"Viscount Veruletos' heart...!!!??"
After the initial shock, the bishop smiled softly and said,
"You have worked hard again, Sorrowful One. May the Father be with you."
"It's not hard at all. It's my duty to remove ungodly things and beings from the reach of God's people," the stranger replied.
He bowed, turned, and began walking toward the confession room — then stopped suddenly. His tone was flat as ever when he asked,
"How is Victor Baptizen?"
"It's going well," the bishop said with a warm smile. "Considering he's only fifteen and this is his first baptism, it's going surprisingly well. You've found someone truly talented for your first."
The stranger resumed walking, but before he reached the door, the bishop's voice followed him again.
"El Grimga was asking about you. I think he's worried — says you've been on a blood spree again."
"Tell him I'm fine. Tell him I'll see him around."
He shut the door behind him. Inside the dim confession room, he sighed and whispered,
"Life... without sacrifice? Life... with sacrifice? At the end of the day, we're all cursed with insanity."
His murmur carried deep bitterness and sorrow.
Then, a cold, emotionless voice spoke from the darkness of the small room:
"— Number F348X44: location for transport?"
"District 44. Stop 99 — Central Slums, General Call Station," he said reflexively, his voice devoid of emotion.
"— Affirmative."
A strange liquid poured over him, covering him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet — armor and all. The confession room was instantly plunged into total darkness for a heartbeat. When the light returned, the stranger was gone.
---
At another location...
On a desolate island of towering trees, mountains, and hills, silence reigned as an aloof and ancient overlord. The peace had lasted for an immeasurable time — until today.
Vu! Vu! Vu! Vu! Vu! Vu!...
A strange sound approached the island at high speed — like the wind itself being slashed apart.
An enormous jet-black shuttle skimmed across the ocean surface, slicing through the air toward the island.
Inside the shuttle were eight individuals — six passengers and two pilots. Three women and five men. The fifth male was at the controls.
The cabin was eerily silent, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Finally, as they neared the island, one of the men broke the silence with a teasing grin.
"So, how about Rolduf and Meldrex tell us how they know each other — and why you two are so close?" His tone carried playful mischief.
The man was about 5'11", mid-built, with naturally silver-grey hair — likely the result of a genetic mutation in his lineage — and a small goatee. He wore a leather jacket, rugged jeans, and fingerless gloves. A revolver, pistol, and short black dagger hung from his hips.
At his words, the quiet atmosphere shattered.
Everyone started laughing and teasing.
"Yeah, tell us already!"
"You two are way too secretive!"
Or, from the back — "Or maybe they bend another way, huh?"
The two men under fire exchanged exasperated looks. It wasn't the first time this question had come up.
"You're the one who bends that way, Verdren! Your whole family bends that way!" Meldrex snapped.
Meldrex was a tall, muscular man nearing thirty, with dark ginger hair, brown eyes, and thick blond eyebrows. His rugged face carried a natural heroism. He wore a hunter's outfit, a short dagger similar to Verdren's, and a double-barreled smoothbore firearm strapped to his back.
"Why do you always pick me out, Meldrex? Everyone else says worse things and you still single me out!" Verdren complained.
"Hahaha!" The others burst into laughter, taking delight in Verdren's misfortune.
"I guess it's about time we told you guys," Rolduf said calmly. "Since some — if not all — of us might not make it back from this mission."
His words instantly silenced the cabin. The laughter died. The reality of their mission returned like a cold wave — a reminder that only one, two, maybe three of them might survive.
"Like pouring cold water on a fire about to rage," one of them thought.
The woman in the orange-and-red monkey mask — outgoing and sharp-tongued — pouted.
"You're such a joy killer, as always. Ah! What else should we expect from Rolduf the Joy Killer?" she said in her peculiar Russian-English accent.
She had a faint scar just above her lip, visible through the small opening in her mask where her mouth was exposed.
"Alright, alright, sorry for the mood. Let me start like this: my wife is a cheater," Rolduf said casually, popping open a can of beer from one of the bags.
The cabin erupted in laughter again.
"Hey, that's mine!" the owner tried to protest, but his voice was muffled by a large, muscular woman with glowing blonde hair who covered his mouth with one hand — while munching snacks with the other.
"And so was mine," Meldrex added with the same calm expression as Rolduf.
"Ha! Look at this duck trying to act like a swan!" Verdren shot back.
"You—!" Meldrex glared at him, but held himself back.
"Both of you, stop acting like kids!" several voices shouted at once.
"Jinx!" the monkey-masked woman and one of the others said in unison, laughing. The bald man beside them frowned.
"You Sin City people are so weird," he muttered, rubbing his shiny head.
"So, back to your story, Brother Rolduf," said the muscular woman, her tone respectful even when teasing.
"Thank you, Edela... where was I again?"
"You were at the part where your wife was a cheater," said the bald man, Bhisma, rubbing his scalp.
"Ah, yes. Thanks a lot, Bhisma."
"No problem, my brother. Though you do thank me a lot for one thing. You Sin City folks are... very weird," he added, frowning in confusion.
Most of the others rolled their eyes.
"We'll arrive in five minutes, guys," the pilot, Feasta, called back before turning up his music.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Feasta. Anyway — my wife was a cheater. I didn't know at first; I thought I was the only cheater in our marriage. But she proved me wrong — big time," Rolduf said, taking a long sip of beer.
"Haaa... this beer's strong," he sighed contentedly.
"Of course it is! It's a local delicacy from my hometown, Blackapple Town," said the beer's rightful owner, now free from Edela's grip.
"Is it that good?" someone asked, saliva almost dripping from their mouth.
"We're getting off track again," the monkey-masked woman said eagerly. "So how did you find out she was cheating? And did she ever catch you?"
"Catch me? No. But the day I found out she was cheating... that was a simple day. We were on vacation. She went sightseeing while I went to the resort bar."
"I met Meldrex there. We hit it off, shared a few shots, gambled a bit. Then Meldrex suggested we visit the east side of the resort — said there was a master cocktail artist who'd make you a custom drink if you impressed him."
He chuckled softly. "But when we got there, the guy wasn't interested in us at all. We left disappointed. On our way back, I saw my wife playing golf with another woman. The other lady was turned away, so I said to Meldrex, 'Bro, lemme talk to my wife real quick.' Being an understanding guy, he waited while I went ahead... then I stopped, turned around, and walked back to him instead."
"Meldrex looked confused and asked, 'Bro, what's wrong?' and I said, 'You see those two ladies?' He nodded, and I told him, 'One of them is my wife... and the other is my girlfriend.'"
The entire cabin went silent. Breath caught in throats. Every pair of eyes was glued to Rolduf.
He sighed heavily. "We were both a little drunk. The golf course was close to the main road. Meldrex tried to calm me down, said, 'Chill, bro — it's just women.' Then he started walking toward them... and before I knew it, he came running back twice as fast."
I asked, 'What happened?' And he just said, 'Same damn thing.'"
The cabin burst into shocked laughter — but before it could fully rise, the entire shuttle jolted violently.
Something massive had struck the hull, sending it swaying.
Through the windows, they saw a black whip-like appendage vanish into the dense forest below.
The pilot cursed under his breath. "A greeting like that right after we arrive? This island truly lives up to its name..."
"The Final Playground of Death — Sleepers Island."