His Devilship CHHHAAANNN~

[C. W. Miraj]

32: Is this all you were ever meant to be?

1. No
2. Yes
3. —

Huh?

What a weird question. What in the fuck does 'what you were meant to be' even mean?

I was a person who wanted to break things from the very beginning. If I were capable of anything else then wouldn't I have chosen it already?

My entire existence has led up to this moment.

This is fate. My destiny.

I was conditioned for this from the way society turned me into something I despise.

I'm merely programmed to self-destruct.

I'm merely fulfilling that purpose.

I merely follow my code.

Besides if I were to say no then that'd mean I had to believe in something beyond.

But what? I see no future for myself.

I hate people and the world.

Every time I sought I reached dust.

What else could I possibly be?

But an inevitable consequence of everything that made me.

A byproduct.

I was shaped by factors outside my control from the very moment I was born.

Parents and the lack thereof—

Environment. Upbringing. Genetics.

The societal structures that dictated my beliefs—

My access to information and my emotions and whatnot.

I would have become someone entirely else were I born someone else in another time and in another place with a different set of inputs and yet I was not and so I became an outcome that has always been predetermined in a life where a choice is but an illusion.

I could have sought help but I never did.

I could have chosen to change but I never did.

I could have rejected destruction but I never did.

Transformation is a lie.

Personal growth is a lie.

Some people grow merely because they were given water while others rot left in the dirt.

There is no true self but only a role that was meant to be played.

I laugh at the idea of wanting to become whatever you want.

Did I choose to be born into a world that shaped my thoughts?

Did I choose to feel hatred or resentment or emptiness?

Did I choose to end up here and end myself?

No.

I did not.

I was always meant to be.

I was always meant to be here.

Yes.

This is all I was ever meant to be.

I was always meant to first live.

I was always meant to die then.

Living is an exercise in futility.

Nothing to change.

Nothing to reject.

Nothing.

Whether this world is a string of codes run by a programmer.

Whether this world is an artificial simulation run by noodle aliens.

Whether this world is a product of the imagination of some sociopathic sadist.

Nothing but The End.

I am not even killing myself as there was no self in me to begin with.

I am not negating myself but rather accepting the reality as it is.

I am accepting the lack of reality thereof and embrace null.

33: What faction do you believe most resembles you?

1. Righteous
2. Demonic
3. Neutral

There is the last question.

There is only cause and effect.

There is only systems of control.

There is no such thing as neutral.

There is no such thing as demonic.

There is no such thing as righteous.

People who justify their own actions.

At least it has a different set of answers.

Is this the last question? I feel as though.

I will go with neutral since I'm bisexual.

I glance at the sunset peering through the window.

Suddenly I'm not in the mood of killing myself anymore.

Tomorrow, or perhaps the day after? Should I perhaps apply to college?

I love drawing. Never had a talent for it. But why do I care what others think?

There is this childhood dream of mine to create the best comic book in existence.

Not any superman type shit. Not where the heroes win, or the villains do, really. No.

Instead…

A story where there's hope…

For both the depraved and the deprived…

A good story… with a fulfilling ending…

Perhaps that passion of mine is my fate… my destiny…

To erase myself into another world altogether and forevermore…

Congratulations! You have a 100% alignment with the Demonic Faction!

Hmm? What the fuck—

Blood. My nose bleeds.

I grab at it. What's happe—

"AARGHHHHHHHHHHH—"

My head! The head! Head hurts—

You've been chosen as a High Demon to rule over The Abyss!

Race |Human |F|| has been promoted to |High Demon |B||!

For the perfect results in the survey, you've been chosen as one of the Dungeon Masters to rule over the dungeons!

Race |High Demon |B|| has been promoted to |Dungeon Mas—

Error!!! Error!!! Error!!!

The words protrude my skull.

My brain lags as my veins burn.

 

[C. W. Miraj]

Something is tearing me as though through and through throughout.

In and out and up and down and down and up and out and in and out.

I grip my ears as my vision blurs red and burns me within and without.

My forehead collides with the dashboard as the impact rattles the minivan.

I bang and again and another slam and bang before the entire dashboard croaks.

A fracture forms both on the console and my head as my skull meets plastic and metal.

The seat belt chokes me as I wrench my upper body left and right thrashing and jerk sideways.

Then I slam my head against the driver-side window as the glass spiderwebs and unknown memories assault me.

"Boss!" A young man calls, his head tiny under the ginormous afro. He stands tight, and salutes, his hands pressing shakingly against his tuxedo suit.

His skin is as dark as a human can get, his eyes sharp yet lost.

"It's done!" he shouts confidently, yet his body betrays him.

Across the long table, a hand under his chin, a mysterious man with messy hair and unbalanced glasses, nods in acknowledgment.

He looks airheaded, almost out of this world, yet there is a glint of unreachable malice within there, his eyes.

"Leave," he commands with a glance. His face remains expressionless, blank, his eyes empty, unreadable.

"Boss… I wanted to talk one on one—"

"You should leave, Gin," the mysterious man says calmly yet threateningly. A last chance. As though otherwise, the long decorative sword behind him would spill blood. "There is nothing to discuss."

"Is it really fine? Everything we're doing? You weren't such a person, Boss. You weren't. You've changed," the underling says, his eyes narrow, smiling sadly. "You have an objective in mind, right? I know that… But still. Selling an innocent child to a politician just so that you can later threaten him—"

The mysterious man strikes the table, his eyes wide, very wide… wrathful. At what? At his underlining? To the humans? In the world?

At himself?

"You're excused."

The underling lowers his head, turning back and leaving the room.

Silence.

The room abrim with rich decoration and lavishes… and paintings and drinks… and vases and luster… velvet carpets and high ceilings and expensive cologne…

Yet silence.

The man turns on his chair, glancing at the panoramic window with lazy eyes.

His eyes are dead, empty, reflecting the full city brimming with life.

"If it's not me, someone else will take my place…" he whispers, his lips barely parted.

"If it's not me, the world will be ruled over by demons…" he whispers, his expression calm.

"If it's me… I can do it…" he whispers, spare tears falling, washing over regret.

"I can become a devil…"

He says, his mouth half agape.

"I can bear all the dark this world has to offer."

"I can overcome anything."

"My goals lie far beyond."

He smiles, his eyes hazy.

"I can become The Devil."

"This will prove that I've lived—

You've been chosen as a Familiar to serve The Lord of Devils!

Race |Dungeon Master |A|| has been changed to |Vampire Queen |S||!

The mechanical and monotone voices brush against my mind like an autumn breeze.

Sounds feminine and gentle yet lonely and disappointed all the same.

