"Hey, Ben. Are you actually leaving? The next round won't be announced in a few days."
I tried to keep up with Benedict's fast pace. Having long legs made you walk faster, it seemed so. Or maybe he's just attempting to avoid me. I won't have that, though.
"Get lost, rascal."
He responded, cursing me. I'm basically his father so I knew he didn't mean that.
After traveling towards Frankurt for three whole hours yesterday, I ended up in Eisenblad again. I was feeling a bit depressed, seeing the great city of Eisenblad in ruins. I was not born here. I was born in a small town in the region of Dover. My mother died when I was nearing my senior graduation. My father, however… how should I say this… I wished he was dead.
"Ah—!"
I tripped on a boulder. My nose hit the pavement. Benedict halted and for a moment, I saw the kindness that I had written in him. But he simply stared then continued walking.
An abrupt screen resurfaced—
[You have alerted a lesser round!]
[Round 1.5 | Lesser]
[Defeat the devilmen in ten minutes]
[Compensation: 200 points| Failure: Subtraction of points by 30%]
"...shit."
My nose was bleeding. I pinched my nose bridge and blew air mixed with blood through my nostrils, red landing on the rocks.
I don't remember Ben being this unkind. I laughed self-deprecatingly.
I shouldn't have expected anything.
Perhaps he doesn't find me deserving of his kindness.
I'm the author of his life god fucking damn it.
My head fell on a slab of stone with a thud. I covered my eyes with my arm, tearing up jokingly but at the same time, seriously.
[The devilmen are approaching!]
I was too arrogant. The moment I stepped out of that theater and remembered what I had done, that I had written whatever this world had become, I became egoistical. I'm not anybody. I'm no god. I'm just a minimum wage earner from a state hospital. But before that, I was a college student, a delinquent; then I was a high school loner; then a child with troubled parents.
I really am a nobody.
Well, I guess I have to thank Ben for lowering my ego.
The corpses surrounding me began to stand, skin translucent. I could see their organs sloshing as they groaned.
I should find a computer in the afterlife and write again. This time, I won't write about someone like Ben Leyendecker. Bastard Leyendecker, I spat. Bastard, bastard, bastard.
I shut my eyes forcefully. I couldn't bear to see…
…
A shriek of a male awoke me from my self-deprecating slumber.
I arose from the dirt to see Benedict, a syringe gun in hand. There was something purple inside the syringe, and its needle was stuck where his jaw met his ramus. Half of the needle had been inserted. Hell, it stuck into his bone. His face grew veiny and turned into a purplish red.
He screamed in pain, his canines exposed. The whites of his eyes had replaced his pupils, gradually turning red from the veins.
"Rah—!"
I looked at him, both in awe and fear. I scrawled backwards. He kept moving his mouth as if wanting to say something. He repeated "Rah! Rah! Rah—!" as he punched the devilmen with his bare hands until he finally said what he wanted:
"Rascal, run!"
My legs moved on their own.
[Benedict will remember that]
[You have exited the round's grounds]
[You have forfeited the round]
-
I wasn't sure how long I ran. I wasn't sure if I was still in Eisenblad at all.
My legs slowly grew heavy. I collapsed near a train station. My lungs begged for more and more air. But I needed to find shelter before I rested. I entered through the stairs of the station, hoping to not be greeted by behemoths or devilmen.
Thankfully, there were neither.
The bulbs were still working decently so I managed to find my way inside. The station seemed to have been flooded but dissipated as there were still remaining puddles of water. There were also muddy footprints. There were people here.
I checked my stats.
This skill... «An eye for an eye, a leg for a leg» It was a skill that even the protagonist didn't have. Mostly because Ben is an idiot who believes that using sayings is sinful. He is a firm believer of armed weapons. Moreover, he is a weaponsmith back in The Federation. Yet he still wears that robe to hide his mouth when casting sayings. He is quite the hypocrite.
That's why I'm not sure how this saying worked. The description is a bit cryptic.
But it's strange... something has changed. Because Ben was supposed to be on the moon as Junhan had said. I know what's on the moon and such but there's something strange. But from what I've heard the atmosphere was frozen solid. Then could he...? There's no way, right? He must be insane if he had actually broken the atmosphere with his injector gun. But from what I've written, his injector gun contained nephilim blood and that gives him strength
But, in any case—
It was insane. The fact I saw with my own eyes— Benedict using his own invention in front of me. It made me realize that reality isn't really what I knew. He was alive.
His invention was a syringe gun filled with something called nephilim blood.
Damn.
If this world is really what I had written then nephilim surely existed.
Nephilim are creatures that watch over us. They can also be called angels. Nephilim were creatures of heaven. In a world where the gods' gaze don't fall, there are nephilim who watch and bet on humans. They use a currency called ambrosia. Nephilim are angels who have fallen. Some live among us humans and forcefully breed with them, creating nephlings.
Devilmen are the byproducts of consumption of nephilim blood. Most of the time, at least. By that, I mean, besides Benedict.
I'm not exactly confident in my memory. But if I recall, Ben is rather "thick-skinned." He isn't affected by nephilim blood.
Nephilim blood isn't as scary as it sounds. It only dissolves human skin but people of The Federation have a good amount of stock of it. They use it for erasing ink or any permanent substance since it gets rid of pigment as well.
Benedict also perishes from it, by the way. That's one scary thing, I suppose.
I rested my back on a busted train, massaging my temples.
My head was feeling airy and stressed because of one thing.
I…
I don't remember most of what happened in the story.