CH 4- You are not your skin

Life is a compulsion.

[ A boy hangs from a coat hanger, it's body leaning to one side. A thick stench invades you.]

You can choose to exist in its madness—

[ You watched it die.]

— or wait until the day yours end.

[ You have gained experience.]

I remembered thinking along those lines as I observed many stories over my life as a 7 year No-Life shut in.

[ You have gained experience.]

And for every time I thought about it, my heart only grew cold inside to the reality that I would always be disappointed in the stories I find.

There had to always be one thing inside a fan-fiction which made me sometimes ponder that maybe it was a good thing, god or what-ever entity that allowed us to live as people, allowed us to die too.

People had this intelligent way in projecting rotten realities onto others.

The things I found in stories sometimes took away my good soul and sympathy for some human beings.

The motives of the writers and their sad perspectives of life, to someone who had not lived or had almost forgotten most of his life, these cheap experiences rotted my mind and my perception of reality outside this cage.

The stories I read were always lifeless interactions of spilling blood and the character always reacting or perpetrating atrocities to reach a desirable goal.

Something about a plotted story-line felt similar to finding a crushed bird on the side of road with it's eyes empty and ants crawling in out of it's body.

The stench that came from it will force you to hold your breath until you were far from it, regardless of whether it existed there yesterday or the day after.

It was the same experience of going into a new story for me.

I always expected something to put me off.

Unfortunately the world of fan fiction was polluted with system notifications that took up 59 percent of the chapters or an insert whoring out their existence while fishing for the attention of a whore.

How did they magically appear at the right location and timings of the main plot with 100 percent accuracy?

Who knows. Stalkers have their ways of taking things too far and I a lustful and impatient no lifer have read thousands upon thousands of these poisons.

Bored with the grind, bored with the system and power ups and sick of the whores who spread their dirty pussies for the self inserted bastards who detail their emotionless sexless life.

It did not matter how well written or how devilishly plotted a story was, When you are mentally retarded and believe you are In a living hell.

In the end they were just things to fuck off too.

Like what my arch enemies on NTR forums say.

Fuck off and do not invest.

After reading through thousands of fan-fiction you develop an empty feeling that makes you imagine it being in your chest, the very same feeling you ache from when a family member you love or a person you are fond of dies.

I felt the same heart ache after reading Solo Leveling too.

[ Jin-woo has killed-]

[ Jin-woo has killed-]

[ Jin-woo— ]

Facing monsters and outer dimensional monsters just wasn't enough for me and the romance in Solo Leveling was unappealing to my tastes.

Jin-woo a boy who became this powerful entity, he surely had a preference for choosing to be a disable, but I was like that too.

' You bastard! How could you be surrounded by all these beautiful woman and ignore them!'

My mind and the words that came out of my loose lips, I could say that we were both two different people.

' Wtf is this romance… she sniffed him and fell in love?'

' Fuck you Author! A happy ending? You only decided to show us on the last chapter that he married her and have a kid! Die!'

' Fighting and Fighting and Fighting and all these useless dialogue. Fuck Jin-woo, stop being a good guy and just…'

I may not have liked the boy who had survived the dungeon, but I hoped that maybe someone like him, could…

Be a little more selfish—-

Stop the meaningless fighting.

' You fucking bastard-monarchs I will kill you all!'

—-And live a little more.

I believed he had that kind of power, but as I had said before.

Something about a plotted story-line felt similar to finding a crushed bird.

' Save the world, and restart everything you had lived.'

[ You have broken your lap-top.]

'…. Fuck!'

' What's the point of watching you-'

' Fuck!'

' He used the cup of reincarnation to start over.'

'- I fucking hate my life, Jin you asexual idiot, You wanted to start over for what? To keep the monarchs out? And of course you will not kill those NTR bastards who are poisoning millions of people like me.'

' I should have stopped after he received the system…'

'…'

' So is life, you will ways find disappointment by things you can't control…'

' And if I was in another life…'

' Shit, that wouldn't be good.'

' No… No… not good at all.'