Chapter 0. Walpurgis Night — Phase 1

Best of luck, Player…

This pain! Just kill me already!

The rearview mirror gets the full brunt of my forehead as the plastic snaps off the base and flies into the backseat.

The head slams into everything within reach be that the steering wheel or the window or the glove compartment.

As my fingers shudder twitchingly I jerk back and slam the back of my head against the seat's headrest then back at the steering wheel as it honks.

To die.

…

…I open my eyes.

A cold fog. Two people.

The one with the amber hair looks at me with her curious sapphire eyes. Her face is round while them her eyes are downturned. A dark tunic covers her body whilst the leggings criss cross her legs. I'm reminded of that one kid everyone used to ask for homework and exam answers.

She's relatively short just like the girl standing beside her.

Yet the other girl despite clearly being her sister from almost the same color of eyes has an opposite vibe.

For starters—her chest is massive. Clearly the winner of the genetic lottery.

For seconds—she looks like a high-school bully that would skip the classes to fuck with the upperclassmen. Her smile looks mischievous as if screaming proudly 'I wear Gucci and Chanel. Bitch. What about you?'

For thirds—clearly fucking stupid.

Sometimes you can tell just by looking at the person's eyes.

Straight and even raven hair falls just below her chin.

She wears a magical girl robe and a pointy hat.

She points at me delicately.

"She's hot. Wow."

 

[C. W. Miraj]

"Hey, Princess," I call, nudging Mari's shoulder. "She's staring at me. You think she's into me or something?"

"Umm… no," Mari says annoyedly after mild deliberation. "I think she's admiring the treasures you have."

I look down at my balls. Not tennis balls, not footballs, "literal fucking cannonballs, I kid you not, kid."

How did these shits even grow back?

I should try burning them later…

"You are not envious, are you?" I ask Mari, elbowing her with a smile.

I can't be the only one suffering.

Passive aggression is the best way to fuck up someone's mood.

"Don't be. Although, I don't think they'll grow any more after your age," I muse.

I giggle lightly, bringing my hand up against my cheek like a bitch I am.

My eyes smile too, toyingly. "How unfortunate~"

Bullying children and behaving like a baby.

How low can a man fall? I wouldn't know.

I'm not a man, after all.

"I couldn't care less," Mari says tiltingly. "Didn't you say for yourself that those are but a curse, no? Still, if you like them, then I'm glad for you."

"I couldn't agree more," Vampire says noddingly. "Besides there is a balance to everything. At that size those look rather unpleasant to the eyes most certainly."

Murdering children and women doesn't suddenly seem as bad as it did.

"Plentiful men most evidently fuck anything as long as it has a hole in it," she follows, stepping forth and standing before the kid and me, glancing down at us with her deep crimson gaze one by one before her naturally narrowed eyes fall on Mari.

"So don't despair kiddo. Ha! You're too young to think about such matters anyway."

I cross my hands, nodding approvingly.

Perhaps we finally have somebody with a shred of common sense amongst us.

"Don't be mean like that," she then says, pointing at me lazily with her arm half-raised.

"You will come to realize that siblings most definitely are irreplaceable as you grow. So be a kind kid."

Did this bitch just call me a kid?

"In any case," she tsks, then lefts and lifts her head, her exposed neck thin yet tall, egregiously tall. "Where are we?"

"Are you guys responsible for my transmigration?" she asks with a huff. "Should I call it a reincarnation instead? I don't seem to be in my body completely."

"We partially are responsible," I tell her, admiring her willowy swanlike shoulders. "You don't seem to care."

"Hmh." She nods with a puff. "So what kind of world are we in? What's precisely required of me mostly? Were you two the ones conducting the survey? You don't expect me to just go along with this shit now do you? Shit was so painful I don't remember shit."

I can hear Mari exhaling, upping her hand to her arching brows. "Wonderful… how one wasn't enough… now I have to deal with the two of them… Fantastic."

What is she blabbering about?

The vampire girl is completely fine.

In every meaning of the word.

I'm glad I'm still into women.

"So?" she presses. "Do I have to kill a Demon King or something? Do I get to have a harem full of adventurers with tragic backstories? I won't settle for less needless to say. I will quit most definitely if it seems boring."

Very reasonable.

I concur with that.

But fate is a bitch.

"Basically, you become my bitch," I say, pointing at her with a blank expression. "I was an old dude that got summoned to this world and met the kid beside me. It's apparently a battle royale between me and the six other Archdemons. We each control dungeons, raise troops, and amass resources. The winner becomes The Demon King."

I point above and say, "Then we summoned you."

"I see I see… hmh," she whispers noddingly, brushing the dark chocolate strands of her messy hair that frame her face and flow down to her chest.

"Hmh. So you're also from Earth?" she asks, rapping her fingers against her giraffe neck. "You most probably don't possess many memories too now do you?"

I simply nod. "Any other questions?"

"Unneeded," she says, running a hand through her messy hair, her crimsony eyes cloudy yet clever, her ears long and triangular, yet not close as long and pointy as the corpse of an elf lying beside us. "I can for sure become your bitch. Though if you prove to be boring I may butcher you most reliably you see."

"Fine by me," I claim, extending my hand. "You call me…"

"Your Devilship Chan."

She claims my hand. "Your Devilship Chan? Though Chan is a lame name so if you pardon me I'd rather settle with merely Your Devilship. I'm Na… whatever—

"I dunno. I forgot you see. Just call me Nan."

"Sure thing, Nan," I say, shaking our hands.

"Sure thing Your Devilship," she says, watching me emptily.

My hand fucking hurts, but I refrain from twitching my eyes. I can't let anybody know what I got…

Codex of Truthfulness

You are forbidden from knowingly lying. Your lungs seize the very moment deception forms in your mind. Your throat constricts and you choke to your death the very moment a lie crosses your tongue. Nothing can bypass the curse. Whether clever wording or mental trickery. The Codex knows the intent before you speak.

You become more susceptible to lies while unable to distinguish falsehood from reality—your natural skepticism is stripped away. You will act on falsehoods as if they are absolute truths. Your mind struggles to reject the lie even when faced with proof of betrayal.

Your senses are sharpened to unnatural levels where every touch is three times as intense. Pain is amplified beyond limits. All hit threefold.

First my balls. Now my ass. This bitch better be worth it.

I smile at her. "I really hope you are useful."

She smiles back. "Your Devilship your eyes hide your pain most definitely."

I look down at her pale hand, pale as a porcelain doll.

Her skin shines, slender, yet her hands and arms are not. They are a bit fat and rather muscular, unlike her graceful body and elegant face.

Her red gown presses against her skin, delicate and thin, going up her chest.

