man again.

I just have to let my instincts take over. Don't think too hard about it, and don't worry–just do it, he thought.

Possessing this new state of focus, he kept his eyes on the man as he met him halfway without holding any weapons, sidestepping the wild strike aimed for his head and tucking himself under the man's arm, using his own weight and force against him.

"Hyaah–!"

With a swift, well-executed movement, he tossed the man over his shoulder, slamming him into the steel flooring below as the impact resounded, echoing off of the dark walls.

"Pyah…!" The crazed man spit out as his breath escaped his lungs.

It was something even his inexperienced self recognized–a picture-perfect, classic judo throw. Though it was executed with extreme force, as the impact against the ground made the surrounding walls vibrate, causing the man of sparse sanity to gasp out.

"...Have enough yet?" He asked, catching his breath, "I've got places to be, so just get out of my way...!"

Before he could even properly extend a truce of sorts, the man who blatantly ignored his words jumped back to his feet in an unnatural way, landing on his soles though his back was leaned far back, lifting his upper body slowly.

…Of course it wouldn't be that easy, he thought.

The maddened man straightened himself, waving his arms to balance himself as he cackled, replacing his smile once more across his lips.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

"--You can talk like a normal person?" He asked, actually surprised.

"I prefer not to engage with dirty, rancid sinners like yourself," the cross-scarred man said, "But, you seem so adamant about talking."

It was almost more unnerving to actually have the man speak to him properly now–he could clearly see there was a consciousness behind that utter madness.

"Why're you calling me a sinner?...I'll have you know I've been pretty damn behaved," he asked.

"You're all sinners–! Those who still seek paradise are sinners! It was your sin that sunk this world, it was your sin that earned the scorn of God, don't you see?!" The man began to frantically spew his words.

"What–?! I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but wouldn't that make you a sinner, too?!" He contested the crazed man.

"Oh, yeah! Indeed! We all are! However, I work in earnest to send the ignorant heathens such as yourself to the depths of hell! I won't allow you to sully the pure gates of Heaven! I won't! I will not!"

"You're a nut job!"

I have to get past this guy and find the others–! If there are others, then…! I don't want to think about that! He thought.

It didn't take many words before they were thrown into another clash as he narrowly avoided the jagged edge of the blood-stained blade, swerving past it before sinking his fist into the man's gut.

He was beginning to see it: the perfect unison of his assassin-class stats and the martial arts usages. With the swiftness and precision he had naturally as an assassin, it made the execution of even basic techniques smooth.

"Gah-!!"

The hooded man spit out, but quickly lunged towards him again, this time using a skill that he wasn't familiar with.

"He-he-he…" The man laughed, "Eyes open. Cast: Shadow Sink."

As if the dark flooring had become liquid, the man sank into its depths while cackling.

"Into the floor…? What kind of skill is that?!" He asked himself.

He looked at the ground, stepping back as he became wary of the peculiar spell, watching the floor carefully. Below the soles of his boots, the floor vibrated with a daunting hum, forcing him to stay on his toes.

What kind of spell is this–? I don't think I've seen that in my skill tree…! He thought.

As he kept circling around to try and pinpoint the man, his ankle was suddenly grabbed, squeezed tightly as the laughter returned.

From a rippling puddle of darkness in the ground, the cross-scarred man revealed himself with a smile, holding onto his ankle with his bony, bandaged hands.

"...Got you…"

He froze for a moment at the foreign situation, looking down at the man who was halfway sticking out of the rippling ground.

It was only once he saw the crazed man's other hand protrude from the shadowy ground did he come to his senses, but it was too late–SQUELCH.

"Ngh…!"

Straight into his calf, the saw-like blade stabbed into his flesh, piercing it as he felt the man's ruthless grip tug at his muscle.

[Health Points: -400. Remaining Health Points: 1100/2250]

Using a [Blink Step] to get away, he was unable to: the blade being stuck in his leg prevented him from using it.

"Ge-he-he-he…Repent, sinner…"

The man taunted him, staying halfway sunk into the enigmatic shadows of the steel floor as he twisted the blade in his calf.

[Health Points: -10]

Each twist reeled an audible release of agony from his lips.

[Health Points: -10]

It was felt in his leg, tearing at his flesh with utmost animosity.

[Health Points: -10]

With every turn, he was left helpless, stunned by the pain that flooded his leg.

[Health Points: -10]

The cackling laughter from the man with the cross-shaped scar on his face filled his mind as he attempted to regain control over his body.

What's this…?! He questioned.

[Health Points: -10]

Beginning to brute force the movements of his body, fighting against some unknown force infiltrating his muscles, he still felt the man twirling and twisting the blade mercilessly into his right calf.

[Health Points: -10. Remaining Health Points: 1040/2250]

He finally managed to kick the man away, hitting his nose as he freed his leg from the knife–though as it pulled out, he let out a yell before [Blink Stepping] away. As soon as he used the instantaneous movement to create some distance, he fell to the ground as his leg gave out beneath him.

"Shit…!" He muttered to himself, gritting his teeth.

It was then he began to realize what was happening to his body as he watched the cloaked man crawl out from the abyssal dimension of the floor, bringing his tongue out as he displayed the slick substance on his jagged blade.

"Poison…?" He asked in a winced mutter.

The lanky, bandage-wrapped man laughed with his hoarse voice, "You're an assassin-class, too, aren't you? Yet…you don't seem very proficient in killing. Not. Like. Me."

"--"

He kept quiet, focusing on picking himself up as blood seeped from the gash on the back of his calf, feeling the warmth coalesce at his wound as his mind was racing so vigorously that he hardly registered pain.

"I've killed so, so, so many," the scar-faced man spoke, bringing himself to his feet as he began to slowly walk towards the injured player, "All in the name of keeping paradise pure. It's a noble effort. I will be thanked for my efforts by God himself–I will be praised, and I will be granted utopia."

"--"

He continued to ignore the maddened, sanity-loose rambles of the man, listening to the repetitive sound of his own blood pouring from his various wounds, and the poison dripping from his attacker's blade.

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2.]

[Health: -2…]

–As he bled, his life continued to drop, pressing him with a bubbling, inescapable anxiety as he had a numerical value put on his very life. The interface continuously showed such information, and it didn't seem to slow down.

…What do I do? It's hard to even move–is this really it for me? He thought.