The Hunger

In terms of raw speed, Hugo did not impress. If it came down to a race, Paul would have beaten him by a decent margin. Rather, it was his skill that stood out. The way he ran, it was reminiscent of parkour, paying close attention to his centre of gravity and his environment. Flicking his head left and right, subtle yet effective.

"Over here!" Hugo announced. Garnering the attention he wanted, he grinned and cocked a fist back.

Dasha's vision went white. 'I can't see—!'

His arms instinctively went over to his eyes, covering them. The next he knew, Hugo had completely obliterated the Rakshasa. Hugo landed a second strike and another dazzling light came over.

"W-what the hell is going on!?" Jack screamed through the light. He was closer and therefore hit harder from the overbearing light. Everybody had seemingly stopped fighting and waited for another strike, another dazzling display of destruction.

And it happened. Dasha could hear a grunt and the illusionary Rakshasas dissipated, one by one. A systematic dismantling of them with zero resistance.

"These things aren't that tough!"

Hugo's exclamation was met with complaint. Specifically from the loudmouths, Jack and Sylvia.

"Turn that shit off!"

"Agreed! My aim is shit!"

Sylvia's plight did not impress Jack and he shouted louder, "It's always shit!"

Hugo's reply came after an even larger light. "Sorry, no can do. Just sit tight and wait for me to end this!"

Dasha still couldn't see. His punches created such a light that he had no choice but to shut his eyes. It disoriented allies and enemies alike, and absurdly useful.

'I knew there was something different about him. He's using holy magic but on a completely different level.'

Light so bright that he would be forced to rely on Qi Sense. Dasha nudged forward, narrowing his Qi Sense waves toward a single target and then following and predicting. This way, he was able to capture Hugo's movements.

With a swift pivot, Hugo struck the nearest monster with a radiant, shimmering punch. The light-elemental attack erupted upon impact, engulfing the creature in a dazzling display of energy. The monster let out a harrowing shriek and crumpled to the ground, vanquished.

Hugo hopped between the Rakshasas with astounding balance, each punch like a beam of pure light. But he sensed a deeper concentration not in his fists, but his earrings. Those earrings were causing this light, amplifying his attacks.

The final Rakshasa, the illusionist behind the assault, remained. He couldn't move, too shocked by the absurd light, while Hugo could see and act.

He delivered a series of spectacular blows and illuminated the battlefield.

The light was so bright that it felt like darkness fell over them. The final Rakasha, named Vikramar and an astounding level 22, died at his hands.

The Templar Knights, Paul, and Jack were too bewildered to speak. In a minute of carnage, he managed to do what they couldn't.

"Sorry," Hugo said, watching Vikramar dissipate. "I don't like violence but you were hurting these people. I hope you go to a better place."

'He didn't even need to target the red Rakshasa,' Dasha thought. 'He obliterated the illusions before they could recover.'

[ Congratulations! Gate 6 : Doon Valley

Main Objective: The village is being attacked by Rakshasas! Protect the village! — Complete!

Receive:

25,000 XP

5,000 PP ]

[ Congratulations! You are the first group to complete the Gate 2 Main Objective! ]

[ Bonus Receive:

20,000 XP

15,000 PP ]

"Ooh, nice," Hugo said to himself. He twisted his torso and gestured to them. "That was the mini boss, people. We're safe."

Dasha's arms returned to his chest. 'That couldn't be it. Where is the main boss? Where is the special or hidden objective? There—'

His thoughts were interjected as a blue screen written in red text came to the forefront.

[ Scenario ended! ]

[ Returning to the White Abyss! ]

'Wait, what—?'

In the blink of an eye, he returned to the front of the Heavenly Tower. Outside, with his fellow players, as they looked at each other in bemused disbelief.

The silence was broken by Hugo. "Well…that was easy."

***

Meditation. Meditation quelled his agitation.

Groans and mewls escaped from the half-fallen corpse in front of him. The chevron patterned floor was spilled with blood.