I press her hand hard.

She hitches, shuddering, blinking with dark lashes.

Nan then looks at me with pain drawn on her oval and mildly angular face, her cheekbones high and her jawline sharp.

Her soft lips part and further down, alluringly.

"Nan, your eyes…"

"They hide suffering behind nonchalance."

"Hatred. Misery. Betrayal. Indignation."

My smile deepens unbeknownst to me.

I look up, savoring the fear and shock—dread—on her face.

I love it.

And I'm enamored by it.

Cursed, I am, and,

"Pain, you say? You would be right," I say, tilting my head sideways, glaring at her emptily, expressionless.

"But no amount of pain can overcome me," I state truthfully, letting go of her reddened hand and turning to Mari.

 

[C. W. Miraj]

Mari looks at me with a blank face. She then looks at Nan.

She then looks at me. Then, at Nan.

Looks between us again and again.

"What?" I ask.

"Did you two know each other, perchance…?" Mari asks in wonder.

"Did you lose your head from the punch sub chance?" I ask her.

What makes me and the vampire similar in any capacity?

"Hmh." Nan lefts and rights her head observantly. "You seem to have killed the two. Why then did you keep the girly alive? To interrogate? To toy with and fuck? But then the elf would have been a better choice most certainly."

Mari shudders in disgust while I turn my head and glimpse at Nan. "Not really. Your mind, on the other hand, seems to be cluttered with lewd."

"I can't help myself," she says, shrugging. "Sex is among a few things that brings me joy in life although momentarily. Be it drugs or even caffeine they are detrimental for the body. Sex though is not at all harmful most definitely."

I point at Mari with my chin, wiping my eye with my other hand. "I keep her because I like her. She's very interesting."

"I see I see… it's very rare to stumble upon interesting people indeed. They are at times flickers of light in an endlessly dark tunnel." Nan approaches Mari, circling her, scrutinizing the fretful expressions she makes.

She then stops before her, slumping, locking eyes with Mari. "Hmh. I enjoy that also. When you have no hope in life you cling onto others'."

"But these eyes…" Nan mutters, smiling animalistically. "Sly. Deadly. Venomous."

Huh? What is she on about?

"Never mind." Nan turns back to me, thinning her lips. "You were right most inarguably. She's very interesting indeed. I shall see…"

She presses her palm against my heart. "Hmh. You most certainly possess no chance of attaining victory. I shall follow you to your grave Your Devilship."

I grab her hand, sniffing, my eyes plastered on her fingers.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"I am addicted to shiny things. A curse of mine," I say, licking them, barely resisting to outright munch and devour.

"Is that so? You do you," she says.

I bite, sucking on the blood.

She pushes my head away.

"That is not very manly of you," she says.

"Because I'm a bitch," me says.

"That is misogynistic of you," she says.

"Because I'm a sexist," me says.

"I see… I'm a feminist," she says.

"Because fuck you," me says.

"Fuck you too," she says.

"Please do," me jokes.

"You too~" she jokes not.

Mari coughs, bringing her fist up her lips, succeeding in getting all the attention. "We need to go. The adventurers will soon come. You remember?"

Ah, right.

"Let's leave," I say, letting Nan's hand off and heading to the stairway in the corner of the room.

The two follow from behind.

"It's fucking cold," Nan says.

"It's fucking cold," I say.

"It indeed is," she says.

Then asks, "Wanna fuck?"
"I don't have a dick to fuck you with," I say.

"I see I see… But is that a problem?" she asks.
"It is, it is," I say. "No dick, no fucking."

"Please?" she insists. "Why not?"

"Fuck off," I shoo her off.

"Fuck," she curses. "Hey kid. How old are you?"

"Umm…" Mari whispers shakingly. "Sixteen…"
I listen to them as I go down the stony stairs, my hand brushing against the hard walls.

"I see… I knew it. That's a no-no most certainly," Nan says, disappointed. "I really want to discover my new body… What a pity…"

"I'm surprised you give a fuck," I tell her. "I'm surprised you have principles at all."

"It's most definitely not principles," she says, her steps slow yet deliberate. "I just don't like it. It's not my thing…"

"I really wonder just where that line of yours lies," I say, reaching the floor.

"Sometimes I wonder also," she says, her voice thoughtful. "But most times I end up being disappointed in myself. There was one time I sucked a homeless guy off. I couldn't feel my chin for a week. You know the funny part is?" she asks.

"No, I don't. I don't even want to know," I say, walking toward the grand double door.

She continues anyway, "I ended up housing that man so he could feed me with sperm for a while. The old guy knew his stuff. A pity yet that he was too much into cocaine…"

"How did you even live like that?" I ask her, curious.

"I'm a genius you see," she says without a shred of pride. "I did chemistry. I was good at it. Had many patents and sold them off when need be."

"No, what I'm wondering is how you haven't gotten fucked to death," I say askingly.

"I did some jiu-jitsu," she explains.

"That doesn't explain shit," I say, reaching to the door with my hand. "You're a weak woman. Any man can fuck you up easily. That's basic chemistry or biology or whatever it is."

"Your Devilship you are most certainly dumb," she says. "Physical strength proves useless if you don't know shit about fighting in most cases and in most cases most don't know how."

Just when I'm about to turn and prove her wrong, I halt.

First, I'm a weak fucking woman, so there's no point to prove.

Second, a screen pops up in my head, hieroglyphs drizzling in my mind.

Where would you like to head to?

The Surface
The Abyss
|X| The Seven Heavens |Lvl.7|

I turn to my living encyclopedia. "Mari, weird messages. What to do?"

I project them on my hand, a red hologram forming.

Mari doesn't respond, her face blank, her mouth agape. She looks petrified.

"Mari?" I call her. "Princess?! The world calls for Mari!"

"Huh?" she deadpans, then finally reacts, blinking. "Are you guys, at last, done talking? I thought I'd go mad…"

 

[C. W. Miraj]

"Mari, what the hell is this thing?"

Where would you like to head to?

The Surface
The Abyss
|X| The Seven Heavens |Lvl.7|

"Oh, there is really no point going to the outside world, The Surface. I think we should head to The Abyss," Mari says assuredly, stepping closer. "Time works differently in The Abyss. Thirty times slower. We can gain strength there, fighting monsters for a month before adventurers come. Only a day will pass here."

"What if someone intrudes in our dungeon and absorbs the dungeon core while we are out?" I ask.

"Core? That red orb I saw above?" Nan ponders aloud. "Hmh. What's that?"

"Shut the fuck up," I tell Nan with a glance.

Then I tilt my head toward Mari again. "So? What's The Abyss? How is our core safe while we're there?"