After 20 years of living as a person, and wasting 7 of those precious years as a no-life.

Words that entertained me and managed to evoke images of thrilling adventures in my mind, sadly they became just things I glanced over without reading.

Unfortunately, life will always be ruthless to a No-Life.

I had come to terms that I was someone who could no longer live a normal life anymore.

[ A group of armed men have stormed in the southern district of a mall in **** street, during the robbery, while police returned fire, 7 people have been confirmed dead and more are still believed to be held hostage by the group.]

' Wtf… That's just down the road… Holy shit… Now! this is better than Solo Leveling.'

[ You have turned off the radio.]

I defaulted into stories as it was the only better way of suicide I could think of and the worst option for myself was to go outside and be apart of the people who always seemed to live with an empty wallet, and if not that, then I would most likely become something another person would have to clean up after I die.

As much as I considered myself to be a disease.

I had a compulsion to wake up at 2 am in the morning, and check Pebnovul.com and mindlessly scroll through the list of stories I could not stand reading.

The pictures of dirty whores who seem to belong to a ntr story attracted me more than the titles or description on the fan-fiction category.

I did not give anything a chance, the hotter the girl looked, the faster I clicked.

You develop a 6th sense of what is good and what is not after years of mindlessly reading inexperienced wish fulfillments or in kinder terms.

Trash.

The ideology " Do not judge a book by it's cover." Stemmed from the defeatist mindsets of people who have regretted or suffered a bad end from a bad experience in their lives.

I was not one of them. I judged all stories by their presentation, because here in this hell hole of a site.

You would not find a shining diamond, just a better distraction, you'd come to forget soon after, until that euphoria begins to fade.

You can't expect someone else to write the story you want to read.

And to make up for my own inexperience, I just turned off my logical side of my mind and depending on how terrible it gets, I'd hoped that these people one day died faster than I did, but that would be a sad wish.

Fan-fictions were kind of like the legal drug you recommended to people who you could cheaply call friends, not family.

Sometimes they were always bland and tasteless, there were many categories you can choose from, stories of fulfillments, stories of psychopaths, stories of rotten morality that could turn you rotten if you let it.

I found the comment sections of Pebnovul to be more addicting than swimming through wish fulfillments.

Sometimes the fights I see people go through on their forums made me feel more alive than the projected desires of someone writing about his proxy fucking a lot of wet pussy and better than the 10 chapters of an anticipated boss battle with an oc who is high from OP.

But that was life of a Peb addict. You just read things whether it was bad or good.

Your opinions did not matter.

Your functioning mind stimulates of the good shit and filters the bad until you feel ill by the knowledge of some poor son of a bitch who spent hours writing those words down, he could either be masturbating off the comment of someone cheering for his wasted hours or suffocating by the ranting of a toxic man who ruthlessly shouts at them with words, unfeeling to their struggles and situation.

The toxic man keeps letting out more word count and quality content than the chapters these poor son of a bitches release with every chapter.

It was glorious to see a toxic man once in awhile, in the sense where you can commit murder through just words, but in the end, such foolish actions only caused the discontinuation of some good people leaving the platform.

And most of the time we needed those good drugs.

Unfortunately, fan fiction was an addiction a No-Life could never satisfy or permanently rid off.

I continued to waste a lot of youth in that bleak life style for a very long time and as a toxic man on PebNovul.

I'm not to sure if I could have been murdered for talking shit on a fan-fiction, but often I did think that it could be possible.

It can become possible, depending on how sick someone had to be to get so angry over words.

It did not matter if someone desired my life, I could learn to be more psychopathic than a fat whale who could purchase a weapon from America.

I just needed a little rod to gut that fish and even when I did die, apart of me wouldn't mind it.

I'll feel more annoyed at how things reached that point and I'd hate to be locked in a cell for writing more than the author.

Some would believe being sent to jail is a victory, but that's only the perspective of a dumb son of a bitch who'd believe being locked up in jail made up for all the terrible things that person has done.

Effective, but still dumb when you think off it.

It might just be the inexperience of a person who has never been confronted before, to think ' Catch the bad guy and it's a good ending.'