His eyes broke open and a shine appeared in the dark pupils. Meditation helped him, as did beating the life out of Paul.

"I hate you. I hate you so, so much. I hope you die, you psychopath."

Such aggression, such hate. Paul was growing. The feeble conviction he held was taking root into something deeper.

"One day, you want to kill people, the next day you want to save them, and now you want someone dead." Dasha stared at him, unfazed. "What a contradiction you are, Paul."

Shakily, he pulled himself up. His legs refused to obey and he fell on his rear, gritting his teeth. "You never even asked me why I wanted that bastard Alex killed."

"I don't need to," Dasha replied.

Paul spat out a chunk of blood. "Why do you treat people like this? I don't get it! You…you shouldn't be like this!"

"Why not?"

No answer. Dasha observed his feeble efforts to gather strength.

"How about I tell you a story, Paul. A common story, really. There was once a young man who went to college, realized it was too hard for him, and thought it would be better to just waste his life as a driver. Because…why not?"

He repeated those words and this time received an answer: pure, unadulterated rage.

Dasha continued, "He was alone and it seemed fun. The man never married, never had a family, and as the years passed, he felt his life slipping away. The long hours on the road had left him isolated and disengaged from the world around him. Then one day, his route had become his prison, and the thought of breaking free was terrifying."

"Shut up…"

"He had a successful older brother and a successful father, and they hated him because the driver was such a failure compared to them. Oh, wait, but did they hate him? Or did he hate them? Was he just going crazy?" His looming eyes stared down at him. "Or…perhaps, maybe…he killed someone because he was a—"

"I said shut up!"

Mana burst from his pores and he sprinted at him. He intercepted his face and slammed back into the floor. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to fight back.

"Want to hear another story?"

Paul couldn't breath from how tight he was holding him down. Like a dog, he tried to bite him but failed.

"There was a boy and his tutor. A college woman touted as a genius, who thought she could relate to the little boy. She helped him free of charge. She answered all his questions, no matter how menial. But the boy knew the truth, she was a loser. Someone incapable of talking to people. So the boy gave her what she wanted. He slept with her. Loved her. And by the time he attended university, she was already the vice chairman of her department and he became her favourite. In her eyes, the boy could do no wrong. Except, in her hubris and love, she did not realize that he was no boy. He was a man with ambitions and power." Dasha stood up, still holding his skull, and threw him away like trash. He rolled without stopping for a lengthy seven metres. "So what's the moral of this story? This world is an ocean, and you either sink or swim."

Dasha went over to him and prodded his face with his foot. "Will you sink? Or swim?"

"I'm going to swim and kill you!"

"Is that really what you want? You seek power, don't you? You go against me and you die. You know that."

Facing the sky, Paul growled. "Piss off! I don't care about your offer."

"Then tell me, why did you try and save that woman, Kora?"

Paul himself likely didn't realize how obviously his eye wandered to the tattooed woman. How he longed for her presence to turn to him and to give him a tinge of the kindness she extended to others. The man was touch-starved. Pathetic.

And he knew it.

"It's nothing like that. It's just…I saw the way she helped those people. She was a genuinely good person. She didn't deserve to die."

"So some people do deserve to die, like Alex and me."

"Yes." A pause. "No. I don't know. I wasn't…in my right mind."

"What half-hearted resolve. That is why you will always drown." Dasha stepped on his ribs and pressed on them. "The fact that you thought you were a serial killer is pathetic."

"Nghhh!" Paul muffled his voice and protected his dignity. In the end, however, he broke and he let out a scream. "Shut up! You don't know me! You don't know me at all!"

"Don't I? No, rather, does it matter? I know you know it doesn't, Paul. You're a piece of shit, that's the end of it. And I'm going to use you how I like." His foot went deeper and Paul gasped in pain. If he wanted to, he could have broken his ribcage in its entirety. "You didn't have the hunger to grab your desires in the previous world. Don't make that same mistake again. Sink or swim, Paul. Sink or swim."