"Umm… I don't think it completely is…" she says, avoiding my eyes. "Yet I don't think anybody can spot this dungeon in a short duration either…"

"How so?" Nan asks in my stead, her naturally narrow eyes narrowing further. "You three did that just fine."

"...I detected the dungeon from oscillating mana in the air when it formed. After that, the only way to find the dungeon is by physically spotting it, which seems improbable since we're in the Vastforest." Mari lifts her feet, first left, up and down, then right, up and down, then repeatedly, slowly, turn by turn, to warm herself while she talks.

"If there were others nearby who detected it just like me when it formed, then they'd have already been here by now, no?" she asks, wet boogers flowing down her nose.

"Doesn't seem most convincing enough," Nan verdicts, scratching her smooth forehead concealed by loose strands of dark chocolate hair.

"Absolutely. What if some fucker randomly comes here?" I agree with Nan noddingly, leaning to the door as my cannonballs bounce, which angers me as much as it arouses me.

Fucking disgusting.

Disgustingly…

Fuckable…?

It's moments like this when you want to burn your eyes and bury yourself…

I thought I did not care, but I just can not not care.

I really need to find a way to get rid of these…

"It's late, so most are in their beds right now. That buys us at least ten hours. We don't have to worry about monsters either since they don't go to dungeons… usually…" Mari whispers in an explanatory manner.

"See? You are unsure yourself Mari," Nan tsks, shaking her head.

"Absolutely. With my luck, it's no surprise if some random monster randomly roams here while loitering around," I tsk, too, shaking my head too.

I scrutinize the room.

The air cloaks itself in rot and decay, suffocating.

The walls here are uneven, fleshy in some places, petrified in others.

As though living organisms were forced into stone.

From some cracks, red mists seep out and cling to the oppressive fog, heaving it.

Is this my home…?

Hong Kong apartments are better, even.

"Uncle, if you are unsure, you can summon some monsters to look after the dungeon while we're away, no?" Mari looks at me reassuringly.

"It's still a huge risk nonetheless to trust the unknown," Nan disagrees, lifting her head.

"I don't want to trust my life to some gremlins." I find some bullshit reason to disagree just for the sake of it.

Wait, why, though?

Is this because Nan said so?

Why am I so easily convinced…

Ah, it's the fucking codex at work, isn't it?

Did it dumb me down to such an extent? I really became a gullible idiot…

From now on, I have to heavily focus on each word I hear and consider carefully before deciding, to avoid the codex influencing my decisions—

"It's also hot in The Abyss," Mari announces.

"Let's go to The Abyss," Nan immediately insists.

"Let's go to The Abyss," I repeat like a parrot.

"Fuck cold. I hate the cold," I declare.

"Fuck the cold indeed. Also fuck this bullshit fog. It's crawling up my skin most annoyingly," Nan tsks.

Mari, with wide eyes, eyes us incredulously.

She brings her hand up her face, rapping her fingers against her broad forehead tiredly. "I should have known… I'm starting to learn how to talk to you two."

Without hesitation, I pick The Abyss option.

What was I thinking again?
Ah, codex. What codex?

The room begins to shake, the dust swaying across.

Mari coughs whilst Nan wipes her red gown clean.

I watch the metallic double door as it opens gratingly like a beast waking from a deep slumber, the hinges and the frame pitching, the edges grinding.

The grrrrzzssssssss bounce off, screeching in a vibrating rumble.

The doors then slowly reveal a tunnel that goes down.

Welcome, welcome to the first circle! Fools! I welcome you to Gehenna!

Deep and sinister gruffs, throaty and rough, resound in my head.

"Did you hear that?" Nan asks, switching her gaze between me and Mari.

"Yes… I never would have thought a day like this would have come so soon…" Mari mutters, her eyes hazy. Yet she smiles fearlessly, full of vigor.

Wait a minute.

Something isn't right.

Why did I decide to go to The Abyss?

I don't even have any idea what it—

"Ahhhhhhh. A hot breeze~" Nan moans. "I hate the cold utmostly."

"Yes, fuck the cold," I rehearse. "Let's go, girls."

"Fuck the cold indeed," Nan sings the mantra. "Fuck the col—"

"NOT!" I shout, barely regaining reason.

I turn to Nan. "Shut the fuck up for a minute, will you?"

Nan points to her mouth in a zipping gesture.

I then turn to Mari. "Explain. Explain where we are headed and what exactly we can obtain by doing so."

 

[C. W. Miraj]

It freezes. It's so, so cold.

The two may feel the chill lightly.

Yet I sense the freezing humidity thrice as sharply as they do due to the codex.

My teeth tatter while my body hair stands straight.

Despite everything, I remain detached.

It's only feelings, feelings, which proactively deceive me.

Mari clears her throat.

"In order to obtain the experience required for cultivation, you need cores. Monsters have cores, and The Abyss is abrim with them." Mari crosses her arms, watching the rough ceiling. "The outside is really risky. Again, if they detect you and your dungeon, they will send an army."

"As for the dungeon defense, while we're away, there's no point leaving monsters. They are of low rank, so they won't help stop most intruders. Rather than that, it's better to put them to use inside The Abyss," the grand strategist explains, circling her amber hair between her fingers.

"But you really don't have to worry," she assures, eyeing me. "As I've said, the chances that someone will appear in such a short duration is abysmally low."

I nod, raising a single finger to my lips in a gesture of silence.

Time to think.

It is pointless to remain inactive inside the dungeon, awaiting an onslaught from the outsiders. The best defense is attack.

As for going to the outside world, again, she seems to be right. If her narrative abides to the truth, then heading there equates to prescribing myself a death sentence.

I lean my head back, eyes closed, arms crossed, my straight hair brushing against my eyes.

They will attack…

Time… time is of the essence.

Speed is the crux of every enterprise.

Things need to be done quickly, fast.

No, I need to push myself beyond just the speed, beyond the limits.

I take a step inside the opened door, embracing the darkness fully.

"Follow me," I command. "We can discuss the rest there when the time is slowed."

I hear pairs of steps behind me.

Then I look back. We look back.

At the screeching door that closes.

Then darkness. Silence, complete and utter serenity.

The door vanishes.

Instead, a wall.

A wall made of flesh.

It throbs, it pulses, it wobbles.

It smells of rot and sulfur, of old blood and sour fluorine.

I can hear Mari churn and gag, about to spill over, acid creeping up her throat.

She clenches her jaw and sucks in desperate breaths, beating her fist against her ribs.

Clammy sweats form on my forehead and drip down my lips.

Then—

Light.

No, not just light.

Eyes, many.