Well that depends on the crime. Consulting with a NTR artist about happy endings is like delivering fresh fish to him and given back a boiled alien fish in return.

Just because you won't see them again, does not mean they would feel it's enough to stop.

Like fanfiction, someone out there is addicted to crime, like others are addicted to inflicting harm and hate.

Not everything makes a happy ending, you can choose to ignore something and believe that just the mention of a person paying for their actions behind a cell could be a satisfying ending.

It might be true but the only way to make the best ending, is by taking that persons life so they could never have the option to do it again.

I could do it if I were in another life, because I would have the IQ of -50.

Consequences was a cheap bitch.

An SSSS grade dungeon with threats surrounding you, for someone who loved and hated stories reality was a piece of shit a No-Life needed to stay the fuck away from.

Instead of being slaughtered by a drugged up MC.

I found the law to be more terrifying as it loved to fuck with your life and never let you get away, Courts, and probations that can extend over your life and into your retirement age. It was fucking hell to live.

Maybe that's why I enjoyed fan-fictions more than life, even if it was shit.

Maybe that's why I always enjoyed isekais and another world stories, although some were hard to read. I'd just make up for it with my imagination and entertain myself, by asking questions.

Why do people from my life choose to be there?

- Woman, or wanting to be the main characters, but I swear to god it's for the western and eastern whores, or just jealously for their pathetic virgin life, but adult-hood would fix them eventually, maybe not.

Why do we choose to exist there?

- A distraction, everyone has their own reasons for wanting to live in another life. If I had disability I'd fuck with the idea, but it always came to whores in the end, because I'm a twisted fuck.

What's the point of all these stories?

- I don't fucking know go out and ask them instead of leaving shit on their stories.

Do I enjoy reading it?

- Do you enjoy smelling shit?

Would I enjoy living inside of it?

- Would you enjoy being alone with 0 social skill and being homeless unless you were a stalker and prepared your life before entering the fucking story, then I recommend to not give up your own life and comfort, just to be thrilled by the thought of jumping in front of a bus to meet a whore god who has simpthy for your intentions to go on a little journey and fuck your waifus.

What could be so interesting for someone who was like me to be in a place this?

I would say nothing. Like a good Samaritan it is better to have walk-throughs in your life before you go on and start living it.

And for someone like me who has died more than the average protagonists of those shit stories I read.

I can honestly tell you with all my heart.

Please don't fucking kill yourself to be inside of a fan-fiction.

Write your own shit and not jump ship for a story written by someone else. It will save you a lot of stress and you can write yourself an abandon house with a little maid and a little dog, and code the [ Infinitely loyal to dead-man.] And after adding the restriction code and advocating prejudice and discrimination to all outsiders who have not died in your story.

You will be eternally blessed for being the only son of a bitch who has died in your world with a lovely maid, and a annoying dog in your little home in the woods somewhere.

I believe something like that was far better than reliving in the world of Solo-Leveling.

I began to see why most of the authors always dropped their stories, I too could lose my mind in this.

. . .

[ You have transferred.]

The things I find odd about my transfers were the thoughts that locked me up from living a life others could have lived in my place.

A new life seemed foreign and alien. I could imagine something similar, but to live there with my memories and my condition. I wouldn't know if it were possible.

A No-Life was more than just a shut in.

We were indifferent to humanity as a whole.

When I was a No-Life.

I never saw my lack of connection with people as something to be replaced. No man or god could move me to the point I would risk my own safety and comfort for something that could always be out my control.

In fact the very thought that others who would risk and lose it all just to live a different life are people who were thrill seeking or someone who needed that miracle.

I could sympathize.

There was also a time where I wanted to live a little more, but those days were just a memory.

[ You have lived this life path: 03 ]

[ New additions have been added to your modification system.]

~+~

[ ] Al

[ LP: 8000 ]

[ BAL: -000 ]

[ Rank: E ]

[ Sacrificial Devil: Fated to perish wretchedly ]

> Sacrificial Devils Passive: Sever souls to convert them into Black Souls.

