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In a World of Mythology as the Best

Mythology is Real. At least, that’s a world Illian Hale lives in. Where humans are chosen as successors to Mythological Beings, figures like Zeus, Merlin and even god-like abilities such as magic became the norm, literally. And Illian? Cursed. Framed for Murder. Enslaved. Where he expected everything to soon be going his way, reality was quick to hit him with a cold slap. But for once, something decent happened to him. [You have been chosen by Sun Wukong, The Monkey King] Great, right? Well, Illian just had one question. "What the hell is a Monkey King?"

_MYSTERY · 作品衍生
分數不夠
13 Chs

I Have Me!

A dozen police patrol cars arrived between two large buildings facing away from each other, the street filled to the brim with curious civilians as well as a news reporter.

The heavily pouring rain didn't seem to bother them as their curiosity for everything happened outweighed the cold they were feeling.

As the cars came to a stop, stepping out, one could see the red and blue lights shining on Spencer's face and lighting up the area as he walked toward the crowd, a few officers following him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's a shame that something so unfortunate is happening on a special day."

The female news anchor stood before a camera amongst countless individuals filling the street staring at a tall building. 

But more specifically, every individual currently had their eyes glued on the white-masked figure standing atop the edge of the building, staring down onto the street below with a helicopter sitting behind him.

"We are currently looking at the terrorist who claims to have hidden a dozen bombs inside the Metro Bank."

"He has yet to make any demands or even move from that position for that matter. Police still have not arrived on the scene…"

Saying this, the reporter was cut off as she noticed Spencer making his way through the crowd.

"I want this whole area evacuated. Start from the Bank outward…" 

"Captain Spencer!"

The reporter cut Spencer off, his officers scurrying off.

"Why is it that your officers arrived so late and what are you planning to do about the current situation?" She hurriedly asked, shoving the microphone closer to Spencer's lips.

Spencer simply gave an unpleasant grunt, ignoring her as he walked closer to the building, looking up as his eyes met with the masked figures.

"Spencer, it's nice of you to join us!" The figure yelled, spreading his arms, his demeanour similar to that of a showman.

This was the first time the man had spoken. Therefore, a cold silence erupted amongst the crowd as they all listened.

"I've heard what you've done, Kid. Bombs in the bank." He spoke with a straight face, seeming as though nothing around him was bothering him.

"That's right. This is a deadman's switch. If the pressure on my finger is released from this button, the bank will go up in flames…"

As the masked figure pointed toward the bank a small distance behind the crowd and brandished the cylinder detonator in his hand, he was cut off.

"You won't do shit, kid!" 

The previous fatherlike tone Spencer had used to speak to the boy disappeared, his usual authoritative tone returning as though he was speaking to a criminal.

For once, Spencer grinned as all eyes turned to him, including the boy.

"That's your thing, isn't it? You're a liar. A conman." 

Spencer's grin grew wider and wider as he continued.

"Sending my officers away to the other side of the city, deliberately setting yourself up so you could be held in my precinct."

"The only precinct with a chopper and the only precinct with an Air Force veteran to fly your helicopter and distract us while you set up this scheme in the bank. And lemme guess, you're the one who set off the false alarm at the bank at the start." 

The reporter turned to the cameraman, making sure he was capturing everything happening as she smiled.

Meanwhile, the boy was quiet, his expression unknown behind the mask as he simply stared.

"I researched the train heist case on my way here. With the information you provided, it was easy to fill in the gaps. And I've come to a conclusion." 

"You were lucky." 

A cold breeze passed as Spencer and the boy stared at each other, in their own world.

"You attempted to leave through the broken toilet, but you realised it was impossible with the train moving so fast."

"You'd die. So you left it, thinking of leaving the train once it stopped. But my officers were guarding the exits. You were trapped." 

"I'm assuming you carried the goods in something simple, like a backpack. You probably found a family to tag along with, blending in, am I right? After all, no one would suspect a child of being the thief."

Spencer stepped closer, a few officers backing him up with their hands on their weapons.

"You're arrogant and sloppy. You're a smart kid; I'll give you that much. But you're still a kid." Spencer's grin faded as he raised his hand.

"It seems Captain Spencer has the situation under control. As expected of him." 

The reporter commented, the civilians listening as they nodded in agreement.

"That remote is probably a dud, right? I'll be coming up there now. Give up, it's over."

"The best I can do is deal with you how I deal with my daughter when she misbehaves, let's flip a coin on how aggressively you want me to send you to jail…" 

"Clearly you don't know who you're talking to." 

Spencer held up a silver coin but paused as his words were cut off.

As he did, everyone present felt the chill of the sudden words, causing silence to prevail.

"To your feeble mind, it may seem like arrogance. But you see, you have yet to know." 

"I don't need a lousy Legend to choose me as their successor. I don't need to be an Inheritor. Do you know why? Because I have me." 

The boy's tone and voice slowly grew heavier and more menacingly by the second as he continued.

"Terrorists, Conman, call me what you want. This whole world…whether it be humans or Inheritors, you'll all bow at my feet and acknowledge me as the best of them all!" 