They part open on the flesh walls, gushing blood, watching us intently.

Most are white, some are purple, and very few are blue in color.

They are the size of a bear's head, some even as big as a commute elevator.

Some the size of fists while others large enough to swallow a man whole in a single blink.

Suffice it to say, the space is large, enormous.

Shadows move when they shouldn't.

"Khehehehehe~" silent laughs enshroud the area. "Khehehehehe~"

The voices neither stop nor relent.

"Khehehehehehehehe~"

I turn my head around in an attempt to find the source.

They come from far away, down.

The only way.

"It most definitely was a terrible idea," Nan says nonchalantly. "At least it's hot."

It's hot. Too hot.

The soles of my feet wail in agony.

I look down at the ashen floor, embered veins writhing about.

"Princess, how do we determine time here?" I ask, turning and glancing at Mari.

She responds, her face covered in bluish white glints, "Your status. Try to think about it, and it should."

I do as she says.

Gehenna |Area #23301|

Time: 00:00:49

Area: ???

Fifty seconds, huh. Do I have to endure this for days to no end?

"It can't be…" Mari splatters to the floor, her knees hitting the ashes. "It can't…"

I begin to have a terrible premonition. If I am to trust my instincts, and I sure am—

We're fucked.

"Mari? Something wrong with you?" Nan asks, kneeling mildly and nudging her shoulder. "Hey? Are you okay?"

"We are in an undefined area…" she says after a long pause. "Which means… nobody has yet come out of it alive in history…"

That does sound terrible.

"Just what kind of luck…" she bickers, her eyes hazy, teary.

"Stand," I say, forcefully grabbing under her shoulder and pulling her up to her feet. "Don't fret. It won't help."

"But how could this… I thought all of Gehenna has been discovere—"

I slap her, the slap resounding.

Even the nearby eyes blink at that.

She tilts her head forward, staring at me emptily.

I slap her once more. Then again, repeatedly—

"Stop!" Nan shouts, grabbing my hand. "That's enough. You'll cause a concussion."

Oops. It seems I overdid it.

"I don't understand you, Princess. Why are you so afraid of such things after fighting me? This brings shame on my name," I tell her, clasping her face in my hands and pressing my forehead against hers. "So you better not chicken out now."

"But…" she whispers, tears falling. "But we have exactly zero chances of survival… This is the worst case scenario with close to zero probabili—"

I flick her head. "So? What's the point of lamenting? If we die, then that's that. That's as far as we got, simply that."

I turn and step forward, leaving the two behind.

"How disappointing," I say, lowering my eyes. "I had hope in you. I thought you amounted to something, yet nothing. All fuss and words, all bark, no bite."

"If you can't stand behind your words, your ideas and ideals, then they are but a speck of dust in the timeless history, forgotten and unbegotten." I walk while my feet shrill in anguish.

"Wait!" she shouts from behind.

I glimpse at her, turning my head, my body facing forward.

"We need to formulate a plan! We can't just barge in! After checking Nan's status and how your gifts work, we will know how to put up a fight!"

I smile, crying inside.

I don't have to walk all that back now, do I?

"Status? What's that?" Nan asks Mari from behind me.

I sigh, looking at the deepening tunnel, about to turn back.

Yet there is a flying, bloody eye glaring at me in close proximity.

It has no eyelashes but lips instead.

Instead of an iris, it has a mouth.

Its tongue sticks out, licking its lips and smiling maniacally with its whole body.

A fucking flying lip-eye?

 

[C. W. Miraj]

I smile back at the motherfucker as I step forth.

"You wanna have a piece of me?" I ask with eyes warm and welcoming.

Yet ice-cold and unforgiving all the same.

Glazer |F|

A wandering aberration of hunger, a nightmare given form. It does not blink, nor does it rest. It wanders afloat, always watching, grinning, always. The moment it acknowledges you is the moment you have become its prey.

A levitating eyeball coated in pulsar veins and raw tendons. Possesses a ring of unfirm flesh instead of eyelashes. The lips curl, smirk, part. The pupil is a mouth, wide, unhinged, packed with scraggly teeth.

The tongue slicingly lashes out and stabs through with a dart, retracting thereafter. Any injury it inflicts struggles to close while the sensation of being licked lingers long after the strike.

The glazer hovers toward me, circling me from above.

I remain steady, standing, motionless.

I watch it calmly, tilting my head when need be.

It watches back, though I don't know with what, drool sweeping and pooling at the corners—

Hungering.

Then—

The tongue whips forward.

Not at me.

The air beside me.

Then constricts.

Then tightens.

The tip whiplashes toward my shoulder at a staggering speed.

I sigh.

I lean back, dodging easily with minimal movement.

Yet I miscalculate as the tip scratches against my titty.

Useless sack of meat.

I immediately grab at the tongue before it can retract.

It tries to.

Yet I harden my grip.

"Had fun?" I muse, tilting my head left and staring at the glazer.

"My turn," I say—

The tongue coils around my wrist.

The mouthbreather flies toward me at a flashing speed, the maw widening.

"Didn't I say it's my turn?"

I mimic its grin.

The glazer's grin freezes in turn.

I first pull and twist, wrenching the tongue to the side.

The glazer lurches midair, off balance, jolting, a puppet with cut strings.

It screeches from deep inside its body.

I reel it in hard.

Then bring my knee up.

Cracking.

It rockets upward under the impact.

Yet I don't let go of its tongue.

I instead yank it downward.

Swinging.

The floor cracks.

Its flesh ruptures.

Veins pop.

Then again.

Up.

Down.

The wet crunch splats.

Blood bursts outward.

Repeatedly,

I wrench its disfigured body up—

Then down.

Then up—

Then slam it back down.

Tendons flap like butchered flesh while its lidless grin quivers.

The mutilated nerves snap like confetti,

Falling everywhere wherever—

Like a pinata—

I continue swinging.

Like a rabid dog shaking a chew toy—

Left and right.

Right and left.

Ripping it apart.

Before flesh sloughs off in long strips.

Before capillaries spill down its puslike remains.

Before it laughs pathetically.

Laughing for mercy.

Laughing for pause.

Laughing for death.

Before I slam it down hard enough to split it wide open as its pulp explodes with fluids gushing and the impact sending waves of shredded bloodbath rain around me.

I breathe in, looking back at the tunnel.

There, tendrils dangling beneath it, an eye floats, massive, disembodied, an oversized eyeball dominating its body, bloodied iris locking its gaze with mine.

And so it watches me, emptily.

Greenish, venomous flesh, irregular ridges and protrusions, twitch subtly, spongy.

The tendrils taper into thin points, swaying and writhing about.