> [ Hidden effect- Alter Reality: The ability to alter reality in your image, but the sacrifice is expensive.] [ Imitated ability: The Seal Of Orichalcos.]

[ Millennial Item: Fragment Of The Fading Light.]

> [ Passive Effect- Phantom Memory. The ability to evoke faded memories into holographic projections, but fades faster as time passes.]

> [ Altered Effect- I don't want to destroy life. Phantoms are influenced by the choices you make. They will seek out and alter imperfections.]

[ + 4 Black Souls ]

I covered up my sweaty palms as the atmosphere began to resemble an alarm clocked into my memory.

The hunters or blood drips quartered up in the middle of the room, before the cruel lord.

I brushed away the system the moment the reflection of the previous scene began to resume.

I saw a slight flicker from the cruel lords eye.

Apart of my mind felt hollow because the memories of hunters being killed in front of me through out these past lives. They might have not experienced it yet, but I live with them in those terrible bad ends as a suicidal canon fodder.

If there were any cruel lord in this world, then it was certainly not the stone figure sitting aloof waiting to enact a red ritual that could wipe us out.

I was sure the real devil was the very twisted being who always made me remember how they died.

And the best medicine to fix that was surely the comfort of a beautiful woman by my side, but she was far away with the others.

I followed my sense to where she could be, Miss Healer looked oblivious to the Genocide that could happen in any second and of course she was right by his side.

Jin-woo with the hunters surrounded the statue holding onto the stone tablet. I thought it was far too late to consider any one of them to be alive, but I was the only one who had yet to move away from the door and I believed It was far too late for me to return alive.

[ Do not move.]

[ You will die.]

On my left stood the gate to the outside world, and in front of me.

A weapon of mass destruction. I could feel another from behind and so I just stood in place without shifting or moving.

It was intense to stand alone as I did not really want to die yet and this feeling of standing in place made me uncomfortable.

I heard a loud commotion from the hunters.

I could not hear the words, but someone shouted about leaving this place. I thought it was just out of ignorance that he believed he had a choice to make such a decision, but only I knew we had no freedom in this place.

One of them started approaching me.

A tall man, A really tall man who was built like a jacked gorilla in a white jacket and white trousers, like a buffed panda.

I thought I could try and remember who he was, but like the rest of hunters, I did not bother to remember the faces of people who never made it past the double-dungeon.

"…" We looked at each-other.

I tried to smile, but this person only gave of a negative energy and it did not help when he just might set off a death signal and awaken these statues. It was an uneasy feeling when I slowly began to remember why he was here.

" Is there something wrong?" I asked him.

" Move aside."

" Move aside?"

I thought about it, but the image of the statue chopping off a head evoked the memory of some people I did not pay attention to before.

He was one of them.

" Oh…" I looked at the gate.

He did not know it, but I felt like he wanted to kill the both of us.

" Well, that will be quite a heavy request." I laugh it off, but he rudely glared at me as if I was the bastard who murdered his dog.

" Get out of my way." He growled impatiently.

" N-no." I said. I glared back with the same intent to match his presence. It was sickening of how annoying people could be if they really got up in your face and I was not someone who was very good at physical confrontations.

So I shut my mouth when I heard that stutter.

I knew I was a good speaker, but there was a difference between writing and speaking, I was more experienced with writing, but when speaking words.

It was very easy to lose in that kind of battle.

I needed a character, an image, and a good environment. I glared at the panda as I remembered hearing that stutter and I felt angry that he did not know what he was asking could kill the both of us.

I raised a hand over my eyes and spoke cautiously about the words I wanted to say, but trying to control my voice was a bit difficult.

" Would you like to make a deal with a Devil?" I wanted to really shatter my index finger after I said it.

Something about the words I chose caught his complete attention. He only looked at me in silence and I felt compelled to speak more, talk more, project more…

This was the euphoria of being something you could never be. So I let everything slip and I spouted nonsense using my memories of this world and my world together into an image of someone who could help this clueless idiot see the way of a good life.

" You want to go? " I shook my head in retaliation to his ideal.