The boy was practically yelling at the top of his lungs, his tone seeming as though he was playing a sick joke that amused him.

"You called me sloppy, Spencer?! HOW'S THIS FOR SLOPPY?!"

Saying this…the boy released the switch.

-BOOM!!!

"AGH!!!"

"Someone, help!"

The bank exploded with a BOOM as its flames lit up the night sky. All those around simultaneously dropped to the floor and covered their head seeking shelter.

Meanwhile, Spencer stared at the scene behind him, his eyes wide and expression horrified as his poker face crumbled.

"Oh my god."

The reporter muttered, her professionalism no more as her natural survival instincts lagged to kick in, causing her to stare, frozen.

"Do you see now, Spencer!"

A voice screamed from all of the commotion, practically laughing hysterically.

Spencer turned his head like a rusty robot, sweating as he stared at the boy whose arms were outstretched.

"This isn't the day the new generation of Inheritors came of age! No, this is the day I was born!" 

Behind him, the helicopter began to start as the propellors slowly started to turn.

On the ground, the boy noticed the camera facing him.

"Remember this day, people. And stay tuned. Cause you ain't seen nothing yet!" 

The boy crazily cackled as he turned, bolting to the helicopter and disappearing from view.

"Sir, our forces from the forest are close. What are your orders?!" 

As most of the officers helped with the evacuation, one snapped Spencer out of his trance as the blonde-haired man gritted his teeth.

"I want that fire put out. Evacuate everyone and…" Spencer stared at the helicopter with a difficult expression.

"Should we shoot it down?" Asked the officer. However, Spencer grumbled, unsatisfactory.

'Something isn't right.' 

He thought, looking around and noticing the glint of a rusty fire escape on the side of the building.

Seeing this, his eyes lit up.

"Focus all our manpower on the evacuation. Forget about the helicopter." Declared Spencer, dashing toward an alleyway adjacent to the tall building, unholstering his firearm.

***

'That was a productive day if I do say so myself.' 

A boy with messy, wet black hair and hazel eyes stared at a departing helicopter as he turned his gaze to a simple white mask in his hand.

The rain had stopped but the ground of the alley was still filled with murky and dirty puddles.

Grinning, he tossed the mask in a nearby garbage pile.

'This whole place will be filled with cops soon, I better leave…' 

-TAP TAP TAP

Before the boy could finish his thought, he turned his head to the deeper end of the alleyway upon hearing slow footsteps.

"I've finally found you after so long." 

Stepping into the light, a figure wearing a grey robe, holding onto a wooden staff appeared, stopping before the boy.

Instinctively, the boy took a step back, his grin disappearing as he stared intently.

"You're hard to find for a child." 

Saying this, the figure removed the hood from their head, revealing long and luscious purple hair and a crescent moon shaped necklace around her neck.

'It's…a woman?' The boy noticed, staring at the female's smooth and porcelain-like skin. 

Her pink lips pursed upon staring at the boy. But most notably about her was her almost bright purple eyes that let out an ethereal glow.

Though she was beautiful, more than the boy thought was possible, he was focused on something else.

"You're an Inheritor." The boy muttered, his heartbeat quickening.

He didn't know the lady, however…

'I know that for a fact…but why do I get the feeling she isn't with the I.A.'

From her peculiar attire to the way she spoke, the boy had the impression she was searching for him before everything tonight.

'Additionally, it isn't like the I.A. to interfere in menial things like a minor terrorist attack with no casualties.'

If they were known to interfere, the boy would take longer to think of a plan, if not ditch the hopeless attempt.

"Inheritors? Do you mean Cattle? Distasteful." The female contorted her expression in disgust.

"No, I'm here for you. To simply slay whatever monster you become before that time…" 

-BANG

As she spoke, the boy suddenly reached for his side in a hurry, snatching a gun from his waist and pulling the trigger, an ear-piercing BANG echoing in the alley.

Right after, without waiting to see if the bullet hit her, the boy turned his body, dashing away and running as fast as he could.

He didn't expect that to kill her, or even hit her, but he wasn't willing to put this theory to the test.

"Earth, heed my call." 

He heard her speak but didn't stop. He kept running but his footsteps slowly came to a stop.

'What is this?'

He asked, pressing his hand against an ethereal purple barrier.

Additionally, he could see the rain…it was still pouring outside the barrier, prompting the boy to look up but to no avail.

"There's no escape, boy." 

He heard the female speak from behind him but refused to give up or even look back, for that matter, as if he were refusing to face reality.

Bringing up his gun, he pointed it to the barrier.

"I, Monroe the Witch, shall slay the evil that curses Spawn. The evil, Illian Hale." 

The boy paused, his heartbeat skipping a beat as he froze.

Rather than questioning why she called herself a Witch, what Spawn was or this evil she spoke of, he had one question.

"How…do you know my name?" 

He looked back, seeing his bullet hovering before her, soon hitting the ground with a TING as she pointed her staff at him.

"Die."

[Name: Monroe]

[Inherited Legend: Baba Yaga]

[Pantheon: Slavic Folklore]