And so, unblinkingly, it stares.

Gazer |F+|

A sentinel aberrant of mysteries, neither intelligent nor mindless. Erodes the mind with its gaze. The eye observes, then hunts cautiously, tracking each motion, tricking the observer.

Its bloodied iris pulses, the sclera riddled with raw veins, streaked with webbed scars that throb with inner light. The flesh surrounds the eye, armored, layered with plating, fused together, reinforced, calloused. Beneath, numerous tendrils whip, searching motions.

The instant it blinks, it secretes an acidic venom, compressed into a focused burst of light. The venom ignites on impact, boils, and dissolves in seconds.

"Sending this… for what? To give me a blowjob?" I point at the corpse of the glazer. "That boss of yours— Tell that pussy to bring their ass up here before I fuck up this cave inside out."

I launch the corpse at the gazer like a ballistic missile.

The gazer easily dodges at an incredible speed, flying back and upward, then retreating.

"Don't let it go!" Mari shouts from behind. "I'm sure it's a scout!"

I glimpse back at her, the scratch left by the glazer on my left breast burning like hell.

"How am I supposed to catch that? Do I look like I can fly?" I ask, turning back.

I stuff my hanging titty back inside my magical robe.

Wish I didn't pluck my heart that time…

That way, the robe wouldn't have a protrusion in the worst place possible.

Oh well, at least the heart grew back.

So all is well.

I hear Nan clap her hands.

"Your movements were most certainly flawless," she says, staring at me in awe with her deep crimson eyes. "Hmh. Were you a professional fighter in your past life maybe?"

What's gotten into her? I wasn't even trying.

Besides, I haven't gotten used to this body yet.

"You should go grab the corpse," Mari remarks, coughing. "Pluck its core and absorb it. We need to attain maximum strength before fighting the boss."

"Boss or whoever that is," Nan says, tilting her swanlike neck and rapping her fingers against it. "Is defeating them the only way to get back?"

I finally step before them, stopping.

"You right," Mari says noddingly. "But how did you know?"

"I've played enough video games to know," Nan responds, rolling her eyes. "What was that thing anyway? That flying thingy?"

"I have no idea," Mari says.

Huh?

"Did you guys not read their descriptions?" I ask, frowning before upping my hand to my chin and brushing. "Glazer and Gazer, it said."

"You can, we can't," Mari says, stroking the ashes off her knees. "You have a guess, no?"

Then she tries to stand, flailing, frail. "That's a trait, a privilege only the Great Demons have."

"Me and Nan don't," she restates, sniffling, snorting back mucus. "You do."

 

[C. W. Miraj]

Mari snuffles, dragging in a clogged breath.

I press the back of my hand hard on her forehead.

"Huh?" Mari steps back, her expression shaken. "What are you doing?"

How hot. Too warm, in fact.

However, I have bad senses due to the codex, so I can't tell for sure.

"Nan," I call, turning my head to her. "Can you check for sure?"

Nan nods, tapping the kid's neck with two fingers.

She then rests her palm against Mari's cheek.

"She most definitely has a high body temperature," Nan confirms my suspicions with a huff, resting her other palm on her own forehead for comparison. "Hmh. Most probably caught a cold."

Mari stammers. "What? But I'm feeling alri—"

She sneezes.

"Kid," Nan tsks, pinching her cheek. "I know he's dumb. But he's not that stupid."

The fuck was that?

"You should rest," Nan reprimands, narrowing her eyes.

She then glances at me. "What do we do? I really doubt there are antibiotics in this world."

"Princess, you've dragged us into this pit of hell, the cesspool of death, and yet you haven't even explained how we get food and water here," I say tiredly, grabbing her wrist and checking her pulse.

"Umm… I can generate water; I'm a wizard, after all, specializing in aqua," she says, sniffling. "As for you two—"

Mari points at Nan. "Vampires drink blood. Technically, they can also feed on excrements… but most abstain."

Nan nods thinkingly.

I don't even want to imagine what's going through her head.

"You too," she then points at me, her grimoire clasped against her chest. "You can even eat more things, almost anything. You remember you ate your own heart, yes?"

That's good to know.

I wonder if feeding on myself counts as cannibalism.

Oh well. Who cares?

I yawn, tears welling.

"But…" Mari lowers her eyes, staring at my heart. "You feel tired, yes? That means you don't have much mana left. It'll take a while for it to fill up, and it doesn't help that the core is outside where the time moves differently."

So I shouldn't rely on my regeneration at all, is what she's saying.

I scratch my head. "I and Nan will do just fine. What I'm concerned about is you."

Nan nods, putting her hand on Mari's shoulder. "You most certainly as a human can't feed on blood or piss or the flesh that the walls consist of."

"What will you do?" I follow askingly.

Mari slumps, clasping both hands over the tip of her book with a morbid expression. "I can feed on my mana. Though even without it, humans can survive for weeks without food…"

With my grand strategist being like this, death is not as far as it seems, it seems to me.

I pull out the strand of her hair.

"Ouch!" Mari holds onto her head. "Just why?!"

"Because I had an urge to pull your eyes instead," I explain truthfully as per codex. "You should be grateful."

"I see… how surprising…" Nan mutters to herself from the side. "Hair fetish… first time I've seen that most certainly."

I kick at her knee.

Nan falls face-first to the ashen floor.

Good. Now I feel better.

Though I can bet my balls that the vampire bitch enjoys the pain.

But isn't that… great?

I can make her my punching bag…

Mari coughs, interrupting my stream of thought. "As I've said, we should first formulate a plan before delving deepe—"

I put a finger on her lip.

"Stop talking," I say, tapping her lips. "I've already made up my mind."

I then look at the garbage lying on the floor. "Hey, Nan. Did you die?"

"I wish," she says, pushing herself up with the help of her hands, then curving her knees and pressing her large feet against the floor, standing.

"A pity," I joke

"A pity," she jokes not.

She wipes the dust off her gown, her nose bleeding.

"Hey, try thinking of a window like this," I instruct, showing her my status.

A blue hologram forms.

Chandra |Archdemon |SS||

Murk |E|
Aura |E|
Wise |E|
Luck |F|*

Gifts:
—Ravenous Sea Webster |E|
—The Devil's Wrath |E|*
—The Hero's Curse |A|
—Reverse Plot Armor |S|
—...
—...
—...
—...

Title:
—Villain |F|
—...
—...
—...

"Hmh. Like this?" she asks, extending her palm.

A crimson hologram materializes.

Nanette |Vampire Queen |S||

Murk |F|
Aura |F|
Wise |F|
Wrath |F|

Gifts:
—Sanguine Golemancy |F|
—Sin of Wrath |F|
—Hemomancy |F|
—...
—...
—...
—...