" You would need to kill everyone in this room to go. " It was an empty threat. A threat made up of my memories and reality of how things were meant to be in this place, but I opted for some made up fan-fiction story I could not remember.

The contents inside of that story was just the death of every life in the world being sacrificed to something... It really chilled my bones reading that specific part.

That's when something moved right next to us. My eyes caught the way the statues weapon left a mark from a place it was supposed to be and I looked up to it and then to the hunter who was already in a flight or fight mode.

I just glared at the both of them.

I ignored what just happened and continued speaking.

As I saw him in fear. I imagined something different with an empty feeling, I imagined a false personification of what I assumed a Devil would do if it or he was in my position now.

I thought about my time in this world. The lives I could have lived.

My meaningless deaths and paralyzed life choices.

As I thought about all the foolish actions I've committed. My mind could only ever remember those words that showed when I read through the system contents.

Those empty words hidden underneath, Sacrificial Devil.

[ Fated To Perish Wretchedly.]

It vexed me more than anything to think that the reason for these suicidal actions could stem from a title.

I felt the repeating deaths and the callous decisions to act immune to consequences was because of it and it disgusted me that such a title with the term Devil was just me dying aimlessly.

So, I thought It would be better to try something different this time.

A Devil… I wondered what such a thing would be like if I just forgot myself and played a role.

Like a mask. I decided to paint a different picture of myself.

I called out to him.

" Relax." I looked up to the statue.

" It's nothing more than a reaction. It happens with old rocks in dungeons." I reached out my index finger.

" Hey, At least it hasn't chopped off our heads right?" And so I began to laugh holding onto my stomach and he chuckled with those crazed eyes.

" Ahahha—" Poor man. Laughing, but on the verge of losing his mind.

I didn't think of him to be foolish, but I wasn't sure if he understood the reason why I had not moved from this place or why he did not run like those mob-less blood drips who show up on trash dungeon stories just to prove a point, just to prove a grim reality.

All I could think off was that he was someone who valued life more than I did.

I offered out my hand to his fear.

" You don't need to worry so much."

" Relax, It just moved right?" I tried to keep myself away from exposing his fragile condition.

" We just need to think of something good and the feeling will just fade..."

I placed my hand on my chest.

" Tell me friend, Do I look afraid to you?" His breathing slowed and the man closed his eyes and tried to compose himself.

" Good." I looked up to the statue. I felt the momentum and wanted to push forward my own ideals into this person.

[ A hunter listens to your devilish words.]

And the moment system notification appeared it felt like a switched was turned on and all the toxins of a drug called Luciferium just washed over me.

[ Paint a picture of what you wished you looked like.]

A dark and empty feeling took over. I wasn't sure what it was, but upon reading those words.

Something wanted me to just let go.

"I like that about humans." I noted the way he was so quick to listen to me.

" I like when you show what I want." I noted how he showed me something without me having to wait for it happen.

" That tells me you show respect." I pretended to feel honored about it, but I drew my finger and pointed to him.

" I like that."

I raised out my hands.

" Let's forget about the big man for a moment and the other guy too." I pointed behind me.

" Forget about escaping." I tried to lure him into something. I didn't know what it was, but my mind was just working.

" We are alone right now." Those words terrified me, because I wished I had not seen the look on his face.

In one moment. He ignored everything around as I said.

It caught me by surprise, but I kept talking and so I started my next words about a dream.

" I had a dream…"

A dream where everyone suffocated underneath their bloods, all piled up with their blood leaking to one side of the room.

I had a dream that only a few people had made it out alive and they continued to exist as if everyone who died meant nothing to them.

I told him of a dream where they were forgotten and all life will die, I told him of my dream of him being forgotten, because something more terrifying than what he died happened in this future he was no longer apart of.

I told him many things about this worlds future and I told him how Seoul was set on fire and every person who was not a hunter.

Perished Wretchedly because of it and he stood there in silence just looking down at me.

"You are spouting… Nonsense!" He roared.

I wiped off the spit that clung onto my face and flicked it to the floor and cleaning my hands I politely answered his confusion.

I waited in silence watching his unusual tantrum.

" Yes— That is true." I mused and thought about his words and thought about the dream.

This was a dream.

" Dreams have no meaning." I looked to the floor where I imagined a dead man who was split right through the middle and a little boy who found himself locked inside of a dream, and that little boy who kept dying at the thought of it.

I thought about it. He may have seen what I saw. I just felt it the moment his eyes lingered for too long on the floor.

I was sure off it.

" You freak! Stop—" He must have seen it too.

" Fooling around?" I assumed his final words. I was feeling an intense disgust in my mind and I could not look away. I felt malice for the tall man.

" We don't have such freedoms." There was a dark presence leaking from my chest as I began to understand that I was completely offended by those empty words of his.

He was nothing more than a dream.

[ Your heart, Your mind has been altered.]

[ Sacrificial Devil has manifested.]

[ You have received an ability.]

[ Tragedian, When you project yourself as the Sacrificial Devil. Your words can't be negated.]

I looked down to the floor and felt my mind go through a twisted change.

In some strange ways the bodies of the people suddenly faded from the floors. I heard foot steps approaching and the knocks on the floor as something was being dragged behind me.

I payed attention to the sounds, but the terror in his eyes as I pulled my hand away. It frightened me to see someone who was there, but you can just tell by the unfocused gaze that his mind was enthralled by something truly terrifying.

Something that made you curious about, but never wanted to see.

I was not in his focus, but he was in mine.

His eyes wide open with his teeth clattering and he shook.

" Please… stop it…"

" Don't hurt them…."

" She didn't do it."

" Please…. I will do anything you say…" He dropped on his knees and I just stared as someone as large as a gorilla was pleading for me to spare someone who did not exist in this place.

" Please!!!"

I looked behind me. There was nothing. But the statue and him then I looked to the other direction, nothing was insight.

I could not see it, but I heard what he saw, that strange sound of someone walking in water, but I pictured it as blood and that feeling of your mind losing sanity.

In just one moment I could no longer see the hunter there in front of me.

But something living had replaced him, something alive, without a face, something stripped off all its skin with knife wounds carved in many different places over exposed muscles.

He kneeled in pain looking at me unaware of the blood forming underneath him.

I pretended that I could not see it as I looked in his eyes.

I heard the screams of children fading behind me.

" Please… stop…." He pleaded.

' Please stop hurting him! Please!'

I gripped my heart as I could feel an ounce of his pain.

" What do you see?" I asked.

He did not answer.

I could only assume that everything he saw was related to the system so I did not say anything.

I continued acting out the skin I wore.

" What-ever you see will happen." I told him.

Words showed in my mind and I recited it all even if it went against my conscience, I drowned out my voice above the scream of someone roared pain.

I looked at him as the sound distorted into voices of ghostly screams and shouts that came from a place of extreme pain.

His eyes and his energy made me feel as if they were siphoned from him. He was so focused in staring at something that wasn't me.

He reached out as I saw his hand and his head hanging lowly.

Then a child screamed, but something loud cut of her voice and she whimpered. Since It was close I thought something choked it after cutting her screams off.

I heard something fall to the ground.

Like the sound of marble rolling over a wooden floor.

I followed it.

His eyes looked down to my feet as if something rolled there and then reached him.

I watched as those bleedings hands of his reached out to hold air.

Unable to speak any words. He retreated those hands and covered his face.

"…" I could not see what he saw, but something in my mind made up for the lack of vision.

" She was someone special to you, wasn't she?" Those cruel words only made him tremble with a dark laughter escaping him.

" Shut up—" His eyes were that of someone who could not see me anymore.

" I said shut up!" He roared to his side.

I felt the presence of another person being pulled in the same spot she was just before.

I raised out my hand to stop it.

Tears of blood spilled from his disfigured face.

I looked down to the floor near his feet. I saw a pale face with hair wrapped around it.

" If I hadn't met you! If I never met you!" He roared and started to recite things I did not understand.

Things of being outside this dungeon.