Title:
—Familiar of Wrath |F|
—Queen of Blood |F|*
—...
—...

"So that's my name! Nanette!" she shouts in joy.

"So you're fucking useless, Nanette," I whisper in regret.

This worthless bitch is what I wasted my ass on?

I now have to live with the codex, and for what?

This is the worst financial decision in my life—

My ass. I wish it were financial.

No, instead, I'm now crippled in every conceivable way.

I'm never using that Pandora's box ever again! What next?

A pact of blindness? A pact of dick up my ass?

A pact of you get fucked every time you sleep?

Ah, of course not.

Because I already have that shit!

The parasite licks the blood off her nose, then freezes, her lips quivering.

"This…" Tears flow down her eyes. "This is the most delicious stuff I've tasted so far in the twenty years of my life!"

"Twenty?!" I ask, shocked, raising a brow. "You're just twenty?"

"Mhm," she blabbers nonsense.

"Is that supposed to mean yes or no?!"

"It's supposed to mean I'm not sure," she says, lifting her head and staring at the eyes across the walls and the ceilings gazing at us, her oval and mildly angular face lit in whites and purples predominantly, also blues.

Patience… patience…

"I did the survey most definitely the day before my birthday. So who knows. Maybe I'm already twenty-one?"

BREATHE in… breathe out…

"Why? How old did you think I was?" Nan asks, blinking.

Come to think of it, she did act like a brat.

I turn and leave, walking on the scorching floor, my feet crying in despair.

"Where are you going?" Mari asks with a high pitch.

"I go murder their leader," I say, raising and waving my hand. "You two stay here."

"You can't just barge alone!" Mari shouts from behind, coughing. "Most go in groups of tens of people! How can you alone just—"

"SHUT UP"

Silence.

I turn, grinning like a lunatic.

"Useless fucks."

"What are you two but dead weight?!"

I point at Mari.

"It's already hot here. I'm sure the lower we go, the hotter it'll get. Your ill body won't endure."

"Take your time. Sleep properly. Use your healing magic," I instruct with manic eyes. Threateningly and menacingly.

I then point at Nan.

"You! Take care of Ma—"

No, never mind.

I point at Mari once again.

"You! Look after the perverted whore! Make sure she doesn't suck herself dry!"

The two look at me with wide eyes, speechless.

I back, clenching my fists.

"Moronic kids... A fucking kindergarten…" I mutter to myself as I march away.

An S-rank Vampire Queen—my ass. What does S even stand for? A S-hithead-rank?

What about the SS-rank Archdemon? Does SS stand for the breasts? SS-rank titties?

 

[C. W. Miraj]

Picking the small pebble of crimson lying amidst the mutilated remnants of a once prominent corpse, I scrutinize it.

Rune of Hunger |F|

A rune? Wasn't this supposed to be a core? Are they the same?

Clasping it in my palm, I course my will through it, the same way I did with the dungeon core.

Infinite possibilities form before me. There are particles of eleven basic colors, yet even the ones of the same color vary in their tints.

To the best of my knowledge, an eye, well, at least a human eye, can only register about a hundred variations of colors.

Yet, in reality? There are millions, if not billions, of them.

And I only need a specific color.

Just as Mari said, the particles that I require, the luck particles, don't flow toward me.

To put it simply, my will is completely ignored.

Do I then have to look for them, then, instead?

No, impossible. There are just too many.

I frown, guiding my will through the endless swarm of particles, breaking them apart, most of which are red. And so I grind them.

First, all colors except blue and orange and pink and brown vanish.

Out of the remaining four colors, each one of them except blue breaks into smaller, bluer particles.

Finally, only blue prevails. Fracturing those blue particles into smaller fragments of luck, I then realize—

Out of innumerable spheres of light, both enormous and gigantic, only a few hundred tinier ones are left.

Such a waste. But what can be done, really?

So, what do I do now? How do I absorb these particles?

I sit on the ashen floor, the ground grilling my ass.

Biting my lip, I force the hem of the robe down below my burning butt.

In my anger, I almost lost control over the particles I so earnestly gathered.

Breathe in… Breathe out—

Why is the air so fucking hot—

Concentrate!
First, I empty my thoughts.

Detach from the agony, detach from the anguish.

My breaths are steady.

Slowly, I channel the luck fragments inside the rune through my clasped hands on my waist and course them through my body to my heart.

Throughout the process, I lose half of them.

As they gather in my heart, I sense the connection between me and the faraway dungeon core.

Slowly yet steadily and surely, the fragments leave my body through the connection—

Reverse Plot Armor |S|

My heart tightens in pain as the connection falters.

Only a tenth of the fragments pass through.

The ninety percent experience loss, huh.

My eyes fall on the crumbling pebble that now lies on my lamp.

It almost ceases to exist, the dust scattering across.

So this is cultivation?

What can I say?

To summarize the whole experience—

A waste of fucking time as I gained close to no experience.

I writhe in pain as I stand, lifting my purple robe before turning to check on my asscheeks to make sure they're not cooked to perfection.

To summarize the whole experience—

I got my ass burnt, is all.

Wasting time on F-rank cores is useless unless they're perhaps of blue color, and even then, it's still not of much benefit.
What I need is fat prey, of E-rank, or perhaps even D-rank, to make the whole experience worthwhile.

Otherwise, I fear I'd have to cultivate for days to gain a single experience point.

And I need a hundred of them to level up my dungeon.

Thinking of it, I can open the dungeon's status window here since the connection is already established, right?

Dungeon of Wrath
Lvl. 1 |0/100|

Create |E| |CP: 30|
Domain |E| |DP: 30|
Summon |E| |SP: 30|
Alchemy |F| |AP: 30|

Troops:
Vassals: 0/3
Familiars: 1/3
Subordinates: 0/20

Medallions:
Wrath x1
Luck x1
Life x1

Before summoning that cursed bitch, I designated her as my familiar.

Mari said that all Archdemons can only have three familiars throughout their lifetimes. The difference between normal subordinates and familiars being that, I get stronger as they do, and they get stronger as I do.

They also attain substantial powers just by becoming a familiar.

A pity that I wasted one of the three spots for a mindless moron.

Oh well, such is luck. What can be done, really?

It's not that she's useless, no. I don't even know what abilities she has.

It's just that F-rank abilities are not worth any consideration to begin with.

For now.

In the future, as she improves upon them, maybe then, she'll possess some worth.

Though I doubt that. Just by considering what kind of person she is.

That's the problem, in essence.