Things of following a plan.

He was speaking as if he were not in this place, but somewhere outside and then he began to realize what he had said.

" I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Without hesitation. He ruthlessly crushed his head into the floor.

" It's just a dream." I replied to his violence.

I raised a hand to my heart.

" It's just an Illusion." This dream was becoming a little to much for someone like me to bear. I could feel if he continued.

He may kill himself by madness.

I thought pretending to play Devil who offered people gifts and abilities in exchange for something in return like his soul was an ideal way of killing time.

This was just an ugly scene that killed it really quickly.

I was too busy keeping my distance from him that making any sudden movements would just change something in me.

I could hear voices from the other side, but I chose to ignore it.

" An illusion...?" He sounded confused.

" You used magic… on me?" I did not know how I could respond to it. I did do something, but I wasn't sure if it was magic.

" You mages and all your terrible lies…." He pulled himself up weakly unable to stand straight without falling to one side.

" Please stop." I repeated his words. He refused to stop standing. The blood on the floor was already strong enough to reach the tip of my boots.

" I will kill you! I will kill you—"

"…"

I raised my hand and a woman screamed behind me. I could not understand her distorted words, but I felt her presence slowly being pushed by my side.

I thought of a different way of dying, something that could make a mad man pause forget his madness.

I gripped my fist tight and lowered it.

I imagined myself to have been in that place that drove him mad, and I hung her by the neck with something strong and invisible men pushed her forward.

I started pulling onto something, a rope that will take her higher and higher to a place I could no longer see.

I ignored her physical traumas and suffocation as she went up, it was to the point where I felt the pressure from the rope suddenly snap in two.

His eyes followed it.

The quick shadow falling down and then crushing into the floor, her body was not find and her neck seemed to be missing something important.

I imagined what it was like to stand facing the execution of something or someone you loved.

If I were in his shoes. I wonder if I would be able to do it.

To remain sane enough to see it all happen.

He was stronger more stronger than I could ever be.

"…" He lowered his head without a sound.

" I'm sorry."

" I really am sorry for all of it." Apart me wanted to spare him from the cruelty, but my heart did not feel like the words I had said. I could not feel it, for what I had done, even if it was just a dream or an illusion.

The reactions he showed it was far too much.

A Devil was a being who brought absolute chaos or change.

I felt exhausted by it and it pained my heart to understand how much I lacked in being this presumed Devil I had no knowledge off.

I did not have it in me to play the role effectively. I wasn't callous enough, I was not experienced enough and I was not born or used to wickedness.

[ Fated To Perish Wretchedly.]

Regardless of my emotions and feelings.

This will all be a memory to them and I will be among the corpse who will be buried soon.

[ You have learned a new life path.]

[ You have gained experience.]

I turned around and faced the large gate.

' Al why are you so interested in Devils?'

'…'

' I saw it in your browsing history again.'

'… Oh shit!'

' Al…'

' I-I just, I'm curious okay!'

' There is nothing wrong with exploring things on your own.'

' And I have to know things or I will go crazy!'

'…'

' Don't you think it's strange?'

' Why do people think they are so important?'

' What do you mean…?'

' There is always these strange people who keep going on and on about selling their

souls to a Devil or a Spirit of Negation.'

' But I can't ever see someone as powerful as that ever paying attention to people like them, they are just humans!'

' Just. Humans.'

' Al…'

' Not only have I been ignoring your pornography and your addiction to poor writing!'

' But this is too far!'

' What? I was honest this time.'

' It's just… It really frustrates me when someone expects something to give them what they want and without anything! As if they were that special! So what if you have a soul! It means nothing!'

'…'

' It's frustrating ok. Nothing I want will ever happen and I really hate it when people make up bull-shit like this and act all nonchalant as if it was something special!'

'…'

' Sorry…'

'…'

' I spoke too much again.'

' That's okay. I love it when my brother tells me everything.'

' How else would I know anything about you when you always keep quiet in that head all day.'

' You know I love you right?—-'

'— Al?'

[ A memory has faded.]

I looked above to where I imagined something raining down on me . I brushed away the imagination from my eyes and looked down to the handle of the door.

I turned around to the man who appeared on edge to my close proximity to it and as if he couldn't stand being next to the statue.

I smiled at his small action. He no longer looked like the corpse, but his head was badly bruised.

"…" I looked down to the body and the head, things that weren't really there.

" All this, everything and everyone." I spoke loud just for him to hear my voice.

I gestured to the floor and to them as I turned my attention to the gate.

" You can think of this an illusion or a dream." I said and I looked at circle door handle.

" None of it really matters."

A dream I can't escape from no matter what I do.

It felt as if I was only able to stay here.

" Again. I'm sorry for what had happened."

" If you manage to survive all the ordeals I have told you about my dream, then this will all be just an illusion—-"

"— but if you are unable to leave this place everything you saw. I promise something far worse than killing them will not be enough—-"

I thought that the execution of imaginations were nothing compared to the real thing.

One day all the world will end on the day of the Monarchs.

So I just smiled as I tried to see someone far away from us over my shoulder.

" Regardless of your consent. You have willingly made a deal with a Sacrificial Devil."

I gestured a hand sign of peace for that contract.

" If you die your soul will be mine and everything you are will be erased from all realities, because that is my will, I'm a Devil."

I focused my attention on the door for the last time.

" If you do make it out…"

" Could you do me a favor?"

" There is a girl I really like, but she does not know who I am."

" Could you send her my regards." I know I hadn't done anything good to him, but I was a sick person who could commit harm on someone and go on to remain friendly.

So I did not really care whether he did or not, this was nothing more than a selfish projections of a suicidal man.

" I really love Miss Healer."

" Again I will apologize to you and those girls." I envied him.

" Know that I only had the best intentions in mind, One day let's meet on the other side of this gate. Mr Panda."

" And don't pay so much attention to the things you can't see in-front of you."

" So Don't give up—-"

"—-Choose life."

I placed my hand on the door handles and I just breathe in as I began to set my dream in motion.

' Al I was wondering. Why do you only read stories with—'

'—-Harem.'

' Do you mean Isekai?'

' Yeah.'

' I don't know…'

' I think it's because I hope something could happen.'

' What do you want to happen?'

'… I wish I could remember.'

' Well, Let me ask one more question.'

'…'

' If one wish could be granted and I mean any wish.'

' What would you wish for.'

' I'd wish you were able to live a better life than mine.'

' It's because I'm a cripple huh?'

' He—hee— Definitely not because you're a cripple.'

'… Al… You bastard.'

' It's because you told me you loved me.'

'…'

' I'd wish just that for you.'

'…'

' I'd wish for you to live more than I could.'

'…'

' I'm sorry for wasting both our lives—-'

'—-Sera.'

" Stop!! Don't put your hands on the handle!!" The sound of steel grinding harshly against the floor and an ominous noise of a whistle sharply increasing in volume.

I only smiled at the kind memories I had left of the last person I cared for.

[ A memory has faded.]

- YOU HAVE BEEN KILLED.

[ + You have gained a Black Soul.]

~+~

[ ] Al

[ LP: 8000 ]

[ BAL: -000 ]

[ Rank: E ]

[ Sacrificial Devil: Fated to perish wretchedly ]

> Sacrificial Devils Passive: Sever souls to convert them into Black Souls.

> [ Hidden effect- Alter Reality: The ability to alter reality in your image, but the sacrifice is expensive.] [ Imitated ability: The Seal Of Orichalcos.]

> [ Activated effect- Tragedian, When you project yourself as the Sacrificial Devil. Your words can't be negated.][ Altered Effect- As a Sacrificial devil you unconsciously project tragic endings onto life.]

[ Millennial Item: Fragment Of The Fading Light.]

> [ Passive Effect- Phantom Memory. The ability to evoke faded memories into holographic projections, but fades faster as time passes.]

> [ Altered Effect- I don't want to destroy life. Phantoms are influenced by the choices you make. They will seek out and alter imperfections.]

[ + 5 Black Souls ]