Mari is a crazy kid. Unfortunately, I'm no better in my current mental state. We needed someone with reason, yet what we got instead was a lunatic.

So, I'm the most reasonable one in the group, which, in my life, has never happened before, which—is terrible, very troublesome.

I really miss Gin at times like this…

Gin? Wait, who's Gin again?

Never mind.

I stretch my hands, heaving a tired sigh as I further down the fleshed tunnel.

The eyes glare at me creepily.

I flip a middle finger, slender and delicate. My hand shakes as I barely refrain from spontaneously breaking it.

Remember, no more regeneration. I can't just sever my limbs expecting they'll grow back just as fine this time around.

I yawn, the air scorching and dry, blitzing through my throat and firing up my lungs.

Is this the punishment for my sins? This life?

I wonder, I wonder how long I can wander.

Is this my last journey?

The tunnel narrows, and the heat intensifies.

I meet a few more glazers along the path, slaughtering them effortlessly and ignoring their remnants.

I only regret that I didn't take Gunter's sword with me, or at least the elf's hand knife.

Could have dealt with things at a much faster rate.

In all honesty, I would have run and just ignored glazers, but instead I eliminate every one of them. After all, if I let them be, they will pose a danger to the kids.

Finally, after marching for a long time, I glimpse at the clearance below.

 

[C. W. Miraj]

As I leave the cavern, a fresh, somewhat cold breeze assaults me, and with it comes a red mist.

The mist is just that—a mist. Not the humid fog inside my dungeon that clings to the skin, but a red nothingness, barely felt on me.

It's quite easy to glimpse through it to the valley too.

There are spare trees, sparse in numbers, yet titanic, their trunks like forts, their roots like snakes from the dinosaur era, fungi sprouting from their everywhere and an underbrush covering their everything.

The barks illuminate purple while the veins shine greenish. The leaves sway, redder than the mists, vibrant and lively, and the round fruits hang, comely, more purple than the barks, vivid, violet.

Above the branches into a dense canopy and above their vastness, sky peeks through. No, not sky, but rather, the stones, and crystals.

Instead of a blue sun or an orb, what radiates the abyss with shine are ginormous crystals sprouting from the ceiling. They are purple, bright purple.

Yet, due to the mist, my vision is clouded in reds mostly, with a purplish undertone.

I step on the grassy mud, the softness chilling my feet, swallowing my steps.

Feels like heaven.

I breathe, closing my eyes.

Peace, peace at last.

I sit on the ground, and relax.

Then I just lay there, sideways, a hand under my chin, lazily observing the scenery.

I scratch my burning ass from under the robe with my other hand, then bring it to my mouth, yawning.

The grass grows straight, of deep blue, swaying with the breeze, the strands shifting in waves.

There are some rocks here and there, pinkish. Some glow, others lay in slumber, dormant. They rise like fangs from the soil.

Also, streams. The waters flow through the valley, still, still, save for the occasional blip-blips, bubbles that fish would typically produce while close to the surface.

The streams themselves raise calming and relaxing burbles as they flow over the rocks.

The trees are titanic, yet sparse.

The roots are serpents, yet unmoving.

The lights are splendid, yet without a sky.

The barks glow colorfully, the world feels muted.

Feels like a dream.

Everything is alive, yet lifeless.

Slipping through my fingers—

Like a distant, faraway dream.

Without a purpose, without a meaning.

A tear streams down my cheeks as my mouth parts.

Then another, another, another,

I feel nothing, as though I was nothing, and all I ever will be is nothing.

The mud swallows me, and I, float in it.

There's only… pain. Constant, sharp.

I don't want this pain.

There is no grand purpose, no nothing, just pain.

I feel… tired, lonely, abandoned, betrayed.

I have to move forward… but why?

Revenge is just an excuse.

Curiosity is just an excuse.

Power is just an excuse.

But to obtain purpose, I need to be powerful, I need to be vengeful, I need to be curious.

I need to continue deceiving myself.

Only by moving forward can I find the answers for the world.

No.

The answers to myself, for myself.

They can deprive me of my body and mind.

Yet they can never, never ever temper my soul.

My will.

The blue grass sways, hypnotic, endless.

I brush the tears, not mine, of course.

But the tears left from the rain falling from above.

Who could have thought that it would rain underground?

The rain continues to pierce me. I feel every drop, every drizzle.

Then I lean to the left, dodging the acidic bullet raining down on me.

"You thought I'd forget about you?" I ask, lazily glancing above at the floating creature. "I thought I told you to bring your boss. Instead, you ruin my rest. Can you not appreciate the beauty of nature? How can you be fucking blind for a being that is a literal eye."

"I'm in the midst of an existential crisis, alright?" I wave my hand soothingly. "Why not just relax for a moment—"

It blinks, sending another missile.

I sigh, leaning forward into a sitting posture, predicting the course of the laser before it even comes into existence.

Even as a human, I could dodge bullets. This, in comparison, is like a baby swinging a toy at me.

But the attack succeeded.

It didn't fuck up my body, but it sure fucked up my mind.

Veins form on my neck as my eyes twitch.

"You really wanna die, don't you?"

Except…

How am I supposed to kill the fucker when it's flying at an apartment height above me?

I slowly stand, brushing the mud off my robe as I dodge another laser by slightly retracting my shoulder.

It scratches my left breast.

The acid burns through me, the pain being the same as though having a dentist drill through my glands without anesthesia.

"Okay, now I'm totally fucking mad—"

More gazers gather in the air.

Two, three, four…

Five, six…

Seven…?

So he did call for a backup.

What a cavalry.

Hahaha.

Ha…

"Okay, now I'm totally fucked—"

I say before the army of gazers gaze upon me.

I run like a bitch I am.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK—"

The barrage of lasers comes at me like at a lost lone soldier in a losing war.

The ground explodes before and behind me, like in some blockbuster movie.

I keep swinging and spinning left and right and jumping and bending up and down as I move without heeding a single glance backward.

I function purely on my instincts and intuition. The advantages of being a luck path cultivator.

Ironically, the codex that fucks me up sharpens my senses also. Not threefold like it does with pain, but still, better than nothing.

Also, the woman's body, despite being weaker, is more acrobatic, which helps immensely as I maneuver.

And so I keep running aimlessly, my mind rushing, the robe fluttering behind me, shredded by misses.

Shredded?

My robe?
My super-duper sexy, super-puper magical, super-super dopey sexy magical girl robe…?

I smile emptily, parting my lips, my eyes darkened.

"Hahaha…"

What the hell?

"HAHAHAHAHAHA"

I will show them what the hell truly looks like.

I, a personification of benevolence, or well, demonification, will impart the blind fuckers with sight.